I pushed myself up and climbed into the carriage. “No, but Miss Harlowe is wounded. To the manor. Quick as you can.”
I quivered hard when I sat down. My teeth chattered, and I lost control of my body. It twitched with nervous spasms. Irene lay immobile, pale as the moonlight. Her pulse was slowing down.
Head spinning, I tore at her dress and ran my tongue over the slash. It was too deep for my healing power to work. Blood kept oozing out.
I pressed my hand against the wound on her stomach. The contact was torture, and I couldn’t contain a shout of pain. It was as if my skin stretched and ripped.
“Your Grace?” the coachman called.
“Go on. Don’t worry about me.” My throat seemed filled with glass shards.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the mansion, and I’d barely collected myself before the footman opened the door.
“Carry Miss Harlowe to her bedroom.” I strode inside on trembling legs, trying to look in control. “Lowe, fetch me Mr. Strange,” I ordered my butler.
I paused at the foot of the stairs before going up.
Darius met me halfway up the stairs. “What is it?”
“Irene was stabbed. She’s very weak.”
He gave me a nod that meant he understood how I felt.
The footman hurried past us with an unconscious Irene in his arms. I hated being so useless right when she needed me the most.
I’d promised her I would protect her.
We gathered around her bed. The blood formed a large red stain on her belly and dripped from my gloved fingers.
“Save her.” I closed my fist. “Do everything, anything, to save her.”
Darius wasn’t a healer, but he knew how to stem the bleeding. He waved his hands, forming symbols in the air I didn’t recognise. Each movement left a trail of glittering stars. The light engulfed Irene, but she didn’t react, not even when she was lifted an inch from the bed. The spell went on for several minutes.
When Darius lowered his arms, he was panting. He bent over, a hand on the bedpost.
“I stopped the bleeding, but she needs to regain her energy.” He wheezed.
I rang the bell and waited for the butler. “A tray for Mr. Strange.”
Lowe returned a few moments later with brandy balls, hot cocoa, and butter.
Darius wolfed down everything as I tucked the cover around Irene.
“Her power is at its lowest.” He washed the food down with tea. “She won’t heal without help. I’m going to prepare a potion, but she has lost a lot of blood.”
Because of my clumsiness.
“How did it happen?” he asked.
How indeed. “I got distracted at the wrong moment.”
He looked puzzled. That made two of us.
“I’d better prepare that potion.” He took another sip of sweet tea.
When he left, I sat on the edge of the bed, wishing I could hold her hand without passing out. My cursed fear had nearly killed her.
“I’m sorry. I wish I were the man you need.” Slowly, I brushed a long golden curl from her cheek. “I almost killed you twice.”
