Page 67 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
Rising from his seat, he ran out of the door. He raced around to the library window and found her unconscious upon the ground, a spot of blood at her temple. “Josephine!” Frederick collapsed to his knees at her side and tenderly caressed the hair from her face in an effort to inspect the wound. She had a small gash along her hairline, but it did not look fatal. Mr. Johnson joined him upon the lawn. Frederick turned to him and ordered, “Summon a physician!”
Mr. Johnson nodded and ran for the stables to relay his master’s orders to a groom. Frederick scooped Josephine up from the ground and carried her into the house. He caught sight of his parents watching him through the library window as he passed.
Mother’s revelations must wait.
Frederick carried Josephine up to the room where she had recovered recently from pneumonia. He laid her down upon the bed and called for a maid to bring water and cloth so that he might clean her wound.
What is she doing here? What happened to her? Has she changed her mind? Who has done this?
Questions swirled through his mind like leaves in a storm. He was grateful to see her but filled with concern for her wellbeing and angry that someone would dare to hurt her.
He had not seen anyone near her when he had found her lying upon the ground, but in the time that it had taken him to get around to the window, someone could have easily run to the other side of the house. As he sat there staring down into the face of the woman he loved, it took all of his strength not to go running after the culprit and beat them about the face with his fists.
Whomever it is that has done this will be punished.
Lt. Buckworth entered the room and came to stand beside Frederick. “Mr. Johnson just told me the news. How is she? Is there anything that I can do, My Lord?”
“I do not know how she will fare. I anxiously await the arrival of the physician. There is something you can do, however.”
“Name it, and it is done.”
“Find the man responsible for her present state. It is clear that she was hit on the head with some force. With what I do not know, but she was speaking with someone right before it happened.”
“The angle, size, and shape of the wound bespeak a pistol if I am not mistaken,” Buckworth noted, leaning over the bed to get a better look at it. “Whoever has done this will have gotten blood on the weapon. I will begin the search immediately.”
Buckworth left the room, passing a maid in the doorway bringing the water and cloths that Frederick had asked for. The maid set to cleaning the wound and the hair around it that had become matted with blood. Frederick held Josephine’s hand, his eyes never leaving her face searching for a sign of wakefulness.
Awaken, my beloved Josephine. I long for the sight of your ebony eyes no matter whether they hold love or friendship. I care not as long as you return to me.
Frederick caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, gently tracing the blue veins beneath her creamy translucent skin. He raised it to his lips and tenderly kissed each knuckle in turn, willing the sensation to stir her. He turned her hand over in his and traced the lines of her palm and fingers, then lifted it, placing a kiss within its center. He folded her fingers in around it as if to hold the kiss there forever and with it, so too, his heart.
The stillness of her frightened him to his very core. She did not move at all, not a twitch, not a spasm, not a flicker of an eyelash. She lay as if she were dead, but for the tiniest perceptible breath. Frederick knelt down beside the bed and put his head atop her hand. “Do not leave me, Jo,” he whispered into her skin. “Do not leave me.”
The maid looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy in her eyes. “She is very pale and weak from her recent illness, My Lord. Perhaps it is not as terrible as it appears.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed, but he had seen her at the Greeves’ farm, and she had not looked this bad.God, do not take her from me,he prayed fervently. The gash had not initially appeared to be life-threatening as it was not deep or overly large, but the longer she remained unconscious, the worse she looked. All color had drained from her face, with the exception of the swollen dark bruise upon her temple.
The maid left the room, and Frederick remained kneeling in prayerful supplication speaking to Josephine and God in turn. His heart and mind felt as if they had been shattered and left upon the floor to be trodden under by a thousand hooves. When the doctor finally arrived, Frederick arose and allowed the physician room to work, but he refused to leave the room. He stood and watched as the doctor examined her wound and felt about her skull for further damage.
When the doctor had completed his examination, he pulled Frederick to the side to render his prognosis. “It does not look good, My Lord. She is still very weak and not fully recovered from her most recent illness. There appears to be a great deal of swelling, creating pressure on the area. It possible that there are internal injuries that I cannot see, nor can I prescribe a method of treatment other than to apply leeches to the swollen area. It is possible that in her weakened state that she may not have the strength to make it through the night.”
“What?” Frederick stared dumbfounded at the man before him unable to process the words that were coming out of his mouth. He had known it was serious but hearing it spoken in such a manner had pushed him over the brink.
“Some patients awaken from such injuries and are able to recover, while others never awaken and quietly slip away. I am sorry, My Lord, but it is the way of head trauma. I can only do so much, the rest is in the hands of God.”
“This cannot be happening. We just nearly lost her to pneumonia, and now you are telling me that might lose her after all?”
“I am afraid so, My Lord.”
Unable to contain the pain that coursed through his body like a bolt of lightning searing him from his head to his feet, Frederick picked up a figurine from the side table and threw it across the room shattering it into pieces as it crashed into the fireplace causing the flames to jump and dance. “That is unacceptable,” he whispered in agony running his hand over his face. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. “I will kill the man who did this.”
“My Lord?” the doctor looked at him with concern.
“Do not bother yourself with my words, Doctor. See to your patient. I do not accept that there is nothing you can do. Do everything in your power to see that she lives.”
“Yes, My Lord.” The doctor scurried about the room as if he were afraid that the threat of killing the man responsible also meant killing the man who could not save her. Frederick saw no reason to correct his misconception if it made him fight harder for Josephine’s life.
The doctor produced a jar of leeches and proceeded to place the black disgusting creatures upon the ever-increasing swollen lump on Josephine’s head. A memory of Greeves fighting to keep this same doctor from bleeding Josephine flashed through his mind, and for a brief moment, he wished the footman was present to offer his medical aid. Greeves had saved her once before, perhaps he could do so again.
