Page 88 of Leap of Faith
“Who can think of a horse while Joy is fighting for her life?”
Dominic agreed, but horses were everything to Freddy. It was a testament to his regard for Joy. Many would find it hard to believe that Dominic himself would not be at Newmarket.
They climbed the stairs and Dominic gently pushed the door open wide enough to look inside. Joy had not changed from her supine immobility in the bed, but Faith looked distressed.
“What is it?” He went directly to her side, but then he saw what concerned her. Blood had eased through the dressing. “When was the last time it was changed?”
“I am not certain.” She shook her head. “The hours and days seem to merge together.”
Suddenly, Little Freddy let out a howl and leapt from the bed.
“Oh! Mr. Cunningham!” Faith exclaimed.
He lifted the kitten up to his cheek, and it was difficult to say which of them was more pleased to see the other. “Forgive my intrusion, Miss Whitford, but I could not stay away without seeing for myself how she goes on.”
“It is hard to say. She stirs when her sedative wears off, but she has not yet said anything or seemed to recognize me.”
“Do you wish for me to send for Dr. Harvey?” Dominic asked.
“I assume he will visit soon. He has not yet attended upon her today, but the bleeding worries me.”
Dominic noticed Freddy standing there, looking upset. “Would you mind taking little Freddy outside, Freddy? He hasn’t been out in several hours.”
A look of relief passed across his face. “I would be happy to.”
With another sad look at Joy, he left the room.
“Mr. Cunningham looked like he was going to be ill. The sight of blood does not agree with everyone. How prudent of you to have sent him on an errand.”
“He seems deeply affected.”
“My lord, I think the dressing needs to be changed. The bleeding seems to be worsening.”
“Are there spare bandages? I confess, I have little experience in the sick room.” He looked at the stack of medicines and towels on the table.
“Yes, but some boiled water would not go amiss,” she said, frowning at the basin of cold water.
He reached for the bell-pull and requested the water and fresh towelling and to have someone send for the doctor.
Faith washed her hands as soon as there was fresh water and Dominic removed his jacket and waistcoat before washing his own hands.
“How may I help?” he asked.
“If you would hold up her head while I unravel the bandage.”
Dominic gingerly lifted the uninjured side.
“I have nursed my sisters through any number of illnesses, from measles to chicken pox to sore throats, and cleaned and bandaged any number of cuts and scrapes, but this is entirely beyond my experience,” she revealed nervously.
“You are doing well. I do know, if it bleeds heavily, we will need to put pressure upon it,” he said. “I remember that from watching someone who had been shot.”
Faith gave him a look of shock.
“I will tell you about it another time,” he murmured.
Slowly, he lifted Joy’s head as she unwound the bandage. Parts of it were stuck to Joy’s matted hair and Faith peeled them away, then uttered an exclamation at what she saw.
Dominic lowered Joy’s head and came around to look. He muttered an unintelligible curse. Joy’s temple bore a large cut, half the size of a horseshoe, which had been stitched and now looked like a side of raw beef from all of the swelling and bruising, the more so due to the trickling blood.
