Page 69 of Courting the Country Miss

Leticia looked to Elizabeth who had already strode to the door. She summoned a servant and barked out orders. “Have a bath brought up and filled with tepid water. Then send in Tristan’s valet and Cooper. You return, too. You’re going to bathe an unconscious man.” She eyed the large, capable-looking footman.

The footman paused, nodded, and ran to obey. Within minutes and after a flurry of movement and explained instructions, Elizabeth, Leticia, and Mrs. Harper stepped out of the room to allow the men to work. Mrs. Harper slipped away but Leticia sat with her hands clenched in the same chair she’d used the night she had waited for the other doctor to examine Tristan as he lay unconscious. Elizabeth paced. The minutes dragged on, and each tick of the clock in the corridor seemed to echo in her head. Elizabeth sank into a chair, folded her hands, and closed her eyes as if praying.

The head housekeeper approached carrying a tray. “I brought you some tea and bread, my lady, Miss Wentworth.” She placed the tray on a table nearby and dragged a few chairs lining the walls to the table.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth murmured.

They sat but Leticia had no appetite.

“I wish the doctor would hurry,” Elizabeth said.

“I hope the cool bath helps.”

Cooper came out then. “’e’s cooler now. I don’t know ‘ow long it’ll last, though. We took off th’ bandages afore we put ’im in th’ water.” He paused, then added. “Th’ wounds are sickenin’.”

Icy pinpricks stabbed Leticia’s skin.

Elizabeth stood. “They’re septic?”

“Don’t look good, milady.”

Elizabeth paled. In a faint voice, she said, “Thank you for your assistance.”

Leticia went cold all over. One by one, the men left the room. Leticia ran to Tristan and touched his face. Though cooler and no longer ranting, he lay so still and pale that she had to touch his chest to reassure herself that he still breathed. With the bandages off, the exposed gash on his forehead turned her stomach. With black stitches holding the open skin together and thick green liquid oozing from between the black threads, it looked ghastly. Leticia wanted to tear open the stitches and clean out the green sickness. But that might make him worse. They kept their vigil, bathing his face, praying for his recovery. What delayed the doctor?

Richard arrived and Elizabeth filled him in. He nodded. “I’ve heard of Dr. St. Ives. By all means, let him try.” White-lipped with concern, Richard lay on the bed next to his brother and watched him as if willing him to get well.

A young man strode in, all confidence. “I’m Dr. St. Ives. Lord Bradbury sent for me.”

Richard sat up. “Come in.”

The doctor went straight to Tristan. With long, slender fingers that reminded Leticia of a pianist, he gently probed the wound in his head, then began a thorough examination.

“Carriage accident, I understand?” The doctor ran his hands over every inch of Tristan’s head, then turned Tristan so he could see the wound in back.

Richard watched everything the doctor did. “He was thrown clear.”

Leticia stood, expecting to be ordered from the room but the doctor didn’t acknowledge her or Elizabeth’s presence. She pressed her hands together against her lips and held her breath.

“Any other major wounds?” Dr. St. Ives pushed back Tristan’s eyelids and looked at his eyes.

Richard said in a low voice, “The head wounds are the worst.”

The doctor continued his examination, then slid Tristan’s shirt up to feel along his abdomen.

Leticia averted her gaze.

Dr. St. Ives looked up as if realizing others were in the room. “Ladies, perhaps you ought to step out, unless one of you is his wife?”

“Er, no.” Leticia, with Elizabeth at her heels, left and closed the door behind them. “We seem to be doing an awful lot of waiting while others tend to Tristan.”

“I know.” With a heavy sigh, Elizabeth sat next to her. “They virtually imprisoned me here in this house while Tristan, Captain Kensington, and Cooper rescued Richard last year. I waited in pure torture.”

“I cannot imagine.” She took Elizabeth’s hands and they sat in shared worry.

Tristan let out an agonized cry that brought them both to their feet, and sent Leticia’s heart galloping.

From the other side of the door came voices. “Hold him.”