Princess in Love (28 page)

Words spilled out of her mouth in a sudden rush of gratitude and relief. “Thank you
for sending the message. I will be forever in your debt. How is he?”

Leopold thanked the innkeeper’s wife, then invited Rose inside and closed the door
behind them. “See for yourself.”

She entered the room where a hot fire blazed in the hearth, but stopped dead at the
sight of her husband lying unconscious on the bed. She was instantly whisked back
to the moment she returned from England to find her father on his deathbed. Her stomach
lurched suddenly and threatened to bring up her lunch.

“My God.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Leopold explained as she moved closer to the bed and beheld
Joseph’s pale countenance. “But we were able to retrieve the bullet. Now it’s just
a matter of time while we wait and pray that there will be no infection.”

She sat down in the chair beside the bed and laid her hand on top of Joseph’s. “Has
he been awake at all?”

Leopold spoke plainly. “He was briefly conscious on the battlefield after he was shot.”

Rose was intensely aware of Leopold moving slowly around the foot of the bed and taking
a seat on the opposite side.

“He had a rough time of it, Rose. Do you wish to know all the details? It won’t be
easy to hear.”

She met his gaze directly. “Of course I wish to know them. Surely you know me better
than that.”

“Forgive me,” he replied. “I had to ask.”

She fought to bring her breathing under control. “No, Leopold, you are the one who
must forgive me. I apologize. It has been a stressful day, but worse for you, no doubt.”

The sound of a man downstairs screaming in pain reached them through the floorboards.
They both fell silent until the torture came to an end and it was quiet again.

“Tell me everything,” she said to him in the warm, flickering firelight. “I must know
exactly what happened. Were you there?”

*   *   *

Leopold hated the fact that he had to describe all the horrific details to Rose, but
knew that he must. She deserved no less than the truth, and God knows he owed her
that. He drew in a breath.

“I saw him from a distance. It was at the end of the day, and we had finally gained
the upper hand. The full force of the allied army charged forward to crush the last
French advance, and your husband was as brave as any man I ever saw. He galloped into
a mob of French troops and saved the lives of more than a few British infantrymen.
Then a bullet struck him and he fell from his horse, but his foot was caught in the
stirrup and he was dragged.”

“Good heavens.”

Leopold paused to give her a moment to digest the information. “I saw it happen, so
I pursued him and brought his horse under control. I dismounted and freed his foot
from the stirrup, but I could see that his leg was badly broken.”

She glanced down at Joseph’s leg, but could make out very little of its condition
beneath the cover of the sheet. “Then what happened?”

Leopold kept his eyes fixed upon hers. “I opened his coat to inspect the bullet wound.
There was a lot of blood so I removed his cravat and used it to apply pressure while
I shouted for help.”

Her gaze fell upon her husband’s ghostly face. She was fighting tears. Leo knew it
because he recognized and understood everything about her. He knew that her heart
was gentle, vulnerable, and compassionate, but she was also strong. She could—and
would—weather any storm.

Her troubled eyes lifted to meet his, and he nearly tumbled headfirst into the extraordinary
beauty of those deep blue irises. An ocean of memories came flooding into his head
suddenly. His heart broke at the thought of what they had been to each other not so
long ago, before all of this madness.

“You told me he was conscious,” she said. “Did he speak to you? Was he in pain?”

Leopold cleared his throat. “He was in a lot of pain, yes, but he withstood it and
asked me to deliver a message to you. He made me promise.”

She lifted her chin as if to prepare herself for something that would no doubt break
her heart. “Tell me.”

Leopold slowly repeated Joseph’s message, word for word, while Rose watched him with
frowning, stricken eyes. When he finished, she gave no reply. All she could do was
stare at him in silence while he nearly broke down, for they were words he wished
were his own.

Tell her I love her … that she made my life complete
 …

He could not speak of such things, however. Not now, not ever again. He had to accept
it, no matter how difficult it was. She was another man’s wife, and he would no longer
insult her honor by imagining there was hope.

Rose leaned forward and kissed her husband’s hand. She took a moment to gather her
composure. “What about his leg? You said it was broken.”

“Yes, the doctor found three breaks, but he was able to set the bones back into place.
By God’s grace, your husband was not conscious for that.”

She wet her lips. “It will heal?”

Leopold swallowed uneasily. “We cannot yet be sure. At the very best, he will require
months of convalescence and will likely use a cane.”

“And the worst?”

He hesitated. “It was a bad break, Rose, and the shinbone penetrated the skin. It
is wrapped as well as it can be, but again, we must pray that there will be no infection.”

“If there is, could he lose his leg?”

Leopold nodded somberly.

For a long time they sat without speaking in the dimly lit chamber while the fire
blazed and crackled in the hearth, and Joseph lay as white and still as death.

“Perhaps I should leave you now,” Leopold said, knowing his duty was done. He had
ensured Joseph received the very best medical care and had arranged the reunion of
husband and wife. Rose was here with him now, and it felt wrong for Leo to remain
at the bedside when he knew damn well it was a selfish act, for how many times had
he dreamed of seeing Rose again, one last time? Imagined hearing the sound of her
voice and breathing in the intoxicating fragrance of her perfume?

Her eyes held his.

He could barely move.

“Please do not go,” she softly said. “I am sure you are needed elsewhere and you’ve
already done so much for us, but I want very much for you to stay.”

She said it as if it were a burden she was placing upon his shoulders, which was ridiculous,
for he cared for no duties outside of this room.

The truth was … he would do anything—he would sacrifice every moment of his entire
future—for one more hour in her presence. Even if they did not speak a single word
to each other, he would be content.

“I would be happy to stay,” he replied. “I just wasn’t sure…”

He wasn’t sure if she wanted him here. He feared she was still angry with him. That
she hated him.

Rose shook her head, as if he were a complete and utter fool for doubting his welcome.

“If you think I bear any ill will toward you, Leopold, then you are wrong, for you
were my guardian angel today. What would have happened to Joseph if you had not been
there? I cannot bear to think of it, and I am so grateful for what you did.”

His aching heart rejoiced at the sound of those words upon her lips. Perhaps he had
redeemed himself just a little in her eyes, which was a task he had considered impossible
a few short days ago.

Though it was not why he had done it. When he galloped after Joseph’s runaway horse,
he had already considered his reputation a lost cause—in her eyes and everyone else’s.
What he’d done today was a matter of honor, and above all, an act of love.

Rose cared for her husband. Leopold was therefore compelled to save his life and bring
him home to her.

He could not say any of that, however. “It’s what any dutiful soldier would have done,”
he replied.

“No,” she argued. “You are too modest. I believe your actions went beyond duty. I
also believe…” She paused. “I beg your pardon, Leopold, but I must speak from my heart.
I believe you might have been thinking of
me,
for you left your regiment and abandoned the fight to save him, did you not?”

Leopold cleared his throat. “I did abandon it, yes, because I am always thinking of
you, Rose. You are in my heart at all times. You were in it when I was riding after
your husband.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and color rushed to her cheeks as she fought against the
emotion she was trying so hard to conceal.

God, how he loved her. Too much to do this to her.

“But I really had no choice,” he continued. “Your husband is the future emperor of
Austria. Let us leave it at that.”

Being the noble princess that she was, she respected his wishes and did not argue
the point or press him to admit more of his feelings. For that he was grateful.

“Well,” she said, quickly wiping at a tear that spilled from her eye. “You were a
hero today from any and all perspectives. I suspect you will be awarded more medals
of honor from Petersbourg, as well as Austria. My new home country thanks you.”

He didn’t want medals. He had enough of those. All he wanted was Rose, but it was
long past time for him to accept that it was not to be.

“No thanks are necessary,” he replied. “As I said before, it is what any soldier would
have done.”

She accepted his words without argument this time and regarded him with a weary sorrow
that made him wish he could stand up, circle around this bed, and take her into his
arms.

If he could have done just that, he would have never asked for anything else as long
as he lived. But he resisted the urge and remained in his seat.

*   *   *

The night was not an easy one. Rose sat devotedly at her husband’s side, and for many
hours he did not move. As a result, she grew increasingly fretful, for it seemed a
very deep sleep, a state too close to death. Often she touched his cheek to ensure
he was still warm, or she placed her fingers under his nose to feel the soft beat
of his breath.

Joseph fought his own private battle through the night, and she assisted the only
way she could—by kneeling on the floor beside the bed and praying for his life to
be spared.

And Leopold. Dear, wonderful Leopold. He, too, remained at Joseph’s side and watched
over him whenever Rose needed to rest her eyes. When she grew frantic, fearing that
a fever had set in, Leopold was there, laying the back of his hand on Joseph’s forehead
and ensuring her that all was well.

When at last the morning light found its way into the room, and the fire was nothing
but a dry pile of ash and embers, Joseph stirred.

“Rose?” he whispered.

She woke from an uncomfortable slumber in the chair, sat forward and clasped his hand.
“I am here, darling. I’ve been here all night.”

He turned his head on the pillow to look at her. His eyes were bloodshot and filled
with pain and confusion. “My leg hurts,” he said. “I cannot move it.”

Rose glanced across at Leopold, who quickly stood. “I will fetch the doctor.”

He left them alone. Rose had maintained her composure all night long, but she could
no longer suppress her feelings. She broke down and wept over Joseph’s arm. “Thank
God you have come back to us. I was so worried.”

“My love,” he whispered as he cupped her cheek in a hand and waited for her to collect
herself. “Nothing could keep me from you, not even a bullet from Boney’s infamous
Imperial Guard. It was pure dumb luck they hit me, you know. They were probably aiming
at the Prussians but found themselves shooting in the wrong direction.”

Suddenly Rose was laughing, then weeping the most wonderful tears of joy. Joseph was
alive. All her prayers had been answered.

Well, perhaps not all of them, for she had been forced to sacrifice something else.
Sometimes she wished she could live two parallel lives. But this would be enough.

It would have to be.

*   *   *

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. “Come in!”

Rose was relieved to see Leopold, but her belly turned over at the sight of the doctor
who entered behind him, for he wore a blood-soaked apron and carried a leather case
that clanked with steel instruments inside when he set it down on the table.

“This is Dr. Harris,” Leopold said.

“I am told the patient has regained consciousness. That is wonderful news.” The doctor
bowed. “Your Royal Highness, I am honored to serve you. Now let us have a look, shall
we?”

Rose backed away to give the doctor room to examine Joseph. He began by listening
to his heart and consulting his pocket watch to time the pulse beats.

He lifted Joseph’s eyelids to examine his pupils and asked a number of questions about
how he was feeling, then removed the bandage at his shoulder to assess the bullet
wound.

“Everything looks fine here,” he said. “You were very lucky, sir. Inches to the left
and … Well, let us simply say that your star was shining yesterday.”

He replaced the bandage with a fresh one.

“Now let us have a look at that break.” He tossed the covers aside.

Rose looked warily upon her husband’s broken leg, which was wrapped in a bloodied
bandage and held in place by a splint.

Carefully, the doctor removed the bandage to examine the area where the bone had cut
through the skin. Upon looking at it, he promised Joseph laudanum to numb the pain
for as long as he needed it.

Joseph tried to sit up, but he couldn’t rise on his injured shoulder. Rose quickly
moved around the bed to fetch an extra pillow, which she placed under his head.

All the while, Leopold remained a silent observer. He had sat down in a chair by the
window on the opposite side of the room and was watching vigilantly.

Rose knew him too well. There was a hint of displeasure in his expression. Something
was wrong. She could sense it.

He met her gaze just then, and she felt her eyebrows pull together as she frowned.
What is it?
she wanted to ask, but the doctor interrupted her thoughts by saying, “Tsk-tsk-tsk.
That leg should have come off.”