“Very good, my lady,” Rheem said softly from his place where he examined the new bindings. “His lordship’s whole body shifted as if he meant to rise, though he is, in reality, still too weak. Yet, now he will make the attempt again and again until he is able to sit up. However, first, I must replace the pad on his actual bullet wound. As long as his lordship wishes to recover, Marksman’s chances to survive have doubled.”
No more was said as Rheem completed his treatments. At length, she was alone with Alexander again. She took her place on the edge of the mattress to recapture his hand. “Marksman. Alexander,” she said softly, but with urgency. “You mustunderstand I have not presented you with permission to leave me. You are a man of honor and must perform thusly. This is Theodora, my dearest boy, and, though I adore you, I cannot be worrying so. I have a wedding to plan, and you, my love, will play a major role in the proceedings. Therefore, you must fight to return to me. I know you are weary of fighting, yet, neither your sister nor I can think of a tomorrow without you as part of it.”
Surprisingly, in response, his fingers wrapped about Dora’s thumb and her pointing finger, and his eyes opened to focus on her.
“Dor…” he murmured through a raspy voice.
“Yes, love. I am here. I could be nowhere else. I shall not leave you. I promise.”
The moment was gone as his eyes closed again. He expelled a breath that for several agonizing seconds she thought could be his last. She tentatively placed her hand on his chest and discovered a shallow rise and fall, but at least it was there. More importantly, his hand still grasped her thumb and finger. His hold had not gone limp, as had the rest of his body. His hold was still steady, so she placed her other hand over his and lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it.
She had no idea how long she had sat thusly. Long enough for numbness to claim her legs and arms, but numbness was no trial. It no longer quashed her hope.
It was anothertwo days before Alexander again awakened. Cautiously, he turned his head, fearing the sound of thunderous drums would return, but it did not. At length, his eyes landed on the image he sought. Theodora sat, or he should say “slumped,” in a nearby chair. Her chignon had fallen to the side, but he had never considered her more beautiful. Her sewing must havedropped to the floor, for there were spools of thread and scissors resting upon the lap of her gown, and he knew she would be upset that the threads would be tangled, but he was simply happy to look upon her sweet countenance in repose.
He licked his dried and cracked lips and immediately knew he was thirsty. Alexander attempted to lift his head, but it was still too heavy. He glanced up at the bed drape and recognized it immediately. “Duncan Place,” he murmured. “Not Dutton Hall.” That explained why Theodora was close and no one else oversaw their being in the same room without a chaperone. “Dor…” he tried and then made himself say, “Dora” with more emphasis. “Dora,” he repeated.
Immediately, she bolted upright and looked around as if she thought someone else was in the room, and then her eyes shot to where he watched her. Recognition arrived, and she instantly reached for him, though, in truth, she momentarily swayed in place, as if she was still dreaming. “Alexander,” she whispered as tears rushed to her eyes and she claimed his hand.
“I thought… I… dreamed you,” he rasped.
She brought the back of his hand to her lips to kiss it, and Alexander thought he recalled her doing so recently. Her eyes closed as she murmured, “Thank you, God, for your great healing.” She kissed his hand again and then his cheek and forehead. “I feared we would lose you.”
“How long?” he asked.
“Six days.”
“And you… have been…”
“Neither Mr. Rheem nor Mrs. Chester nor Benjamin would allow me into the room on the first two nights. However, since I discovered where you had developed an infection around the stitches, they have expressed no complaints.”
He smiled as best he could. “That is… my girl.”
“Here, permit me to give you some water. Later, we shall attempt some clear broth.” She took a spoon and claimed a splash of water and dropped cool teaspoons of water upon his tongue. He had never known a better feeling. He was alive. He was with Theodora. At length, he shook off her efforts.
“You said… my sister?” he asked.
“Asleep in Richard’s quarters. Annalise and I have been watching over you. Taking turns.”
“Honfleur?” he asked.
“Captured and in custody, as is Lady Caroline and nearly three dozen forgers. Liverpool is singing our praises. Even Mrs. Dove-Lyon sent around a note of concern. I think you have earned the woman’s respect.”
“Only care… about… your opinion.”
“I have always loved you. Such will never change.” She glanced to the door. “I should send for Mr. Rheem and tell the others that your fever has broken, but…”
“Only… your father… and Annalise… for now.”
She bent to kiss him gently, but Alexander demanded more. “Only sustenance… I require.”
Theodora blushed. “Soon,” she promised. “As quickly as you are well enough to place both arms about me.”
Alexander thought to lift his injured arm, but Dora put a quick pause to his action. “Mr. Rheem will determine when you are able to move. Thankfully, Caroline Moreau was as poor of a shot as she is a swords person. The bullet meant for your heart hit your right shoulder bone instead, as well as the strap of the gun case laced over your arm for your extra gun. Part of the bone splintered, but it will regrow, for a lack of another word. Rheem fished out several bone flakes and slivers of the bullet all the way to the pit of your arm. You will have a lovely scar announcing you as a survivor.”
“The scar… will not… turn you… away?” he asked as he watched her complete nurse-like ministrations.
She blushed, but Theodora said, “I promise to kiss every inch of it while I thank God for our second chance.”
“Fetch… the others… love. My energy… wanes,” he instructed.
“They can wait until you wake again,” she said in concern, as she straightened the blanket and bed linens across his chest.
“Lie… beside me… Dora. That is… enough… for now.”
She nodded and went about straightening the sheet and blanket and then picking up her threads. As he expected, she tutted her tongue in disapproval when she saw how they were twisted. “Later, if you wish, I shall ask Papa’s valet to shave you, or we might send for Mr. Quinn.”
“Later, Dora,” he repeated and tapped the smoothed-over bed cover. “Lie… beside me. Provide me… hope… to survive. Just as… you did… before… when… I held onto… your love.”
“You felt it?” she asked, but Alexander was too exhausted to do more than have the woman of his heart lying beside him. Therefore, he closed his eyes and dreamed of their future and the making of a half dozen grandchildren for Lord Duncan.
