“I’ll be far away by tomorrow morning. They’ll never find me.” He grinned at Alastair. “They will find the three of you though, floating.” Weering laughed as he turned. “Kill them and throw them overboard.” As soon as he finished, one of the men surrounding them screamed and staggered forward before falling face down. A small blade was buried between his shoulder blades. Men started spinning and scattering.
Alastair ran at the man closest to him and dropped his shoulder, crashing into his chest, knocking the wind from him as they collided. Alastair rose on his knees and pulled back. His fist drove into the man’s face and his head slammed against the planks. His eyes rolled and Alastair ducked as he heard a pistol fire.
Alastair spotted Gilles as he kicked an attacker in the stomach, sending him flying. He ducked as another man swung clumsily. Gilles delivered several blows to his opponent’s ribs before his fist connected with his jaw and he fell back. Lucien was wrestling with a beast of a man that had managed to get behind him. He had Lucien’s arms pinned behind his back and Alastair was about to make his way over when Lucien jumped and swung his head back, stunning the man as his skull crushed his nose. He let go and Lucien spun and launched himself at him. They fell to the deck and Lucien’s fists swiftly pummeled the brute’s face. As soon as his opponent was limp and still, Lucien staggered to his feet and looked around. A man yelled as he ran at him. Lucien looked out of breath as he raised his gun and fired at the man, dropping him a few paces away.
Just as he turned, Alastair saw Giselle fly through the air and tackle a man as he fired his pistol. The bullet went wide, missing Alastair by inches. Two men dove on top of Giselle and he ran toward her. Weering stepped in his way, his pistol raised at Alastair’s face.
“Don’t move.” Weering warned. Alastair stepped back but kept his eyes on the scuffle behind Weering. Once they were able to subdue Giselle, the men rose and pushed her forward. “What do we have here?” Weering asked as he pulled Giselle close. His eyes flared and he looked at Alastair in shock.
“Let her go.” Alastair growled. “You let her go now.” His body had grown cold and was tense. He could barely hear over the pounding of his heart. Gilles stepped close, his pistols trained on Weering and the man to his left. Lucien had his remaining pistol trained on the man to Giselle’s right.
“I don’t think so, Spencer. I think she’s going to help me escape.” His hand reached behind her and pulled the pistol from her waistband and threw it to the side. Giselle cursed as she stomped on Weering’s foot and tried to pull her arm free. He yelled as he hopped but held on to her arm. “That’s enough, whore!” Weering hissed as he pulled her close and pressed his pistol to her head.
“No!” Gilles yelled and tensed to move but Lucien grabbed him. Alastair’s heart stopped and his limbs became numb. He felt heat wash over his body and his clothes started to cling.
“Lower your gun now.” Alastair ordered. He felt rage and panic boiling within him and his body started to shake. Giselle’s eyes found his and they were calm. It’s over. He shook his head and swallowed as bile crept up his throat. “I swear to you, Weering, if you don’t let her go…”
Men started to recover and gain their feet. Alastair’s eyes scanned the deck quickly and he cursed silently. They had enough men to set sail. They’d be slowed by the damage to the ship but they could still get away. Weering laughed as he pulled Giselle against him.
“You’ll do nothing but get off my ship, Spencer.” He jeered as his hand slid around her waist. Giselle swallowed and her eyes flared for a moment. Alastair clenched his jaw to keep from roaring. Her eyes stilled and stared into his. Goodbye. He felt Gilles’ hand close around his arm and he tried to pull him back. Alastair shook his head wildly. He couldn’t leave her. He knew that as soon as Weering reached the sea, he would kill her and throw her over. Her eyes held his and he knew she was willing him to get off the ship. Alastair refused to consider that as an option.
His mind started rushing through scenarios and there was only one that ended with the four of them getting off the ship. He didn’t like it but he would die before he abandoned her. Alastair prayed as he slowly raised the pistol in his hand.
“What are you doing Spencer? I’ll shoot her.” Weering hissed.
“Grab your knives.” Alastair whispered. Gilles and Lucien dropped to the deck as Alastair leveled the pistol, aiming it at Giselle and pulled the trigger. He tensed as bright light and pain ripped though his head when the muzzle flared and a loud crack filled the air. The musket ball ripped through Giselle’s shoulder and her and Weering flew backwards onto the deck.
“Alastair! What did you do?” Gilles screamed as he fired at the men before them. Lucien threw his knife and it hit its target in the chest.
Alastair threw his pistol as he ran for Giselle. He dropped to his knees as she rolled and grabbed the pistol from Weering’s hand. She raised it in Alastair’s direction and he froze. There was a flare as she pulled the trigger and he was paralyzed as the pain streaked through his skull. For a moment, he thought she’d shot him before he realized it was the concussion from the gun firing. A body fell to his left and he turned to Giselle. She tried to rise to her feet but her arm failed her and she fell back onto the planks.
The deck exploded with gunfire and bodies. Alastair dove for Giselle and covered her with his body. He heard Digby yelling as runners overtook the crew. A moment later, everything was quiet and Alastair lifted himself from Giselle. She was writhing and clutching at her shoulder. Her teeth were clenched and she breathed rapidly through her nose. Alastair felt his gut twist and fought the wave of nausea and dizziness that tried to pull him under.
“I’m so sorry!” He whispered as he carefully helped her sit up. Her eyes were wide and frantic but she nodded as she grabbed his hand with her good arm.
“It’s alright. You saved my life.” Giselle gasped. She looked over at Weering. Blood drained from his mouth and the large hole in the center of his chest. As Alastair had intended, the ball passed through her shoulder and because of her height, hit Weering in the center of the chest. He had considered aiming for Weering’s face but he didn’t trust the pistol to be accurate enough, that close to Giselle’s head. Gilles slid next to them and groaned when he saw Giselle’s shoulder. She smiled at him weakly. “I’m fine.” She said softly. Gilles turned to Alastair, his eyes were large.
“You could have killed her!” He whispered. Alastair nodded grimly.
“We have to get her out of here. Now.” Alastair scooped Giselle into his arms and tried to close his ears to her moans as he carried her down the gangplank. Gilles and Lucien rushed ahead of him to have the carriage ready. Digby ran after him.
“I’ll have my men take care of everything and I’ll report to you in the morning.” He said when he caught up. Alastair shook his head.
“I don’t give a damn. It’s over.” He nodded to Gilles as he opened the carriage door. Digby protested.
“I still have to get your account and you’ll probably have questions. You always have questions.” He looked to Gilles and Lucien.
“The day after tomorrow. We need to take care of the lady first.” Gilles stated. Digby nodded.
“About the lady…” Digby looked to Alastair. He glared.
“I don’t care what the crew tells you. The lady wasn’t involved in the fight, do you understand?” His voice was hard. Digby nodded slowly.
“What was she doing here?” He asked cautiously.
“Weering attempted to abduct her. We rescued her but she was injured during the fight.” Lucien declared. Alastair nodded in agreement as Gilles climbed into the carriage.
“That is all you will record.” He said as he carefully handed Giselle to Gilles and ducked into the carriage. “Get in or I’m leaving you, Lucien.” He called as he pulled Giselle into his lap. She whimpered as she pressed her face into his chest and pain burst within him. As soon as Lucien sat, Gilles beat on the roof and the carriage lurched forward.
“I’m so, so sorry.” Alastair whispered as he pressed his lips into her hair. He shut his eyes and repeated it over and over as he held her. She was rigid in his arms and her hand clutched at his coat and shirt desperately. “God, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t let him take you.” His eyes stung as she moaned.
“For God’s sake, stop saying you’re sorry.” Giselle said weakly. “You had to do it.”
Lucien and Gilles were staring at them, both shocked and silent. Alastair searched their faces for understanding. Lucien frowned and shook his head slowly.
“I don’t know how you did it. I know why, but I don’t think I could have done it.” He whispered. Gilles leaned forward and let his head hang as his hand reached for Giselle. He squeezed her arm gently.
“You’re done. No more after this, Giselle.” His voice was hoarse. She nodded against Alastair. He felt tears soak his shirt and he clasped her head to him.
“Sshh… We’re almost there.” He said softly as he felt the carriage turn. “Just a few minutes more.” She pushed against him and her eyes were shattered.
“I’m scared, Alastair.” Her voice was almost gone and she was pale. Her lips were trembling as she stared up at him. He cradled her face.
“I’ll take care of you. It’s going to hurt but I can clean and bind the wound.” Alastair searched her eyes, they started to look heavy. She was starting to lose consciousness. It was probably for the better if she wasn’t awake. She shook her head.
“I’m pregnant. I don’t want to lose the baby.” She moaned weakly and her eyes rolled before she went limp. Alastair’s vision blurred and he swayed. He couldn’t feel or hear his heart and it felt as if the carriage was tilting.
“Oh, Jesus!” Gilles’ voice was muffled and distant. Alastair attempted to lift his head to look at him and blinked, trying to focus.
“You have to take her.” Alastair slurred as he rested his head against the cushion behind him and tried to breath. His chest wouldn’t expand and it felt as if there were hands around his throat. He felt Giselle lifted away from him and he tugged at his cravat but his fingers fumbled. Nausea rolled over him and he tasted bile.
“Did you know?” Lucien asked softly. Alastair shook his head violently and had to grind his teeth to stop the rush of burning fluid that tore at his throat. The carriage rocked to a halt and Lucien pushed the door open and jumped out. Alastair swallowed as he pulled air into his lungs.
“Get her inside and have everything ready.” Alastair’s voice was thick and unsteady. As soon as Gille’s handed Giselle into Lucien’s arms and jumped out, Alastair stumbled out and reached for the back of the carriage and bent over as his stomach started to squeeze and pain shot up his throat. He felt his chest lock as hot, bitter liquid spilled over his tongue. He coughed painfully as wave after wave of acid heat poured from his mouth.
“Mon garçon!” Maman called from behind him. Alastair shook his head and raised his arm, holding her off. He gasped for air and felt his head clear.
“Help her!” He commanded. He spit, trying to get as much of the taste out of his mouth as he could. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and stood. The ground rolled beneath him and he held on to the carriage until it stopped. He breathed again and carefully stepped toward the house. A footman ran forward and offered to help but he waved him off.
By the time he stepped into the hall, he felt focused and steady. He ran up the stairs and pushed through the crowd of servants outside Giselle’s room. Inside, the room was a storm of activity. Servants rushed with supplies as The Mothers worked over her. Maman was cutting Giselle’s shirt open as Madeline washed her face with a damp cloth. Gilles was pacing as he barked orders.
Alastair shrugged out of his coat and started unbuttoning his sleeves. He looked to Gilles as he rolled them.
“Did someone go for a doctor?” He asked. Gilles nodded.
“I sent for Granville.” Gilles said flatly. The Mothers looked up in shock. Granville specialized in pregnancy and childbirth. Alastair nodded as he started looking over the items arranged on the table by the bed as he washed his hands. He finally let his eyes scan Giselle as he approached the bed. She was pale and her skin looked clammy but her chest rose and fell steadily.
“I need more light.” Alastair announced as he looked up. The Mothers were frozen, their eyes were large as they stared at his arms. He looked down and frowned as he saw the head and claws of a dragon crawling out from under the rolled cuff of his sleeve. His eyes flicked to Maman’s. She blinked rapidly before she looked up at him.
“We will discuss this later.” She whispered shakily. Alastair nodded and reached for a sponge as more candles were placed by the bed. He took a deep breath and leaned over the jagged, gaping hole in Giselle’s shoulder.
After a quarter of an hour, Alastair stood up and stretched his neck. His body was drenched in sweat and his hands shook but he was satisfied that he’d cleared any debris from the wound and nothing critical was damaged. He shook his head gently. She may not be able to use her arm but aside from that, nothing more critical was damaged. He prayed she’d forgive him. Alastair used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he reached for the bottle of scotch and the door burst open.
“You shot her?” Mirabelle yelled and Lucien swept in and shut the door. Alastair looked up and felt the room sway.
“I can’t right now, Mirabelle. Either help me or get out.” He said as he pulled the cork.
“What do you need me to do?” She asked as she stood next to him. He looked at her and waited for his voice to work.
“Hold her down. This is going to hurt like hell.” His voice rasped and he felt the nausea returning. Mirabelle was pale as she nodded. She sat on the edge of the bed and placed one hand on Giselle’s shoulder above the wound and gripped her arm. Madeline grabbed Giselle’s other hand and squeezed her eyes shut as Maman took hold of her arm and rested her forehead against the mattress and prayed. Alastair took a deep breath and braced himself as he started pouring.
Giselle’s eyes snapped open as she gasped for breath and threw her head back. Her body arched against the bed and she screamed as she tried to pull free. Her scream ripped through Alastair and he staggered back from the bed. He stumbled toward the dresser and grabbed the basin, pulling it to his chest as he slid to the floor. His chest heaved as another wave of molten acid exploded from him. He clung to the bowl as he fought off the dizziness that tried to overtake him. Mirabelle called to him and he tried to make his eyes find her.
“Is it done?” She asked. He nodded weakly before he felt another spasm squeezing his chest. The door opened again and Granville rushed in.
“What the hell is this?” He yelled. Alastair was grateful when Gilles walked in and addressed the doctor.
“Lady St. Claire was the victim of an attempted abduction this evening. She was injured when we rescued her.” His voice was clear and commanding. Granville looked around the room and nodded. He stepped to the bed and started examining Giselle. She was moaning and shifting restlessly. Alastair focused on the rhythm of her breathing and was comforted by how strong it sounded. He saw that Granville was applying the dressing and he started to relax. He didn’t think he could look at her shoulder any more.
“It looks as good as can be expected. I don’t think there’s anything else I could have done.” Granville said as he looked at Gilles and then at the bed. “I’m not sure why you even sent for me.” Granville looked at Gilles expectantly. Gilles’ eyes flicked to Alastair. He sighed as he pushed his hands through his hair.
“Lady St. Claire is pregnant.” Alastair’s voice broke and he felt tears fill his eyes.
“Mon petite!” Maman cried as she reached for Giselle.
Alastair looked up as Mirabelle fell to the floor next to him. Her hand closed about his and squeezed gently.
“Oh, Alastair.” She whispered. Granville frowned as he looked back at the bed.
“Most of you should leave while I examine the patient.”
He said softly.
“Do you want me to stay?” Mirabelle whispered. Alastair nodded. He had never been so scared or grateful for his sister.
Everyone else cleared the room and Alastair remained on the floor with Mirabelle while Granville and Jane attended to Giselle. After several minutes, Granville stood up and turned to Alastair.
“Everything looks good for now.” His voice was low and gentle. Alastair remained tense as he waited for Granville to continue. “There’s still a chance she could lose the baby but if she hasn’t already, I think there’s a good chance she won’t. But we’ll just have to wait.” Alastair searched his face and felt reassured. “She needs to rest, I’d like her to stay in bed for the next two weeks and avoid anything strenuous. You should try to help her remain calm and encourage her to eat well.” Granville washed his hands and started to gather his belongings. “I’ll be back in a few days to check on Lady St. Claire.” With that, he left.
Chapter 61
Alastair remained on the floor with Mirabelle and watched as Giselle was carefully bathed and changed. When The Mothers were confidant she was as comfortable as possible they began pushing everyone from the room.
“I think I’ll go, you probably want to be alone with her.” Mirabelle whispered. Alastair raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Thank you.” He let her see his gratitude as he squeezed her hand. She nodded as she rose to her feet.
“I’ll be downstairs, if you need anything.” She kissed his cheek before she stood up straight. Mirabelle stopped by the bed and leaned over Giselle. “Please, be alright.” She begged softly as she gently kissed her forehead. Giselle’s lips curved and she nodded weakly. Mirabelle caressed her hand as she stood and then left the room.
“Let us know if you need us.” Maman whispered at the door. Alastair nodded as he watched it shut, leaving him alone with Giselle.
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