Bonham and the smaller man took off up the stairs, clearly trying to flee. But Phillip wasn’t concerned with either of them at the moment. He shoved Hillsdale at Bell to guard before dropping to his knees at Sophie’s side.
He’d cradled her head in his lap. She was unconscious, blood oozing from a hole in the upper right-side of her chest. “No, Sophie. No. Don’t go. Stay with me. Stay with me,” he pleaded in a ragged voice.
Mrs. Jarvis was suddenly at his side, her hand on his shoulder. “I’ve sent for the doctor, Yer Grace.”
“I had no idea she was here,” Valentina said incredulously from the spot on the floor near the staircase where she’d remained cowering since Phillip tackled her. She was staring at Sophie. “What is she doing here?” Valentina yelled at Hillsdale.
Hillsdale winced and gulped.
Thunderous sets of footsteps sounded on the stairs as General Grimaldi came rushing down with a half a dozen men behind him.
Bell nodded toward Valentina. “There’s the first piece of rubbish to take out.”
Grimaldi himself pulled Valentina from the floor and shackled her. “I’ll use real shackles this time,” he said, winking at Bell.
“Your shackles were fake!” Valentina said accusingly to Bell.
“Of course they were,” Bell said, bowing to the woman. “No self-respecting spy allows his accoutrements to be taken away without a purpose. By the by, why do they call you the Jackal?”
A vein throbbed in Valentina’s neck and her face turned a mottled purple color. “What? The Jackal? Who called me a jackal?”
Hillsdale turned even paler while Valentina’s eyes spit fire.
She continued to glare at them all as she was led upstairs by one of Grimaldi’s men while Bell shrugged and said, “Well, that was awkward.”
Phillip was vaguely aware of Grimaldi telling Bell, “We’ve already got the two men who tried to run away…and Hugh Grayson. That fool trotted out several minutes ago and sat inside a carriage, apparently waiting for someone to drive him back to London.”
The rest was all a haze to Phillip, who just kept repeating over and over. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me,” as he cradled Sophie in his arms. He paused long enough to issue orders to Mrs. Jarvis. “Bring blankets. Get the maids to make up the bedchamber at the top of the stairs. The nicest one. We’ll need sheets and hot water and bandages,” he said, trying to recall all the things they’d used on him when he’d finally been dragged into the surgeon’s tent off the battlefield.
“I’m carrying her upstairs myself!” Phillip insisted when Bell attempted to ask Mrs. Jarvis to call for footmen to move Sophie from the cellar floor. Phillip gathered Sophie in his arms and lifted her as gently as possible. She had been unconscious since she’d fallen, but he’d kept his fingers on the pulse in her neck and knew she was still alive. His jaw tight, his head filled with one prayer, he carried Sophie’s limp body up the cellar stairs, through the kitchens, through the corridors, across the foyer and up the wide, winding marble staircase to the guest chamber that had already been prepared for her.
Phillip gently laid her on the bed and fell to his knees. It felt as if an eternity had passed before the doctor from the nearby village arrived.
“Do you have laudanum?” Phillip asked, jumping to his feet as the doctor hurried into the bedchamber.
“Yes,” the doctor replied.
“Lots of it?” Phillip prodded. He recalled only too well the ungodly pain he’d experienced when they’d taken the ball from his shoulder. The doctor would probably have to do the same with Sophie.
“Indeed, Your Grace,” the doctor replied. He wasted no time opening the bag he’d brought with him and setting it on the bed next to Sophie. “Rip open her gown. I must see the wound,” he ordered the two housemaids who stood at the ready to help him.
Bell and Grimaldi chose that moment to step forward and place a hand on Phillip’s shoulders. The two men stood on either side of him.
“Come away,” Bell said quietly but firmly. “You can do no more for her here.”
“Absolutely not,” Phillip replied. He made to push off their hands, but the two men exchanged a look and a nod before grabbing Phillip securely by the arms.
Phillip fought Bell and Grimaldi like a wild dog, making them struggle to drag him from the room.
“You must allow the doctor and the maids to care for her in private,” Bell said, cursing under his breath as he tried to reason with Phillip.
In the end, they had to enlist two of Grimaldi’s men to help pull Phillip away, down to the study, where Grimaldi poured him a towering glass of brandy. “Drink this, Harlowe. And don’t say another bloody word until that glass is empty.”
Phillip begrudgingly complied.
Chapter Thirty
Phillip couldn’t pace any longer. He’d spent the last six days walking back and forth outside the door to Sophie’s sick room while the doctors came in and out at all hours examining her. When he wasn’t pacing, he was at her side, easing her fever with a cold rag on her forehead, dripping bits of ice into her slack mouth, or holding her hand and praying to whatever God would listen to make her well again.
