The one who had given her the sweetest taste of love, only to tear it away.
Immediately flooded with memories of a time long ago, Charlotte’s breath came in quick pants, panic seizing her. Pressing a hand to her chest, she worked to calm her nerves, her vision growing blurry. The servants seemed to notice her change in demeanor and struggled between dropping the man and helping their lady.
“Miss Charlotte, you’ve gone deathly pale,” Aamina said, appearing in the foyer and rushing to Charlotte’s side. Her large, dark brown eyes were wide with worry. She placed a steadying arm around Charlotte’s shoulders.
Pressing a hand to her forehead, Charlotte lowered her gaze. After a few strained breaths, Charlotte fixated on the familiarity of Aamina in her muted gray dress and crisp white apron. The maid had a calming effecton her senses.
Aamina’s warm brown hand curled over hers and squeezed. “Perhaps you should go for a rest. We will care for him.”
Reality came back into sharp focus at her maid’s words. A man was in need, and they must move quickly. He was in grave danger.
Charlotte gathered herself and stood more confidently than she felt. “Bring him to the yellow bedroom. Quickly!”
Straightening her spine, she nodded in the direction of the footmen.
“Is that wise, miss? Perhaps we should put him in the guest wing, where there would be less chance of him catching a glimpse of you. Or Miss Aurelia,” Aamina questioned.
Considering the words for a mere moment, Charlotte shook her head and turned to the butler. “Hutchins, have him brought to the yellow room. We must act with haste; this man needs a doctor. We will treat him as best we can, keep him comfortable, and you will notify his family. I know this man.”
Hutchins nodded and did as she bid, directing the servants to the upper floor.
Charlotte sighed, leaning against the wall as the servants carried him up the sweeping staircase to the nearest guest bedroom. Hutchins sent another servant to fetch the doctor from the village. A scullery maid, Nessie, appeared and kneeled to scrub away the bright drops of blood marring the gleaming marble tile.
There was no time to wait for the rooms in the west to be cleaned and prepared. This man needed a doctor immediately, or he would surely perish. A tightness took hold in her chest, choking the words in her throat. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, then clutched it to her chest. Surely, her eyes were deceiving her.
She had seen a ghost.
There was no need to see his eyes; she knew they would be icy blue, and nothing would escape their scrutiny. The dark-haired giant of a man was in her foyer and soon to be ensconced in thebedroom near hers. A vision from deep in the past. A vision from her private, most secret dreams.
How would she survive having him back in her life?
How would she survive if he died under her care?
The thought chilled her blood.
Charlotte must ensure his survival, without his ever knowing she resided in the home. She would return him to his family in perfect ignorance of her existence on the estate. A bolt of fear traveled up her spine. Charlotte hastened to find Aurelia and her nurse in the garden, pausing only to lean against the glass-paned doors and watch the sweet happiness her daughter experienced, blessedly oblivious. Her fingers curled into her skirts, desperately trying to hide her frayed nerves. The flurry of shiny golden-brown hair as it bounced around her daughter’s shoulders, Aurelia’s musical giggle floating on the breeze coming off the coast, reminded her of what was important.
No one could discover the truth.
Somehow, Peregrine Spencer had found her at Fermoy.
He must never learn her secret.
Chapter Five
Wringing out her handkerchief, Charlotte stood in the doorway, her heart racing as she watched the men tending to Peregrine… Her dear Perry.
“Perhaps we shall leave the men to it,” Aamina suggested, the words a soft whisper coming from behind. The maid’s usually perfect dark hair had become slightly mussed with all the excitement. Her eyes were wide with apprehension as she watched the events take place in the bedroom next to Charlotte’s.
If Aamina looked even slightly disheveled, Charlotte assumed she must look a fright. She stroked the side of her head, attempting to smooth back her hair as she considered. How much easier would it be to simply disappear…as she always had. The risk of Perry catching a glimpse would be small if she stayed away.
If she could stay away.
With a silent shake of her head, she pushed her fear down and took a step toward him. Their patient took up all the space in the small bed. Hutchins bent over Perry; his gray brow creased with worry. Bexley removed Perry’s boots, tucking them out of the way. Her breath caught as she understood what was happening. Theywere undressing him to make him more comfortable and to see the extent of the damage caused by his wound.
With a falsely confident flourish, she brushed aside any doubts. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before; she was familiar with all parts of this man.
Charlotte chewed her bottom lip as Hutchins cut the fine fabric of Peregrine’s shirt with scissors. The footman placed a ewer of steaming hot water on the table in the room. Aamina came into the room clutching a fresh pile of clean cloths and carefully poured the hot water into a separate bowl. Bexley helped Hutchins peel back the shirt from Perry’s chest and lift him to remove the bloodied rags that remained. Their patient grunted at the movement. She would send someone to find one of her Papa’s nightshirts to cover him once they tended to his wound.
