Rebecca (19 page)

Collette calmed as she learned that Lady Foxbridge had been found. She set to work immediately to have everything ready when she was returned to her room. Soon the room would be swarming with staff and family, so she tried to anticipate every need before chaos hit.

In the copse, Nicholas went unerringly to where Rebecca had not moved. It took three men to open the trap enough to remove her snared leg. The jaws moved very sluggishly, but that was what had saved Rebecca's life. If it had worked as it had been designed, she would have bled to death. As carefully as they could, they lifted her onto a blanket and carried her to the wagon.

Nicholas left Donar and the greyhound in the hands of one of the undergrooms as he climbed into the back of the wagon to ride with the still-silent woman. During the slow, bumpy ride, he gazed at her face which was lifeless in the glare of the moon. He had checked her pulse at her throat more than once. Although it was faint, it was steady. She seemed to be only sleeping, but he hoped that in the light they would find the reason for this senseless state.

Brody ordered everyone away as the men carried the woman upstairs. Eliza ran forward to follow her brother up the stairs, but he motioned her back. “Not yet, Eliza. Wait here with Curtis for the doctor. There's nothing you can do. Where's Mother?”

“In her rooms.”

Nicholas's jaw tightened in rage. “Would you tell her that Rebecca has been found, but is unconscious?” He did not trust himself to speak to his mother. She had made it clear that she did not care what happened to her daughter-in-law. Once Rebecca was well, he intended to rectify this ridiculous situation.

When he went into the room where the men had placed her on the clean, white sheets of her bed, he paid no attention to Collette and Gilmore, his valet, who hovered to one side. Nicholas bent and untied the ribbons of her ruined bonnet. Her hair cascaded to the pillow. For a second, he smiled. He knew what Rebecca had been doing. She had been seeking the freedom she could not have as Lady Foxbridge. When he tenderly removed her shoes and stockings, he saw dirt on the bottom of her feet. She had reached for the life she had known across the ocean and had nearly lost the one she had with him.

The bunched-up skirt came apart reluctantly. On her right leg, he could see the rips where the teeth of the trap had torn into the material. It was then that he saw blood and knew Rebecca had not escaped unscathed from the instrument of torture. He did not dare to probe any farther because he feared he would injure her worse.

His eyes rose from the bright red on the pink dress to meet the frightened eyes of the two who served them most intimately. Only these two knew that Rebecca did not share his bed each night. They had kept that secret well, mainly because they cared so much for the woman lying so still on the bed.

Gilmore dampened his lips and murmured, tritely, “She will be fine, my lord.”

“Oui, mon seigneur,”
echoed Collette. In her distress, she reverted to her native language. She added, in English, “My lady will recover completely, my lord.”

“I hope so,” he said, softly. Shaking off the seductive fingers of despair, he asked in a much more normal tone of voice, “Gilmore, can you get me a cup of tea and some toast? I have skipped two meals, and I have a feeling it may be a very long night.”

“Of course, my lord. Anything for—?” He paused, unsure if he should continue.

Nicholas shook his head. “Let's wait to see what the doctor says. Sims should be able to find a doctor within an hour of here. Perhaps she will be awake by then.”

His optimistic words did not prove to be prophetic. When the doctor arrived nearly two hours after she had been found, Rebecca was still unconscious. The cup of tea sat half-finished on the dressing table and the toast untouched. Nicholas had pulled the chair by the bed and had spent most of the unending hours holding Rebecca's hand. Every few minutes, he would call her name softly.

Gilmore and Collette waited stoically in the room. Neither dared to voice their fears. The sight of the strong man forced to his knees by his love for his wife nearly caused the tears in their eyes to brim over to roll along their faces.

When the doctor was announced, all three looked expectantly toward the man. He was a fine-boned young man who introduced himself as Dr. Geoffrey Scott. “I understand Lady Foxbridge was caught by a mantrap, my lord.” There was disgust in his voice. It was clear that he considered it nearly justifiable that one of those who had planted the barbarous devices in the ground had been the victim.

Nicholas did not care what the man thought of him and his family, but he did not want the doctor influenced negatively toward Rebecca. Quietly, he replied, “Yes, Dr. Scott. No one suspected any remained on the grounds. My grandfather ordered them all removed years ago when my father and his siblings were youngsters. This one must have been overlooked. It was so old and rusted, it could not close properly.”

“Fortunately for Lady Foxbridge.” Dr. Scott lost his belligerence. He could have compassion for his patient if she was innocent of the crime of trying so sadistically to keep starving men from providing food for their families.

“Yes,” Nicholas seconded, “fortunately for her. She's over here.” He liked the brash man who could be no older than himself. “She is unconscious, and it's obvious that she has been cut by the jaws of the trap which were around her right leg when we found her.”

He walked to the bed. “Everyone will please leave while I examine her, except you.” He pointed to Collette. “I shall need your help.”

“Now, see here—” began Nicholas.

Dr. Scott faced him as he slipped his black coat off. “My lord, please leave. You are delaying her examination. I will report as soon as I know what is causing this problem.”

The light eyes of the doctor met the anguished eyes of the taller man, and, for once, Nicholas was the first to back down. Signaling to his valet, they went to the door. In the sitting room of the suite, others waited. As the doctor had dismissed him, Nicholas ordered everyone else from the room. He did not want the staff to witness his disintegration into agony.

Only Eliza ignored his order. Curtis had left Foxbridge Cloister after the search ended. He would come back in the morning when he would not be in the way. She had appreciated his kindness, not being able to guess that the real reason he had left was to spend the evening at the Three Georges buying drinks for his companions.

She sat on a settee and did not say anything, so Nicholas paid her no mind. She watched as he went to the windows in the wall opposite the fireplace. He opened one and looked out toward the ocean.

In the extraordinary quiet of the house this evening, Nicholas could hear the far-off sound of the sea which did not cease its motion even though disaster had struck Foxbridge Cloister. He leaned on his elbows and hid his face in his hands. What he had feared had come to pass. He had brought Rebecca to his home only to add more sorrow to her life. He had wanted to give her love, but continued to provide only misery. He wondered if he ever would have a chance to atone for his crime of wanting her too much.

She must wake again. If she did not … He groaned as his hands fisted against his forehead. She must wake.

She must.

Chapter Nine

“My lord? Lord Foxbridge?”

Nicholas turned at Collette's impatient call. “Is the doctor done so soon?” He could not keep from thinking this meant the worst.

“No, my lord.” She smiled to ease his distress. “It's Lady Foxbridge. She is awake, and she won't cooperate until she sees you.”

He grinned as he stepped through the door. His eyes went to the bed where finally the blue eyes in the peaked face were open. As she met his gaze, he affixed a false scowl on his lips to match the mock anger in his voice. “I hear you are refusing to cooperate with the doctor, Rebecca. This is hardly the time for your Yankee stubbornness.”

His smile returned as she laughed softly. She winced as the sound hurt her aching skull. “You had better be glad,” she said, in a hoarse whisper, “that I have that thick head you've accused me of having. The doctor said I took quite a bump.”

“Sit over there, Lord Foxbridge,” ordered the doctor, although he was smiling also. “Now, my lady, you have seen your husband. Will you allow me to continue?”

“Yes,” she murmured. She closed her eyes and sank back into the pillows. If the truth must be known, she felt awful. The last thing she could remember, before awaking moments ago, was the sharp pain pulsating in her right leg. She did not dare to ask what had happened, unsure if she wanted to know.

Quickly and competently, the doctor cut away her ruined gown. He frowned as he saw the row of toothmarks across her thigh. With the freshly boiled water he had ordered, he washed the dirt and dried blood from the injured area. He saw the lady's hands grasp the sheets, but she did not utter a sound. Most of his patients screamed during this process. His respect for her increased. He hated having to do what he must next.

“My lord, I need a bottle of whiskey.” At the shock on the man's face, he added, “Not for me, but for your lady.”

Nicholas nodded and sent Collette to fetch it. While they waited for her to return, he went to the other side of the bed. He picked up Rebecca's clenched fingers. Stroking her forehead, he asked, “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

She grimaced. “I may not be dancing for a while.”

The doctor reassured her, “Only for a short time, my lady. It isn't as serious as it could have been. You were very lucky.”

“This is lucky? What do you British consider bad luck?”

Both men laughed at her ironic words. None of Rebecca's sense of humor had been bruised. Nicholas was pleased, for she would need it in the days of recovery ahead.

Collette returned with a bottle and a cup. She knew what the doctor intended to do, so she had brought what he needed. Dr. Scott poured a large serving into the cup and handed it to Rebecca. “Drink, my lady.”

“I don't drink this,” she said in surprise. “I never have.”

“All the better. You will need less if you aren't used to it. It's to dull the pain, my lady. Perhaps someday we will have something better to help, but for now this is the best I can offer you.” When she hesitated, he ordered again, “Drink it all, but not too fast.”

The first sip burned all the way to her stomach and brought tears to her eyes. No one laughed as she choked with the bitter taste of the whiskey. She looked into Nicholas' eyes and saw his pain. His expression told her of the torment he had known as he had searched for her. Taking courage from him, she tried a second drink. As she slowly drained the cup, it no longer seemed to taste so horrible. A warmth from her center enveloped her in a haze that ruffled the edges of her vision. She found it easier to close her eyes and be rocked on the gentle sway of the bed.

Dr. Scott took the cup from her fingers as she settled deeper into the pillows. He smiled grimly. “She's right. She must not drink at all, if this small bit of whiskey incapacitates her so quickly. Collette, I need that bottle back. Pour more into the cup in case she needs it. Good. Give me the bottle.”

Taking a deep breath, he tilted the bottle so that the clear, amber liquid flowed into the deep cuts. As he had expected, the woman came awake with a scream of agony. He swore as her convulsive motion knocked the bottle from his hand. “Hold her down, my lord. I must put salve on these and sew them shut. She must be kept still.”

“I will do my best.” Nicholas' face was grey beneath his deeply engrained tan. It hurt him to see her in such anguish. He concentrated on keeping her motionless. Collette helped also. From Rebecca's lips came mumbles of pain-wracked phrases that made no sense. It seemed forever until the doctor ordered them to release her. Across her badly swollen leg was a swath of medicine and bloodstained bandages.

The doctor motioned for Nicholas to follow him after ordering the maid to dress Lady Foxbridge in her nightgown. “If possible, don't move her leg. If you must, move it as little as you can.”

Eliza came forward as they closed the door to the bedroom. Quickly, Nicholas introduced her to the doctor. Both listened as the doctor spoke of his findings. “As I told her, Lord Foxbridge, she was very lucky. The cuts are deep, but I don't think there is any permanent damage. She must stay in bed at least a week, more likely two. The swelling in that leg must go down before she puts any weight on it. If she strains it at all, infection might spread through it, and it would mean amputating her leg.”

“No! Not Rebecca!” cried Eliza. She could not imagine that happening to her sister-in-law.

“Hush, Eliza,” said Nicholas. “The doctor said that all we must do is keep her in bed. All?” He chuckled, much relieved with Rebecca's near-miraculous escape from death. “We may have to tie her down to keep her in bed, Dr. Scott, but she will follow your orders. I trust you will be checking her regularly. Of course, our carriage is available for your convenience for calls here and to help you facilitate calls on your other patients.”

“That is very gracious of you, Lord Foxbridge. Keep her quiet tonight. It might not be a bad idea if you can get her to drink more whiskey to dull the pain. I can assure you she will be in misery for the next few days.”

Nicholas asserted, “She will be a very stoic patient. Rebecca is brave about everything. Impatience with her injury is something else altogether, but we will deal with that when we get to it.”

Dr. Scott rose and picked up his bag. “Very good. I will be back by midmorning at the latest. I have several patients I must check first. By ten, at the latest, I will be back to change the bandages. Don't touch them before then even if they get blood-soaked. Just slip cloths under her leg if you are worried about the mess.”

“That doesn't concern me. All I want is for Rebecca to be well again.” He held out his hand, for the first time noticing the multitude of scratches on the palm. Dried blood had etched a bas-relief design into his skin. Worried for Rebecca, he had ignored the slight pain. He continued to do so. “Thank you for coming so promptly. We will see you in the morning, Dr. Scott.”