Page 92 of The Rebellious Lady and the Phantom Lord
Phaedra nodded, barely able to speak past the lump in her throat. “See if the doctor has finished with my grandfather.”
As Gilly left the room, Phaedra sought to apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. Although James no longer tried to move, she felt his eyes upon her, their clear blue depths beclouded with pain. When his lips parted in an effort to speak, she hushed him.
“Don’t try to talk. It will be all right.” She wished she could believe so herself. He had lost so much blood.
“Phaedra.” He managed to whisper the one word, making it sound so sad, so full of regret, she felt as though a knife had been thrust into her own breast.
It seemed an eternity before Gilly returned with the harried surgeon. The short, bustling man shoved her aside, but Phaedra continued to hover over James until she was satisfied as to the man’s skill. The doctor knew his trade, and he stitched the wound with a brisk efficiency. From time to time, as James flinched with pain, Phaedra felt the sting herself. His face had drained as white as the bed sheets.
Phaedra pressed her hand to her lips, unable even to utter words of prayer. When the doctor had finished, he stepped away from the bed, rolling down his sleeves and snapping out commands. “Keep him quiet. Watch for signs of infection, and he’ll do. He’s young. He bears a far better chance of recovery than the old man.”
Phaedra tore her eyes from James. “Aye, my grandfather. How is he?”
“Still unconscious. He suffers from shock as much as the blow to the head.” The doctor shook his head, giving the impression that he bore not much hope for Weylin’s recovery.
The rest of the night passed with agonizing slowness for Phaedra, who was torn between her fears for the man she loved and her guilt over the pass to which her writings had brought her grandfather. She paced from one bedside to the other, where both men lay deathly still.
Despite his bulk, her grandfather looked somehow shrunken upon the pillows, as though he had aged years. But the timeworn lines of pain and grief upon James’s brow appeared smoothed, making him look younger. Phaedra had heard that it was often thus with those who hovered on the brink of death.
Morning’s light found her with eyes raw from unshed tears, her senses giddy from exhaustion. When Gilly discovered her upon her knees, being sick into the chamber pot, he led her firmly to bed.
“Enough of this, Fae,” he said sternly, “or you will soon be the one needing the doctor. I will watch over Lethington. And Jonathan has hardly left your grandfather’s side. You’ve got to sleep.”
She tried to protest, but she had no notion how exhausted she was until Gilly forced her back into the pillows. She consented to a few moments’ rest merely to appease him, never intending to close her eyes.
But the next she knew, the soft shadows of evening were drifting into the room. She heard someone moving about beyond the bed-curtains and sat up with a frightened start. But it was only Gilly, bringing her a cup of tea.
Gratefully, she gulped down the honey-sweetened brew, then started to fling aside the covers to rise. “How could you have let me sleep so long?” she asked reproachfully.
“Because you needed it,” he said, gently restraining her. “You don’t have to dash off in such a fret. Your grandfather’s improving. He’s even got a bit of his color back. And as for Lethington, he’s resting easy as a babe in his mother’s arms.”
Phaedra murmured a prayer of relief, although she could not be content until she saw James for herself. Yet Gilly refused to let her go until she choked down some toast. She ate without tasting, for the first time noticing how haggard Gilly looked himself. Deep rings had settled beneath his green eyes, and a purple bruise swelled his cheek.
She touched his face. “I am so sorry, Gilly. I hadn’t thought. No one has been looking after you.”
“No one has to.” He gave a soft laugh. “I came out of this fray far better than usual. See?” He leaned forward, indicating his eye.
“For once no black eye, although ... “ He grinned widely,revealing a tooth missing in the back. “I think I swallowed the blasted thing.”
“You never really explained how you and James escaped.”
“Well, after your grandda’s coach hied away, I think everyone kind of forgot what the riot had been about. Most were just fighting for the pure fun of it.” Gilly’s guilty expression revealed that he had not been above such feelings himself. “We were doing just fine until that scurvy sailor stuck his knife into Lethington. By that time, the constables had arrived, and the old fools only added to the confusion. I snatched someone’s horse and?—”
He broke off with a grimace of disgust, “And would you believe that damn fool James didn’t want to take it? And himself dripping blood all over the road? These English with their law-abiding notions are so cursed impractical.”
He concluded cheerfully, “Now I expect we’ll both be strung up for horse—” Gilly looked away with an embarrassed flush. “Um ... sorry, Fae. A poor jest.”
“It is all right,” she said, giving her cousin a fierce hug. “I promise I won’t be turning the pair of you rogues in.” But when she became serious and tried to thank Gilly for what he had done for James, he would have none of it.
“I could not let him die in the street.” Gilly fixed his gaze upon her, his face growing stern. “And now, my girl, you’ll be telling me what sort of mischief you were about last night.”
Although she could not meet his eyes, Phaedra made no attempt to lie. “I was going to run away with James.”
Gilly sucked in his breath. “You were just fixing to disappear without one word to me?—”
“Please, Gilly.” She stopped him, unable to bear the raw hurt that laced his voice. “I am sorry. Don’t be scolding me or upsetting yourself. I am going nowhere.” She added in accents of despair, “It is truly finished now.”
She walked away from him to stare out at the night settling over the rooftops of the city. “I am more likely to find myself standing in the dock than on the deck of a ship. When they come to arrest my grandfather?—”
