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“Rose! Rose!” Dorian skidded to a stop beside her and fell to his knees, scooping her up into his arms as quickly as he could. “Oh, Rose, I should not have gone to investigate. I am so very sorry, my doe. Come, we must get you back to the house. I will have a physician sent for immediately, and I will have Hudson see to you until they arrive.” He sounded utterly beside himself, his face drained of color, as though he were the one losing blood and not Rose.
She smiled at him deliriously. “This is… almost the same… as how we met. Do you… remember?”
“I do, my doe, but you must not fall asleep, as you did then. You must stay conscious, Rose. Listen to my voice and stay with me, do you hear?” Dorian pleaded, but it was too late, for Rose had already slipped into the darkness, her body lolling in his arms.
* * *
Out of his wits with terror for Rose, Dorian carried her back to the estate as fast as he could. Bursting through the kitchens, for that was the nearest entrance, he called to the cooks, assistants, and anyone who would listen.
“One of you take a horse this instant and ride into the village. Fetch the physician here at once!” he ordered, but knew it would not be enough. Blood had soaked through Rose’s skirts and his shirt, and she would soon lose too much to survive. He had seen it upon the battlefield enough times to know the signs: the bluish tinge to the lips, the waxy sheen to the skin, the inability to be roused from unconsciousness.
Undeterred, Dorian carried Rose all the way up the staircase to the first floor and all but broke down Hudson’s door to gain entry. His friend awoke with a start, rubbing his bleary eyes as Dorian crossed the room to the chaise-longue by the window and lay Rose down as carefully as he could.
Sweat dripping from his forehead, Dorian turned to his friend. “I need your surgical skills, Hudson. I know it has been many a year since you have had to perform anything of the sort, but she will die if we wait for the physician. She needs you, Hudson.Ineed you to help her.” His voice trembled as he spoke, for the thought of losing Rose was too much to bear.
Not again… My heart will not be able to overcome it.He hurried for the fresh basin of water that the chambermaids had left in the room earlier that morning, undoubtedly without Hudson’s knowledge.
Grasping for the small pile of flannels that sat beside the basin, he carried everything back over to Rose. He did not even hesitate to lift her skirts so that he might gain access to the injury, though he was cautious about maintaining her dignity in front of Hudson. Hands shaking, he soaked a flannel and set to work, wiping away the blood to try and clean the area. Fortunately, the rapid flow of blood earlier seemed to have eased slightly, and only a slow ooze eked out of the wound.
Hudson padded over, his face an uncharacteristic mask of alarm. “What happened?”
“There was a rider in the meadow where we were watching the sunrise. He waited until I ventured into the woodland to investigate a noise, and then he sought to ride her down. She ran, and he took out a blade and threw it at her leg,” Dorian panted, sick to his stomach at the sight of the handle still sticking out the back of Rose’s otherwise smooth and unmarred thigh.
“Keep mopping the blood away. I need a moment to gather my equipment.” Hudson rushed toward a chest of drawers and took out a rusted tin box and a bottle of brandy. Coming back over, he took over Dorian’s position and knelt at Rose’s side. There, he opened the tin box and took out what appeared to be a large needle and a wiry spool of thread.
“I hope I still know how to do this,” Hudson muttered, as he seamlessly threaded the needle. He took out the brandy stopper and took a swig for himself before he doused the needle in the brownish liquor. Pale with dread, he glanced up at Dorian. “The moment I take out the blade, be ready with those cloths.”
Dorian nodded, wielding the cloths in question.
“Keep the wound as clear of blood as you are able, though it will not be easy.” Hudson turned back to his patient and wrapped his free hand around the blade handle. With one swift tug, he yanked it out and immediately poured half the bottle of brandy onto the injury. More blood began to seep out of the gash, though it came with a manageable sluggishness.
Dorian drew a cloth over the wound, wiping the blood clear before more could emerge. Seizing the opportunity, Hudson began to stitch up the two torn sides of Rose’s flesh. He worked with surprising deftness, using a small pair of scissors to cut the thread after each suture was complete. Then, he would draw his hands away for a moment so Dorian could cleanse the wound, before diving back in for another stitch.
“She has lost a great deal of blood, Captain,” Hudson said quietly, as he finished the last suture
Dorian looked down at his scarlet-soaked shirt. “Too much?”
“Only time will tell. She is stronger than most ladies, so perhaps we will be fortunate.” Hudson twisted around and sank into a sitting position, his back against the chaise. Lifting the half-emptied brandy bottle to his lips, he took a long sip and raised the bottle to Dorian. “You look as though you need this far more than me.”
Dorian sat beside his friend, though he positioned himself sideways, so he could keep watch over Rose. His hand held tight to hers, as though he might be able to pass some of his own life and his strength into her if he just willed it.
“She has to live, Hudson. I thought that, by making her my betrothed, she would be safe from harm. I… cannot be without her, Hudson. I have no desire to continue existing if she does not survive this.”
“I know,” Hudson replied softly. “But we must not sink into thoughts of former misfortune, for that will only make you despair further. First… tell me more about this rider. Did you see their face or any distinguishable details that might be useful in capturing them?”
Dorian shook his head. “He wore a hood and rode a black gelding.”
“Did you hear them say anything?”
Again, Dorian shook his head. “I did not, but… this was no opportunistic attack. They waited for me to leave her side before they struck, I am certain of it. Someone wanted her dead… or they wished to send us both a warning.”
“This is not your fault, Captain. Or hers.” Hudson put his hand on Dorian’s forearm. “We must conjure a list of who may be responsible and proceed from there.”
Dorian looked upon Rose’s deathly pale face and listened closely to the shallow rasp of her labored breath. “I should have seen something like this coming when I kissed her. History had no choice but to repeat itself. That is my punishment for behaving improperly when I am not wed.”
“Enough!” Hudson barked, his eyes suddenly infuriated. “Painful events that happened in your past cannot compel a blade to slice into your fiancée, Captain! These are the actions of a very real person, in the present, and we must find them to prevent future incidents.Thatis how you will protect her. In the meantime, we must pray that she makes it through, for if you give up on her now, then youwillbe her curse, for wallowing in self-pity instead of wishing for her health to be restored.”
Dorian blinked at his friend, startled. “I had not thought of it that way.”
