She’ll need it.”
Austin nodded. He was more than acquainted with the benefits and the risks of using laudanum from when he’d taken care of Gabe. A woman of Lady Fledgemont’s size wouldn’t take nearly the amount he’d given Gabe.
“Watch her through the night,” the doctor said when they were out of the room. “Hopefully, she won’t develop a fever. If she doesn’t, she should heal fairly rapidly. If she does—” He paused. “Well, we’ll hope she doesn’t.”
Austin knew what the doctor meant. Just like in the Crimea, more soldiers died from fever than from bullets.
“Thank you, Doctor Blevins.” Austin handed the doctor a coin.
Doctor Blevins took a step down the hall then stopped. “I’ll be back tomorrow. If you need me sooner, send someone for me.”
Austin thanked him again then walked back into the room. He softly closed the door and looked at her delicate figure on the bed. He tried to sort through the emotions tangling with one another, tried to figure out why on earth his world seemed to shift when he looked at her. For some reason he couldn’t understand, she was more important to him than he ever intended to let anyone become.
Mrs. Pollock had straightened the covers over Lady Fledgemont and put fresh water in the basin. Several clean cloths lay on the table and she rinsed one in the water and dabbed it against the lady’s face.
He suddenly wanted to laugh. After all they’d been through, he could still only think of her as Lady Fledgemont. Not by her given name.
Her name was Collette. He knew it was. But Collette didn’t fit her. A name like that seemed too…contrived. As if she’d made it up for the stage.
He suddenly wondered what name she’d been born with. Mary, perhaps. Or Jane. Something that embodied a natural goodness and wholeness. Something that encompassed all that was gentle and kind.
He knew how futile it was to think of her in such familiar terms. He would continue to think of her as Lady Fledgemont. That was safer. The further he could separate himself from her the safer his heart would be.
He walked to the bed and looked from the babe sleeping near the hearth to the woman lying on the bed. She’d seen the gunman and had thrown herself in front of the babe to protect him.
A wave of guilt grabbed hold of him and refused to let go. She’d been shot because he hadn’t done his job, because he hadn’t fully believed her and taken the necessary precautions. Oh, yes, he’d believed someone had broken into her home. He’d even believed she thought the intruder meant to harm the babe. But he hadn’t believed that someone had actually intended to kill Jonathan.
Now, he did. And it was possible that someone was Penderly.
She’d been shot because he’d refused to believe Penderly could harm the babe. Because he’d been so driven with the need to atone for the son he’d taken from Penderly, that he hadn’t been objective about Penderly’s motives. Austin called himself every kind of fool. How could he have been so blind? How could he have been taken in so completely?
If she died, it would be his fault. Hers would be one more life he could add to the long list of innocent people who’d died at his hand.
He took in a pain-filled breath, then turned his gaze when he realized he wasn’t alone. Mrs. Pollock stood beside him.
“The babe’s asleep. Did you want me to care for him in my room, or care for him here?”
“He’ll stay here. Lady Fledgemont needs to know he’s close by.”
“After what happened, I thought as much. I’ll warm some milk and be back in a bit. When he wakes he’ll no doubt be demanding to be fed.”
“Yes, no doubt.”
“Is there anything else you need, sir?”
“Yes, Mrs. Pollock. I need to send a message. Is there someone who can deliver it?”
“O’course. Young Jamie can. I’ll send him right up.”
Mrs. Pollock opened the door but turned back before she left the room. “She’ll be all right, sir. She’s
Austin nodded. He was more than acquainted with the benefits and the risks of using laudanum from when he’d taken care of Gabe. A woman of Lady Fledgemont’s size wouldn’t take nearly the amount he’d given Gabe.
“Watch her through the night,” the doctor said when they were out of the room. “Hopefully, she won’t develop a fever. If she doesn’t, she should heal fairly rapidly. If she does—” He paused. “Well, we’ll hope she doesn’t.”
Austin knew what the doctor meant. Just like in the Crimea, more soldiers died from fever than from bullets.
“Thank you, Doctor Blevins.” Austin handed the doctor a coin.
Doctor Blevins took a step down the hall then stopped. “I’ll be back tomorrow. If you need me sooner, send someone for me.”
Austin thanked him again then walked back into the room. He softly closed the door and looked at her delicate figure on the bed. He tried to sort through the emotions tangling with one another, tried to figure out why on earth his world seemed to shift when he looked at her. For some reason he couldn’t understand, she was more important to him than he ever intended to let anyone become.
Mrs. Pollock had straightened the covers over Lady Fledgemont and put fresh water in the basin. Several clean cloths lay on the table and she rinsed one in the water and dabbed it against the lady’s face.
He suddenly wanted to laugh. After all they’d been through, he could still only think of her as Lady Fledgemont. Not by her given name.
Her name was Collette. He knew it was. But Collette didn’t fit her. A name like that seemed too…contrived. As if she’d made it up for the stage.
He suddenly wondered what name she’d been born with. Mary, perhaps. Or Jane. Something that embodied a natural goodness and wholeness. Something that encompassed all that was gentle and kind.
He knew how futile it was to think of her in such familiar terms. He would continue to think of her as Lady Fledgemont. That was safer. The further he could separate himself from her the safer his heart would be.
He walked to the bed and looked from the babe sleeping near the hearth to the woman lying on the bed. She’d seen the gunman and had thrown herself in front of the babe to protect him.
A wave of guilt grabbed hold of him and refused to let go. She’d been shot because he hadn’t done his job, because he hadn’t fully believed her and taken the necessary precautions. Oh, yes, he’d believed someone had broken into her home. He’d even believed she thought the intruder meant to harm the babe. But he hadn’t believed that someone had actually intended to kill Jonathan.
Now, he did. And it was possible that someone was Penderly.
She’d been shot because he’d refused to believe Penderly could harm the babe. Because he’d been so driven with the need to atone for the son he’d taken from Penderly, that he hadn’t been objective about Penderly’s motives. Austin called himself every kind of fool. How could he have been so blind? How could he have been taken in so completely?
If she died, it would be his fault. Hers would be one more life he could add to the long list of innocent people who’d died at his hand.
He took in a pain-filled breath, then turned his gaze when he realized he wasn’t alone. Mrs. Pollock stood beside him.
“The babe’s asleep. Did you want me to care for him in my room, or care for him here?”
“He’ll stay here. Lady Fledgemont needs to know he’s close by.”
“After what happened, I thought as much. I’ll warm some milk and be back in a bit. When he wakes he’ll no doubt be demanding to be fed.”
“Yes, no doubt.”
“Is there anything else you need, sir?”
“Yes, Mrs. Pollock. I need to send a message. Is there someone who can deliver it?”
“O’course. Young Jamie can. I’ll send him right up.”
Mrs. Pollock opened the door but turned back before she left the room. “She’ll be all right, sir. She’s
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