Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone Sheriff\The Gentleman Rogue\Never Trust a Rebel (55 page)

Drew stirred and she was immediately alert. She placed the back of her hand on his brow and uttered up a little prayer of thanks when she found it was not fevered. He did not open his eyes, but he batted her hand away, as if it was some irritating insect. She fetched the horn beaker and held it to his lips.

‘Here, drink this. It is barley water and will refresh you.' She wished it had been laudanum, but Mrs Parfitt had told her there was none in the house.

He raised his head and took a few sips, his eyes remaining closed as if in exhaustion, then he sank back against the pillows. Elyse returned the cup to the table and sat down on her chair again. There was nothing to be done until the doctor arrived.

‘Elyse.'

He barely breathed the word. She could not even be sure she had heard him correctly.

‘I am here.' She reached out and clasped his good hand. ‘We are safe.'

He squeezed her fingers. It was the faintest pressure, but somehow infinitely reassuring.

* * *

Elyse woke to find the morning sun pouring into the room and bathing everything in a golden light. She was slumped over the bed, her hand still holding Drew's. She sat up stiffly, blinking in the light. As she tried to pull her fingers away Drew's grip tightened. He was awake and watching her.

‘Have you been here all night?'

‘I fell asleep.' His gaze was oddly disconcerting and she felt the hot blush rising through her body to be so close, to be holding his hand as if they were...friends. Lovers.

* * *

Drew was aware of the nagging pain in his left arm. He had only the vaguest idea of what had happened last night. He remembered the explosion of pain as the bullet hit his shoulder, the struggle through the trees and the look of horror on his father's face. Everything else was a confusion of pain and oblivion.

Until now. Now he was lying in a familiar room and Elyse was holding his hand. Her fingers were nestled beneath his and for some unfathomable reason he felt it was imperative that he did not let her go. He heard the door open and Elyse rose from her chair beside the bed. Reluctantly Drew released her hand as a familiar, cheerful voice addressed him, taking him back to his childhood.

‘Now then, Master Andrew, here's Dr Hall come to see you.'

Mrs Parfitt came into the room with a rustle of black skirts, as large and cheerful as ever. Save for a few more grey hairs she looked no different than when she had waved him off from Hartcombe all those years ago. She had expected him back within a month, but it had been a decade, and he should not be here. His father did not want him here.

Pushing aside the unpleasant thought he raised his eyes to the tall, bewhiskered man in a black frock-coat and wide-brimmed hat following in her wake. The doctor had known him all his life, had treated him for his childhood illnesses and accidents and the housekeeper had wisely not tried to keep his identity a secret. Neither of them would betray him, Drew was sure of that, but what sort of reception could he expect from the good doctor? Drew waited warily for Dr Hall to speak.

‘Well, you young scamp, what have you done now?'

Immediately Drew was twelve years old again, having fallen out of a tree and broken his leg. His relaxed and managed a grin.

‘I've got you out of your bed at an unholy hour, sir, that's for sure.'

‘I sent Jed off to summon Dr Hall the moment he got back,' put in Mrs Parfitt, clasping her hands across her snowy apron. ‘Not that the doctor needed any second bidding when Jed told him who it was lying here with a bullet in his arm. And you're not to be worryin' that anyone else'll learn your identity, Master Andrew, for neither me nor Jed would mention it to another soul outside this house.'

Their loyalty moved Drew so much that he was unable to speak. Silently he returned his attention to Dr Hall, who was already removing his coat.

‘So it's a bullet this time, is it? Well, let me have a look at you, then we had best get it out.'

‘I shall assist you,' said Elyse.

‘You will not.' Drew glowered at her. ‘You will go and get some rest.'

‘Well, I shall need someone to help me,' declared the doctor, rolling up his sleeves, ‘And Mrs Parfitt has never been very good with the sight of blood.'

‘That's true, sir,' affirmed the housekeeper. ‘Preparing a rabbit or pheasant for dinner is about as much as I can manage, but when it comes to people—' she shuddered.

‘And Sir Edward will be wanting his breakfast very soon,' said Dr Hall, adding cheerfully, ‘So off you go, Mrs Parfitt, and leave this to me. Now, miss, we'll need some hot water and clean bandages—oh, and brandy, I think, for the patient. And something for him to bite upon.'

* * *

For the next hour Elyse followed the doctor's directions. She dared not look when he set to work to remove the bullet and could not be sorry when Drew fainted off, for the sight of his pain-racked face made her want to cry out in sympathy. While Dr Hall bandaged up the arm again she busied herself clearing everything away. She was thankful that Mrs Parfitt had suggested Drew should remain in a room on the ground floor, for with no one to help her she had to make constant journeys to and from the kitchen for fresh water. There was no sign of Jed, the manservant, and she guessed he was catching up on his sleep, while Mrs Parfitt was busy looking after Sir Edward, whose deep voice she could hear whenever she passed the small dining room.

The housekeeper looked into the sickroom just as Dr Hall was putting on his coat.

‘Ah, Mrs Parfitt, would Sir Edward like me to report to him before I leave?'

For the first time since she had arrived at Hartcombe Elyse saw the older woman looking uncomfortable. She would not meet the doctor's eyes and twisted her hands in her apron as she replied.

‘The master is too busy to see you today, sir, but I'll pass on any message to him later.'

‘Too busy, eh?' Dr Hall frowned a little, then shrugged. ‘Well, I have done all I can. The bullet is out and I have cleaned the wound but only time will tell how it will heal. I shall leave you some laudanum to help with the pain. He may become a little feverish for a few days but you'll know how to deal with that.'

‘Oh, yes, Doctor.' The housekeeper was looking more cheerful again. ‘Now you's wrapped up that wound I shan't mind nursing Master Andrew.'

‘Good. And I've shown this young lady how to bandage him up again, if that should be necessary, is that not so, Miss...?'

‘You have, and I shall be glad to help,' Elyse affirmed, smiling and ignoring his attempt to learn her name.

‘Capital, capital.' He picked up his bag. ‘I shall call again in a coupIe of days to check on his progress. No need to see me out, I know my way.'

With another cheerful smile he was gone, and the two women were left staring at the unmoving figure in the bed.

‘He is very pale,' offered Elyse.

‘Only to be expected.' Mrs Parfitt bustled about, straightening the bedcovers and tidying the room. ‘I doubt he will wake for a while yet, so you should go and get some sleep, dearie. Unless you would prefer to come to the kitchen and I'll find you something to eat?'

Elyse yawned. ‘Sleep, I think.'

‘Well, I have prepared a guest room for you upstairs Miss, so I'll show you the way—'

‘If you please,' Elyse hung back. ‘I would prefer to sleep on the truckle bed you made up for me last night,' she said. ‘Then if Dre—if Mr Castlemain does wake up I shall hear him.'

‘But I don't mind popping in every now and again—'

‘But you have your own work to do and I should not sleep half so well if I was too far away.'

Elyse's gentle determination won the day and she settled down to sleep in the little room next door, but her rest did not last long. When the brandy wore off Drew became restless. His mutterings roused her and she was already at his bedside when his restive tossing caused him to move his injured arm and he cried out in pain.

She forced a little laudanum between his dry lips, then bathed his brow with the lavender water thoughtfully provided by the housekeeper. His temperature was rising, and by the evening she was obliged to call Mrs Parfitt to help her as he was growing increasingly agitated.

* * *

Throughout the night they took it in turns to remain at his side and it was only the older woman's experience that prevented Elyse from seeking out Jed and begging him to ride for the doctor once more. Mrs Parfitt assured her that there was nothing to fear, that the fever was mild and would run its course. Elyse could not be easy, but by the morning Drew did indeed appear a little calmer. His restlessness had set the wound bleeding again during the night and she was left wondering anxiously just how much blood he could afford to lose.

* * *

She spent the day sitting by his bed, wiping his brow and forcing small amounts of water between his lips. Mrs Parfitt did not even suggest that she should leave him and once again brought her dinner to her on a tray. Elyse thanked her and consumed her meal in the sickroom. As the evening wore on Drew did indeed seem to be sleeping peacefully, so Elyse slipped out to take the empty dishes to the kitchen rather than add to the housekeeper's workload.

‘Why thank you, my dear.' Mrs Parfitt was busy at the kitchen table, a large bowl before her and her arms white with flour up to the elbows. ‘I'm just making bread for the morning, so take the plates through to the scullery, if you would. Jed will deal with them later.'

‘It is such a big house, do you have no one else to help you?' Elyse looked around her. There were signs of neglect throughout the building and even here in the kitchen, the copper pans on the higher shelves did not look as if they had been touched for years.

The housekeeper gave her a wry smile.

‘We manage. Times have been hard for the master and he has become something of a recluse in recent years, especially since Master Simon's death.'

‘Simon?'

‘His oldest son—Master Andrew's brother. He died in a riding accident two years ago. After that the master shut up most of the house and turned off the staff. He never entertains, so mostly Jed and me manage to look after him well enough.' She smiled cheerfully and went back to her bread-making, leaving Elyse to make her way back through the dim corridors.

The door of the dining room was open and she glanced in. Sir Edward was sitting in lonely state at the head of the table. The covers had been removed and the light from a branched candelabra illuminated the decanter and wineglass before him. Elyse paused, then knocked softly on the open door.

‘I thought you might like to know how your son goes on.'

He looked up at her soft words.

‘I have no son.'

‘Very well, then, the sick man you have allowed to shelter in your house. He had been very feverish, since Dr Hall removed the bullet, but I am sure you will be relieved to know that he seems a little more comfortable this evening.'

The shadows were too deep for her to read his expression but he did not move and after a few moments she gave a tiny shrug she turned away.

‘Thank you.'

Elyse glanced back, wondering if she had imagined his reply. Sir Edward was refilling his glass, his hand not quite steady.

‘Tell Parfitt she may summon Hall again as she sees fit. And she can tell him I'll pay whatever is needed.'

Elyse did not know whether to show gratitude for his generosity, or outrage that he should be so uncaring of his son. In the end she merely nodded and began to walk away.

‘Before you go,' She turned back to find Sir Edward regarding her. ‘You have not told me your name.'

She looked at him for a long moment. Despite his assurances that he would pay the doctor's bills she still did not trust him to look after Drew. She gave a faint smile.

‘No,' she said quietly. ‘I have not.'

And with a slight curtsy she left him.

* * *

The first thing Drew was aware of when he awoke was that the light no longer hurt his eyes. The next thing was that he was at Hartcombe, but not in his own bedchamber. He recognised the room as one of the small guest chambers on the ground floor, but what in heaven's name was he doing here?

He was still trying to answer that question when the door opened and Mrs Parfitt came in.

‘Well, now, Master Andrew, so you are awake at last. That is good news. Would you like a little food, perhaps?'

‘Not hungry,' he managed, frowning with the effort. ‘Thirsty.'

She came over to the bed.

‘Take a little water, then I will find you something more nourishing. A mug of ale, perhaps.'

‘Splendid idea.' He winced a little as she helped him to sit up and pushed another pillow behind his shoulders.

He sipped at the cup she held to his lips. The cool water soothed his parched throat and helped him to collect his scattered wits.

‘How long have I been unconscious?'

‘Lord bless you, Master Andrew, nearly all the time since Dr Hall took the bullet from your arm, so that's four full days.'

‘The devil it is!' He struggled to hold on to the returning memories. ‘And the lady who came with me—is she gone to Bath?'

‘Heavens, no, sir. She's been nursing you night and day. She'd be here now if I hadn't insisted that she take a turn around the gardens. Very reluctant to leave you, she was, but I told her it would do you no good if she was to become ill, too, so I sent her out to get some fresh air. But you need not fret, she won't be away from you any longer than she can help, I'm sure.'

‘She has been nursing me?' He rubbed his good hand over his chin. ‘Has she been shaving me, too?'

‘No, not that she wouldn't have tried, but she persuaded Stinchcombe to do that.' Mrs Parfitt gave a cheerful laugh. ‘Quite adept she is at getting her own way.'

He frowned.

‘She is a lady. She should not be looking after me.'