Page 59 of A Raven Reformed

“It was a joke, Isaac.”

Isaac clapped a hand to his chest and bent down to catch his breath. “Oh thank God, I thought…”

Michael was pleased to see his distress after what he’d just done to Belle. His butler stood behind Isaac, already holding his coat and hat.

“Where is Ash?” he asked as he slipped the garments on.

“At his place. The doctor is already with him.” Michael strode for the door, Isaac on his heels.

“No,” he said, holding out an arm to stop him. “You’re staying here. You owe her ladyship an obsequious apology.” He pointed toward the drawing room door. “And once you’ve done that, you’re to tell her where I’ve gone and then take up your usual post.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Oh, and Isaac.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“The next time you barge into a room I’m in with my wife, without knocking, you won’t be happy with the consequences. Is that clear?”

The man lowered his gaze with a nod. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good.” Michael swung the door open and strode out into the cold night. He climbed into the hack Isaac had instructed to wait. He was a good man, really. He wouldn’t have embarrassed Belle on purpose, and Michael now trusted him enough to leave him alone with her, confident in the knowledge that nothing even remotely inappropriate would occur. Isaac would make his apologies and explanations and station himself outside the door, as always. He had no doubt of that.

As soon as Michael strode through the door to Raven House, Ash’s agonized roar echoed from above. He raced up the stairs that led to Ash’s private quarters and burst through the door to his bedroom. The doctor stood, some kind of instruments in his blood covered hands. Patrick was leaned over, holding Ash’s leg down, his face pale, and sweat beading on his brow as he looked up at Michael with terror-stricken eyes.

“Stop,” Michael demanded. “What in God’s name are you doing to him?”

Patrick spoke through gritted teeth. “This bloody idiot is refusing any kind of sedation, and the doctor needs to dig the bullet fragments out of his leg.”

“What? Why no sedation?”

“Because somehow, he’s decided this is all his fault and he deserves the resulting pain.”

“Don’t be a bloody fool, Ash.”

Ash was panting on the bed. His pallor was somewhere between green and grey, but he smiled cynically at Michael.

“You don’t get to criticize me in this, Michael. I was there after you were shot, remember? I held you down.”

“No, this is different, and you know it.” He walked to the side of the bed and gave Patrick a meaningful look, before turning back to Ash. “I’m sorry, Ash.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Ash tried to stop him as he kneeled on the side of the bed and pushed him onto his back. Patrick was ready on the other side, and together they held him firmly to the bed.

“Get the ether,” Michael said urgently to the doctor.

Ash struggled against them. “You bastards! You can’t do this!” The doctor didn’t waste a second, and Ash was asleep before he could utter another word.

“You’ll thank me later, my friend.” Even while Ash was unconscious, Michael continued to hold his hand while the doctor drew up a syringe of morphine.

He held it up, seeking their permission to use it.

“In for a penny in for a pound, I suppose,” Patrick said with a shrug.

The doctor administered the medication and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said gratefully, and he worked quickly to treat the wound.

It took some time, but when he had finished removing the fragments and cleaned and stitched the wound, he wrapped a bandage around Ash’s leg. He got up and washed the blood from his hands and equipment before putting it all back into his bag. “He’s lucky it didn’t shatter his leg. But even still, it likely caused some damage to the bone. This is going to take a while to heal, and he needs to take it easy and stay off of it as much as possible.”

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