“We’ll get it done right away,” one of the constables said as Blayne handed the man over to their care.
“And see to it that the man behind this attack gets what he deserves.”
The constables nodded and marched the gunman away.
Blayne took a deep breath. His hands were shaking, not so much on account of the danger he himself had faced, but rather because he’d feared for Charlotte’s life in a way that had nearly crippled him. Lord have mercy, it was hard to love someone so fiercely.
Forcing himself to be calm for her sake, he followed the constables back inside the building only to learn that the fear he’d experienced seconds earlier was nothing compared with the gut-wrenching panic that ripped through his body when he saw blood pooling at the front of Charlotte’s spencer.
“I believe I was shot,” she said, her voice weak as he hurried toward the bench where she sat. Marcus held her in a propped position while a constable kneeled on the floor nearby with medical supplies he apparently had no clue what to do with.
“Jesus.”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as it seems,” Charlotte said while Blayne did his best not to fall apart. He had to remain cool-headed. He could not allow himself to panic.
“Where’s the nearest hospital?” he asked.
“A mile or so away,” the constable said.
“Well then, let’s go.”
“I really don’t think there’s a need for that,” Charlotte countered. “I’m sure it’s just a scratch. In fact, I barely feel it at all.”
She would once the surgeon began extracting the lead ball. “Hand me the compress ye’ve got there.”
The constable placed a thick cotton wad in Blayne’s hand. Blayne placed it firmly over the spot on Charlotte’s shoulder and pressed down hard.
“Ow!”
Ignoring her discomfort, Blayne swept her up in his arms. “Would someone please get a carriage ready.”
“I’m on it,” Marcus assured him.
“And make sure that damn gunman tells ye who was behind this,” Blayne yelled. “I want his head on a bloody pike!”
Chest tight and very aware that all he cared for in this world could be lost if they didn’t make haste, Blayne held Charlotte in his lap while the police carriage they rode in charged through the streets with reassuring speed.
What had begun as a dull ache in her shoulder had since transformed into burning pain. Charlotte did her best to hide it so as not to worry Blayne, but it was difficult not to wince when he shifted her in his arms.
“We’ll be there soon, lass.” His voice swept the top of her head, the low tones of his brogue a soothing comfort that put her at ease. “Ye’ll be right as rain before ye ken it.”
She nodded against the solid wall of his chest while breathing him in. Her hand clutched the front of his jacket, but it was becoming harder and harder for her to hold on. Lightheadedness overwhelmed her. She became aware of Marcus saying something but couldn’t quite make out the words. Other sounds followed, all of them unfamiliar, and she felt herself getting jostled about. She heard herself groan. A spicy liquid with a hint of bitterness slid down her throat.
“That’s it,” Blayne said from somewhere far away. “Drink as much as ye can.”
Charlotte did her best to swallow the strange concoction. She felt an odd pull and tug sensation accompanied by a wonderful weightlessness as every sound faded into the background. And then, there was nothing but glorious silence.
“She was incredibly lucky.”
The unfamiliar voice pulled her out of the deep water she’d been swimming in. It was a sunny day, so she and Blayne had found a lovely lake to bathe in.
“The lead ball missed all major veins and muscle.”
Who was this man and what on earth was he talking about?
“So she’ll be fine?”
Ah. Blayne. Oh, how she loved him. They’d have a picnic when they were done swimming. Only, she wasn’t in the water anymore and…she felt like she was lying down. How strange.
