He placed the last sutures, applied an antiseptic and dressed the wound. With Elizabeth’s help, he placed her on the soft bed and drew the sheets up to her chest. She rested, breathing regularly. Now they had to wait.
Thinking objectively, his mind reasoned there was a very good chance that she would recover. The bullet had not hit any organs, nor had it affected the spinal cord. But his chaotic emotions were telling him that it had been too close for comfort. A matter of millimeters and she would have been paralyzed or... dead. He scrunched his eyes closed, breathing too fast.
His hands, so steady until this moment, started to shake. Followed by his whole body. He sank into a chair, fighting for control. He had come so close to losing her. She was still not out of danger. He had done the best he could, but recovery was always a chancy prospect, depending on many factors. God please, let her recover.
And their baby! He had been so focused on saving her life that he had not thought about the baby. He had not detected any sign of miscarriage, but he should call her doctor right away. He stood up and his legs gave way under him. Damn it, he was breaking down. He needed to pull himself together. Abigail needed him.
Soft hands pushed him back down into the chair. “Rest a moment, brother. You are shaking. I will fetch anything you need.”
“The doctor. Send a footman to bring the doctor.”
Elizabeth looked at him in confusion. “But you just tended to her. Why do we need another doctor?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to bring his thoughts and body under control. “The gynecologist.” At Elizabeth's continued confusion, he added. “For the baby.”
“Oh!” It finally dawned on her, and she ran from the room.
Alone again with his wife, he stood and walked towards the bed. He grabbed one of her hands. She had hard-working, capable hands. Small and elegant, but not delicate. He loved her hands. Loved her spirit. Loved her. He had been acting like a fool. And had almost lost her today.
He closed his eyes, dislodging two tears that ran down his cheeks to plop down on their entwined hands.
***
ABIGAIL WOKE TO A WORLDof pain. Her back was on fire. Her whole body felt as if a runaway coach had trampled her. A groan escaped her, and she opened her eyes to find the concerned face of her husband peering down at her in a darkened room.
“Colin.” she croaked through a throat as dry as the sands of the Sahara.
“Would you like some water?” He asked, and his tone was so serious, so impersonal that the breath froze in her lungs.
She tried to nod, but even that small movement sent agony through her back. He was already pouring a glass of water from a jug by the bedside. He brought it over to her lips and helped her drink. The fresh water was like a life giving balm to her parched mouth.
“Thank you.”
Her husband just shook his head, as if dismissing her words. What was wrong with Colin? She had never seen him so solemn. So detached. It spread fear through her chest. Was he mad at her for trying to leave him? For getting kidnapped? The events at the abandoned house came back in a rush. How he had appeared, how he had fought the kidnapper. The shot. After that, everything was blurry, but she remembered Colin holding her.
“Colin, I–”
“Shh, don’t talk. You must rest. How do you feel?”
At least his voice was gentler, if not precisely warm.
“In pain.” She whispered and closed her eyes.
“I know, love. I’m sorry. It is almost time for your next dose of morphine. I can administer it now.”
“Please.”
He turned from her to prepare the injection and she observed him. He moved almost silently. His hands working confidently in the dimly lit room. He came back holding a syringe with a rather menacing needle. She looked at it dubiously, but allowed him to lift the sleeve of her nightgown and inject the medicine into her arm.
“This will take away most of the pain, but we shouldn’t abuse it. I’ve seen soldiers become addicted to morphine after injuries.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
Colin looked at his watch. “Fourteen hours. It will soon dawn.”
“Oh. And you have been here with me all night?”
He nodded somberly. “Of course. I need to monitor your condition.”
