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Another rock of the carriage and a hesitation. How odd that he could actually feel the woman hesitate.
“He needs to be elevated,” she said. “It will slow the blood loss.”
Robert grunted.
She huffed, but so very quietly. Her voice came out sickeningly sweet. If she was trying to cover her frustration, she was doing a very poor job of it. “You do not mind sharing a bench with my valise, do you my lord? I will do the elevating.”
The bag thumped onto the seat and Robert huffed loudly. Then Nick stilled. Two small hands snaked under his head and good shoulder and lifted him gently before laying him back down onto something warm and soft.
Her lap. She had laid his head onto her lap.
It was such a kind and inappropriate thing to do that Nick did not know what to think. The carriage rolled forward, and the woman’s fingers began weaving through his hair. The soft motion was so soothing he almost forgot about the pain that was searing through his shoulder with every bump and jostle the carriage made. She combed through his hair, comforting him with her quiet murmuring. For a brief moment, he felt so content and, oddly, confident. He knew without a doubt that as long as this strange woman was around, he was going to be taken care of.
With that thought, Nick submitted to the overwhelming exhaustion and darkness that threatened the corners of his mind and slipped quietly into unconsciousness.
