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There was a scrambling and a clanging in the hallway as Lizzy came flying down the stairs. Caroline had never seen servants behave in such a way, and she might have thought it comical if she had not been in so very much pain.
“Caroline!” Lizzy screamed. “Good heavens we’ve been worried sick! I thought his Grace was going to throttle the entire household when we couldn’t find you. They carted the lot of them away to be questioned. Where have you been? Lud, is that blood? I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Stop your jabbering and go get his Grace,” the coachman grumbled. “I canna’ lift her with my leg and there’s only the two of us left after that mess.”
Lizzy turned and ran.
Mr. Jenkins did his best to get his arms up under Caroline’s own and drag her into the hall. It took both of their best effort, but they got her inside enough to shut the door against the blowing storm.
By the time the door was shut, the maid and the duke were racing back down the hall. Lizzy was still talking a mile a minute.
“She was on the stoop. There’s blood everywhere. We had the doors locked like you said but we heard the banging. I don’t know if Jenkins was supposed to open it, but I’m glad that he did.” The maid skidded to a halt. “Oh my, I still think I may be sick.” Caroline had never heard the maid speak so much. It was clear that she was overwhelmed. The duke, on the other hand, was deadly silent.
“Boil water and get fresh linens, Lizzy,” he ordered when they finally came to stand above her. “Jenkins, heat some food. Anything warm. Can you do that?” The old man nodded.
“Lizzy can bring it up,” the duke continued. “Get yourself a brandy while you are at it.”
“Thank you, your Grace,” the old man ambled off.
The duke shooed Lizzy off and then crouched beside where Caroline was leaning against a potted fern.
“Will it hurt too much if I move you?” he asked. His voice was both incredibly tender and assertive. She recalled that he had likely dealt with hundreds of wounded men in his time, himself not included.
She shook her head. “It’s only my leg.” She rested her hand upon the place below her knee so that he might know that the wound was not higher. Without hesitation he scooped her up and turned toward the staircase. Caroline leaned into the warmth of him. She had never felt so cold in her life and she wanted to bury herself in him. She settled for wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her cheek upon his shoulder instead. Her teeth were chattering.
He did not speak until they entered his room. Caroline could tell from the firm set of his shoulders that he was angry but his concern seemed to be keeping the temper in check. No, she corrected, he always kept his temper in check even when it boiled right below the surface.
He walked straight over to the bed, threw back the covers, and set her down with nary a jar to her aching wound. He then ripped the covers from the bed and deposited them over her upper half.
“I’ll have to inspect the wound.”
Caroline’s instinct had her pulling her legs toward herself and under the blankets but the action had her yelping with pain. She’d never allowed a gentleman to see her legs. It was indecent!
“Come now,” he allowed the break in his stern demeanor to reveal a small quirk of one half of his mouth. “You’ve seen practically all of me.”
“Not all of you!” she argued before she could take it back. Her blush elicited a brow-raised look that said he would dare amend that fault if she did not allow him her leg. Slowly, she inched the limb toward him. Just the one.
He flipped the hem of her skirt up without preamble, all business. She did not know whether to be shocked that he had not eased her into it or grateful that he was approaching the tender flesh with all of the impartiality of a physician.
“Good of you to have tied it off,” he noted. “I’ll have to remove the strap. It cannot be on too long.”
Caroline nodded, and he released the knot just as Lizzy burst into the room. The maid took one look at the pair, her eyes going wide in horror as she glanced down at the bed. She gingerly set the tray with the kettle and linens on the table just within the door before turning around and retching in the hall. The duke shook his head and walked over to retrieve the tray, instructing the maid that she could leave the next delivery in the hall rather than come inside the room. The last thing that Caroline heard before the door closed were Lizzy’s promises to have the hall cleaned and another delivery as soon as the water could be set to boil. Caroline was again surprised by the duke’s unflinching response. She supposed it was a common thing for onlookers to become sick at the sight of blood. Caroline had simply refused to look at her wound in the light. She did not want to know. Instead, she had focused solely on the duke.
He set to work cleaning the wound all the while talking to distract her. Caroline gritted her teeth but answered as best she could.
“Mrs. Reilly told the constable that you took off so that you wouldn’t be caught as the leader of their horrible plan.” His voice was unaffected as if he waited her confirmation or denial but nothing more.
“I did not!” She shrieked when he squeezed the hot water over the wound.
“You are fortunate that it went straight through,” he observed. “You did not do which? Leave or command their band of malefactors?”
“I did neither,” she said through clenched teeth. Her eyes glared darts at him for even suggesting that he believed anything that Mrs. Reilly had said.
“I did not think so,” he nodded and sponged the blood from around the hole as he attempted to get a better look.
“Is that why you were mad?” she asked, her breath hissing out of her at the sting.
He gave her a look that said that he was mad for any number of reasons this evening. “I was furious at first that it might be true,” he admitted, “but when you show up on my doorstep with a bullet wound, I would say that was fair confirmation that you aren’t the enemy.”
