Silence.
“This isn’t the moment to worry about modesty!”
Thomas heard the swish of skirts and felt increased pressure on his chest. Again, he heard the clicking sound of footsteps.
“Don’t you dare die,” Cordelia yelled at him. She slapped his face with a wet hand. “Stay with me, Thomas. You are my partner! Do you hear me? Don’t you dare die until we’ve discussed it thoroughly and come to a joint decision.”
He felt like he was falling into a dark world. Everything felt topsy-turvy. He didn’t know which way was up or down until she pressed her cheek against his face and the world righted again. He knew who he was and where he was. He had to fight the darkness. He wasn’t ready to die. It took all of his strength to open his eyes. Her face was above him, bathed in moonlight, and unspeakably beautiful.
“I-I-I love you,” she whispered, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
If this was death, he’d gladly welcome it.
41
“Thayne, come quickly to me,” Cordelia called, fighting to keep her voice steady. Her stomach roiled and she felt sick. “He’s lost consciousness and a great deal of blood.”
The new butler ran to her side without any pretense to dignity and knelt down beside her.
“Press down with both of your hands,” Stuyvesant said, joining them with his own large hands. “Once we staunch the bleeding, we can move him to a more comfortable place.”
Oliver stood watching over them in shock.
“Don’t stand about. Go and fetch the doctor, Oliver!” Cordelia yelled, her voice strained from all the yelling she’d already done.
He didn’t move but continued to stare at them in wide-eyed horror.
“Cordelia, you go. He’s in shock,” Stuyvesant said. “Thayne and I will stop the bleeding.”
She hesitated for only a second before standing up and wiping her bloody hands on her fancy dress. She rushed past Oliver and nearly ran into a pair of footmen on the stairs. Both were strong, tall young men, over six feet.
“Gerald and Tim, please make a stretcher to carry Lord Farnham down from the roof.”
They turned around and went back downstairs. They stopped at the servants’ landing, where Lois was comforting a sobbing Penelope. Cordelia continued down the last two flights of stairs to the ballroom, where the rest of the servants and the guests waited. They watched her entrance in astonishment. She looked down at her bloodied hands and her wild hair. Her appearance did not matter. She did not care what these people thought. Catching her breath for a second, she ran through the room until she reached the kitchen. It was just as full and busy as the ballroom. She spotted the head groom.
“Mr. Rowell, you need to go and tell the doctor that he needs to come immediately. Then visit Constable Hawes and ask him to come at once. There’s a body on the east side of the house.”
“Yes, Lady Farnham.” He bowed and took long strides out of the room.
Cordelia turned to Hattie. “Lord Farnham has been shot. We need his room prepared immediately and fresh bandages.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She next turned to Cook. “Please prepare hot water for the doctor and perhaps a broth or tea for Lord Farnham.”
Cordelia’s stomach turned and she nearly lost all of its contents. With a great struggle, she managed to return to the ballroom. Her guests crowded around her, all talking at the same time.
She held up her bloody hands for silence. “There has been an accident. If everyone would please return to their rooms, I will give a full explanation in the morning.”
“I demand to know what is going on,” Lady Grimsby said.
“You heard what Lady Farnham said, Augusta,” Lady Oxenbury snapped. “We are to go to our rooms.”
Lady Oxenbury walked out of the ballroom, and slowly the rest of the guests, with their servants, followed. Lady Grimsby was the last person to leave the ballroom.
Miss Vaughn rushed into the room and put an arm around Cordelia. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Lord Farnham needs you.”
Numbly, Cordelia allowed herself to be led to her bedchamber. Miss Vaughn helped her wash off the blood and change into a simple dress. She walked through the dressing room to Thomas’s room. The footmen were carrying in Thomas’s body. He was no longer wearing the red jacket or his sword. His face was devoid of color, but his bandaged chest moved up and down ever so slightly. Stuyvesant, Oliver, and Thayne followed them into his chamber. Thayne threw back the coverlet and told the footmen to place the stretcher on the side of the bed. They carefully lifted Thomas off it and into his bed.
