“They need you upstairs, Olivia.”
“Why? What has happened?”
“Someone shot his lordship.”
Her heart leaped, and icy fear rushed along her veins. “Shot? Will he be all right?”
“They’ve called the doctor. He’s in his bedchamber.”
She tore off her bonnet and threw it down on a chair, then snatched up an apron hanging on a hook. Racing up the servants’ stairs, she tied the apron around her waist.
When she entered the earl’s bedchamber, Doctor Manners was tending to Redcliffe. “Ah, Miss Jenner, just the woman I wished to see.” He eyed her apron. “And you’ve come prepared.”
“Anything I can do, Doctor.” Olivia approached the bedside. How still Redcliffe was, when he always seemed so vitally alive; his face, usually a light tan, so pale, it scared her. But his bare chest rose and fell with each deep breath, his shoulder and arm covered in blood. She almost gasped aloud.He must live!
“Will he…” she swallowed, not wishing him to tell her if it was bad news. “Will he be all right?”
“I believe so. He’s a vigorous man. But he’s lost a lot of blood. The ball needs to come out. You can help me. You’re not squeamish at the sight of blood, are you?”
She shook her head. “I’ll have whiskey, hot water, and towels brought.”
“No need. Jack has gone to fetch them.”
A moment later, Jack, his arms full, hurried in.
Doctor Manners opened his bag and withdrew a long pair of tweezers. Holding them over a basin, he doused them with whiskey. He did the same with a small knife before arranging them on a rolled-out cloth.
Redcliffe stirred and opened his eyes. “I need to remove the shot, my lord,” Manners said.
“Go ahead.”
“I trust you know how it’s done?”
“Had one dug out of my arm during the war.”
“A little whiskey first.”
Redcliffe took the bottle from Jack and drank. He sank back on the pillows. When liquid sloshed down his chin, Olivia dabbed it with the towel.
“Miss Jenner,” he murmured. “You make a splendid nurse.”
“More,” Manners commanded.
While Jack held the bottle, Redcliffe swallowed an alarming amount.
His eyes unfocused, he peered up at her. “You still here, Miss Jenner?”
“Yes, my lord.” She was relieved he didn’t call her Olivia.
“I’m glad.” He closed his eyes.
“We shall begin,” Manners said, knife poised. “Hold the patient still, both of you.”
With Jack on one side and she on the other, she held Redcliffe’s arm as the doctor first enlarged the wound with the knife, then pushed the tweezers into the cut. It must have been dreadfully painful. Redcliffe jerked and groaned.
A few minutes later, the shot pinged into the bowl.
“Good.” Satisfied, Manners washed and dried his hands at the washbasin. “I’ll clean the wound. Then can I leave you to bandage the area, Miss Jenner?”
