Page 25 of The Girl Out of Time
He’s so cold.She blew in, gently at first; retreated to take in more air herself, then gave it to him.Wake up. Please, wake up.
One more breath into his mouth, and his chest lifted.
She wanted screamfrom joy, but instead, she continued blowing him more air with renewed zeal.Come on, you’re almost there—
He coughed, and Emmeline jumped away in time for him to lean to the side and spew out water.
“Leon!” She turned him to her. He was alive, but his eyes remained closed, and as she called him again, he gave no sign of hearing her.
“It’s all right. Everything is going to be all right.” She brushed his cheek, leaving a red trail behind.
Emmeline turned her palm toward her, swallowing a panicked scream. Her hand was bloody. When did she—how did she—she didn’t even feel—
A crimson patch spread beneath a bandage on Leon’s shoulder, hidden under the shirt. Those strange, dark brown stains on his coat fell into place. He was wounded, and she must’ve accidentally pressed on it during her resuscitation.
What on Earth had happened to him?
One thing was for sure—this was beyond her skills. He needed help.
“I’ll be right back.” She brushed his jaw. “Can you hear me? I’ll go get help. I’ll be right back, I promise. Don’t go anywhere.”
Stupid. Where is he going to go?
She took off running in the direction where the path used to be, toward Cousin Reggie’s house. But before she reached it, a gravel road came into view, and a carriage driving along it.
Emmeline ran down the slight slope, screaming and waving her arms. For once, she was happy carriages were still prevalent to automobiles in England—she’d have a higher chance of catching it. The carriage stopped, and a driver hopped off the front bench.
“Thank God.” Emmeline panted, stopping and putting her hands on her knees.
“What seems to be the matter, miss?” The man wore a black top hat and a strangely dramatic, multi-caped overcoat.
“A man on the beach. He’s wounded. He needs help.”
“Show me,” the driver responded and, without further delay, followed her with long strides.
They found Leon as she’d left him. The driver lifted him up and carried him to the carriage, where he instructed Emmeline to put a blanket over the plush bench inside. With joined effort, they carefully lowered Leon onto it.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.
“To the family nearby. The master is my mother’s cousin. It’s a grand mansion, but I’m not sure which direction from here—”
“Do not worry. I know it. I was on my way to them.”
“Really?” A heavy weight lifted off her chest. She had no idea what this man with an old-fashioned carriage would want of Cousin Reggie—sell him the vehicle as an antique, perhaps?—but at least she had some reassurance.
“I’ll stay with him.” As she settled on the bench across from Leon, the carriage sprung into motion.
For the duration of the short drive, Emmeline paid no attention to the world outside, keeping her eyes on Leon’s still form and wringing her hands. It wasn’t until the carriage stopped and the driver opened the door that she first beheld their destination.
The mansion was similar to Cousin Reggie’s, but it wasn’t his. Although far grander, it still featured a limestone facade and white stucco decorations. A set of pillars at the main entrance ran up two stories to the triangular pediment. The house’s perfect symmetry was only marred by arebellious ivy plant, climbing along one corner; it gave it a charming look, if one could call a manor of such proportions ‘charming.’
Two servants, returning to the back of the house, stopped to observe the visitors. Emmeline waved at them. “Help! We need help, please!”
One of the servants, a rotund lady in her forties, approached. “What is it, miss?”
“My friend is injured.”
The woman looked inside the carriage, eyes sweeping over Leon. “Oh, dear. Amy! Go fetch Nathan and tell Mrs. Atkins to get ready; we’ll need her.”
