Her body swayed alarmingly once they managed to get her to her feet. His arm wrapped itself around her before he had even formed the thought to do so. He pulled her tight against his body to support her.
They didn’t make it very far before she needed to rest. She leaned her head upon his shoulder. They stood in silence, waiting for her to catch her breath. He was worried the men would return to finish her off and he wanted to get away from here as quickly as possible. Her breath warmed the skin exposed above his collar. She wouldn’t be able to walk another hundred yards let alone all the way to his sister’s house.
She looked at him just then and smiled. She straightened up and started walking. Her endurance amazed him, but after another two stops he decided to take matters into his own hands. Philip leaned over and caught her beneath the knees and with his arm clasped tightly about her shoulders, lifted her into his arms. He would carry her the rest of the way.
It took them ages but they managed to make it to the other side of Hyde Park, to the residence he shared with his sister. The sun was lighting the sky by the time they made it up the steps. The relief he felt when the door was opened by his sister’s butler Charles, dressed immaculately in his blue coat, white breeches, stockings and powdered wig, despite the early hour, and at not being seen by anyone, was unsurpassed. The surprise on the butler’s face was also unmatched by anything he had seen cross his expression before and, if it hadn’t been for the lady he was supporting in his arms, he would have laughed outright.
“Don’t just stand there, Charles, shut the door, we don’t want the whole neighbourhood to be privy to our goings-on, now do we?”
“Very well, sir.” Charles hastily closed his gaping mouth before closing the front door. “How can I be of assistance, my lord?”
“Please inform your mistress she is needed in the drawing room.” Philip moved to the entrance of the room and just before he shut the door added, “And Charles, send for a doctor as well.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Chapter 4
Mrs Hillary Barrett wasn’t usually up at this hour, but cook had been experimenting with spice from the Middle East this week and it wasn’t agreeing with her stomach. Last week she experimented with Chinese. Needless to say, Mrs Barrett found herself not only awake, but sitting in her front parlour with a cup of tea to calm her stomach just as the sun was creeping across the houses to greet the day. And since she had nothing to occupy her except her needlework, which she never enjoyed doing anyway, she found herself gazing out the window. And it was with this gazing, that she found herself privy to one of the juiciest gossip tidbits of the season.
Lord Eaglestone strolled down the street, which admittedly, if Mrs Barrett was regularly up at this hour, she would know was not a thing to remark upon, but it was the fact he was carrying a lady that was most notable.
The woman he carried was bedraggled in appearance but, although her clothes were askew, there was no mistaking that she was a lady of quality.
Mrs Barrett herself assumed the lady must have come to some harm and she was rising from her seat to offer assistance when Lord Eaglestone dropped a kiss on the top of the lady’s head before he mounted the steps of his sister’s home.
A gasp tore from her lips. That woman was not in need of help except from a priest. Mrs Barrett understood at once the meaning of her bedraggled appearance. The woman had come to no harm, at least not physically; morally yes, but it was obvious if Lord Eaglestone was kissing her with such reverence, the woman in question was no lady.
“What are you looking at now, dear wife?” Mrs Hillary Barrett’s fingers twitched the curtains of her parlour closed before she turned to her husband of twenty years. He knew her too well for her to pretend she was bird watching. Although in a way, she was. He stood in the doorway fully clothed and ready for the day. He was always up this early, although she never understood why.
“Lord Eaglestone is at it again! This time he’s bringing one of his paramours into his sister’s house! I for one refuse to put up with such blatant disregard to proper behaviour. First thing this afternoon, I will call on Lady Cressanda to offer her my support in this time of what is surely a trial. Imagine, having that woman in your house. Being flaunted right in front of your nose. Shocking, that’s what it is.” Hillary paused a moment and when her husband refrained from commenting, she turned in his direction. He had sat down in his favourite chair and picked up a newspaper. A paper! When she was in the middle of telling him something very important, “Albert, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, dear.” His eyes didn’t leave the newspaper but he raised his eyebrows and Hillary was once again assured of his attention.
“I must go and tell cook to prepare some nice biscuits I can take as an offering.” Hillary bustled out the door, not seeing her husband roll his eyes before returning to his paper.
Chapter 5
Harriet took in her surroundings. The house was elegant, with exquisite furnishings. Neither the décor nor the house made her uncomfortable or made her feel out of place, so she could only assume she, too, was accustomed to this sort of luxury. She couldn’t remember. She had hoped on the way to Lord Eaglestone’s residence that a memory would be jogged and she would know who she was, but nothing. It was as though there was a gaping black hole in her head…at least it wasn’t a bullet hole. Where had that thought come from? Why would she think about bullets? She could see the shape in her mind and an image of a gun, black and sleek, flashed in her memory, the smell of gunpowder in the air so real, she scanned the room for the source.
She shook her head slightly to clear it…or fill it up, she wasn’t quite sure which. She found the sights and sounds of London slightly familiar, as though she had been here before, but she had the impression something wasn’t quite as it should be. She wasn’t familiar with the area Lord Eaglestone lived in, but she wasn’t sure if that was because she couldn’t remember or, worse yet, she wasn’t from here. If she wasn’t from the area, how was she supposed to find her way back to where she had come from?
***
Philip looked at the lady propped on the blue patterned chaise longue in his sister’s drawing room. The lady insisted she would be fine sitting, but the colour was completely drained from her face; little wonder, as her blood was still oozing from her head. Her eyelids looked heavy as though she was trying hard to keep them open and he had a sudden compulsion to keep her awake. He was scared if she closed her eyes she would never open them again. He ignored the sudden clenching in his chest at the thought and forced himself to speak casually as though all was well.
“I’m sure my sister will be down directly. She wouldn’t have missed the commotion when we arrived.”
“Hmm?” Her eyes flickered closed.
Philip hastened to the chaise and sat beside her, indecently so; the cushions dipped where he sat and her body sagged towards him. Their thighs touched, sending heat straight to his groin, surprising him that he could have lustful thoughts about a half-dead lady with blood running down her face. He was immediately disgusted at himself and shifted his body away from her. It was no good, the weight of him far outmatched hers and her body followed his into the crevasse he created on the couch.
“Are you able to remember anything yet, my dear?” Philip turned his head to speak to her. He ended up talking into her hair, as she let her head fall upon his shoulder.
She opened her eyes, or at least the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and blinked at him in confusion. Her mouth opened but no words came out, so he repeated his question.
“No, I don’t know who I am.” She dropped her head back onto his shoulder and her good eye shut once more.
“Please stay awake,” he begged quietly, touching her face gently with his fingers.
The words had scarcely left his lips when his sister swept into the room in one of her best morning dresses; she was obviously here to make a point. Philip groaned.
“What is the meaning of this, Philip? How da
re you bring one of your doxies into my house! You’re in my drawing room, for heaven’s sake…with the door closed!”
“Cres…Cressandra, let me explain.” Philip shouldn’t have been surprised at his sister’s reaction, but he was.
“Don’t you dare even try. Get her out of here this instant and you, dear brother, can go as well. I’ll have Charles pack your things and send them to wherever you find yourself. You have caused enough damage to our family this year without visiting this kind of scandal upon it as well.”
Before Philip had a chance to redeem himself, Charles knocked on the door, “Dr Brown is here, my lord, should I send him in?”
“Of course, Charles, see him through immediately, she’s not looking too well and she won’t open her eyes.” Philip shook the woman gently but her head just lolled on her neck. Her eyes stayed closed. “Please hurry,” he whispered.
At the startled sound that came from beside the door, Philip looked up in time to see his sister become aware of the state the woman in his arms was in. Her indignation deflated before his eyes.
“What’s happened?” She took a few steps towards them but seemed unsure what to do and stopped halfway across the room.
“She fell.” Before Cressandra could ask any more questions, a man strode purposefully into the room, Charles following at his heels. Philip knew Charles would be mortified the doctor entered the room without being properly announced, but Philip didn’t have time to care about the aging butler’s sensibilities.
“Where’s the patient?” Dr Brown was a tall man with a bushy moustache and a large smile. If he happened to have a beard as well and dressed in red, one would be forgiven for thinking he was none other than Father Christmas. The only problem with that being was he was actually fairly young, mid-thirties perhaps, and possessed not a single grey hair. But his cheeks were rosy and his belly protruded merrily beneath his clothing.
“What has happened to the poor dear?” Cressandra asked again. “Why is she covered in blood? Is she dead?” She took another tentative step closer.
Philip ignored his sister and addressed the doctor. “I would prefer for you to hear the whole story in order to help her as best you can, but before I start, you should begin examining her. She had a very nasty fall off a horse and a blow to the head. She was unconscious when I reached her, but woke up fairly quickly. It is only now she has fallen back to sleep.”
“And when did this occur?” Dr Brown asked while he felt for a pulse on her wrist.
“I was on my way home just before daylight when I came upon them.”
“Them?” Dr Brown looked up from his patient.
“There were three others. They caused this.” Philip waved his hand at the woman, indicating the injuries she had received.
“Where are they now?”
Philip shrugged.
The doctor quickly undid the buttons of her pelisse and eased it off her shoulders and down her arms. “Do you know her name?” Brown asked, not looking up from his task.
Philip shook his head. “Only that her Christian name is Harriet. She was unable to recall the others.”
Dr Brown paused in his ministrations and examined her dress. “This is most odd. Miss, come closer please,” he called to Cressandra. “I would like you to have a look at this garment.” The doctor lifted a piece of white fabric that was sewn to the top underside of the pelisse to show her. “Are you familiar with these? It appears to be a label of some kind.”
Cressandra stepped closer and leaned in, her thigh pressing against the doctor’s back as he knelt on the floor before his patient. She peered cautiously around his shoulder at the label he was holding for her inspection.
“No, doctor, my modiste uses nothing such as that. Perhaps some of the others label their creations. I could ask around if you would so desire.”
Cressandra looked at her brother, but Philip shook his head. He didn’t need society’s curiosity piqued in his direction. Not any more than it already was.
Cressandra stepped back from the doctor. Philip glanced back at his sister and saw she was wringing her hands in distress, a sure sign she was soon to faint. “Cressandra, see if you can get Mrs Johnson to bring some warm water and towels. This lady is still bleeding.”
“Of course, Philip.” She turned and strode from the room. She would be better with something to do.
“You had better start your tale, my lord.” Dr Brown looked closely at Harriet. He gently forced her good eye open and passed a candle back and forth in front of her face. “You can start now, my lord.”
“Of course, of course. Um, I was just, um, gathering my thoughts.” Philip tore his eyes from the swell of her breasts peeking at him from under the rip in the front of her dress. He shouldn’t be looking at her bare skin, not with her like this. He tore his eyes away, took a deep breath, and started from the beginning. “I was walking home through the park when I saw four riders…”
Chapter 6
“My lord?”
Philip looked up from the papers on his desk, not that he was able to concentrate on them with an unconscious woman in the guest bedroom upstairs; a woman who at this very moment seemed to be dying. The fact that she hadn’t regained consciousness since this morning was not encouraging at all. Dr Brown had called in several times through the course of the day and each time he left, his demeanour was more sullen than the last. Philip was not looking forward to the long, sleepless night ahead. He should go to bed early but he had a suspicion he would spend the night in the chair next to her bed. If she was going to die, he’d be damned if she’d do it all alone.
“Yes, Charles? What is it?”
The butler walked into the room cautiously as though he would rather be anywhere else than standing at his master’s doorway. “Mrs Johnson and Rebecca found these on the lady’s person when they prepared her for bed.” Charles held out a packet and gingerly placed it on top of Philip’s desk. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s covered in blood.”
“I see.” And he did, the parchment was soaked through and the writing on the outside was almost illegible. “Why was it not brought to my attention earlier, Charles?”
“They found them only an hour ago, my lord, and were unsure what course of action to take, but since it appears the lady may not last the night, we thought it best to deliver them to you straight away.” Charles uncharacteristically wrung his hands together before he noticed what he was doing and quickly shoved them behind his back to reclaim his proper butler posture.
“What do you mean, they only found them an hour ago? Wasn’t she removed of her clothing this morning for her examination by Dr Brown?”
“Yes, my lord, indeed she was but it was only while Mrs Johnson was disposing of her garments that she noticed something sewn into the corset. She of course immediately, carefully retrieved the packet, but was then unsure what course of action to take.”
“So you already said, Charles. It is very unlike you to repeat yourself.” Philip leaned the chair back until it balanced on the back legs, and he propped his feet onto his desk. “It’s a mystery to me as to why it took Mrs Johnson so long to turn the packet over to me. I am the head of this household, am I not, Charles?”
“Yes, my lord,” Charles mumbled.
“And as such, I should be made aware of everything of importance under my roof and finding a secret, blood-covered packet sewn into a dying woman’s undergarments is of great importance.” Philip swung his feet off his desk and let his chair fall forward with a thump. “Don’t you think so, Charles?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So tell me again why Mrs Johnson refrained from coming to me directly after finding this packet?” He swept his hand before the bloody lump on his desk.
“I am afraid I don’t know, sir.”
Philip let out his breath in a great huff. “Very well, Charles, that will be all.”
The butler bowed and quickly left the room.
He knew he should bring his staff to toe the line. He didn’t
enjoy torturing them and clearly Charles couldn’t read Mrs Johnson’s mind. Philip would bring the matter up with her tomorrow. Right now he had to see to his guest.
Philip stared at the sodden paper for a moment before working up the courage to pick it up. It was her blood that soiled the paper. He knew she bled from her injuries, but to hold the evidence in his hand was something else entirely.
He turned the paper over to examine the seal. There wasn’t one. He turned the packet over again, but there was no seal anywhere. There was something holding it together and he could only assume it wasn’t all the blood. It would’ve been sealed with something when it was placed in her clothing.
He ran his fingers over the paper. There. There was an edge near the top. He worked his fingernail under the edge and worked the packet open. He peered inside. The blood had seeped into the papers enfolded in the wrapping as well. He cautiously shook them out, careful not to tear the damp pages. He unfolded them and spread them out on his desk. Where there wasn’t a seal on the outer packet there was one on the bottom of each page. A silver disk shone up through the blood.
It was unfamiliar. A bear stood menacingly on its hind legs but held a flower in its right paw. Philip took a piece of paper and placed it over one of the disks to make a rub with some charcoal, so that he could remember it exactly if he needed to. Considering that a woman was shot at carrying these papers, he had a strong suspicion he would need all the clues he could get.
As he placed the charcoal to the paper, his office door opened again, this time without a knock.
“Dr Brown. Is everything all right?”
“I found a bullet hole. While initially I agreed that we should keep as much information that may upset the lady from her, now I believe we will have to tell her all that you know. She will be sure to notice a hole in her side. Did your butler bring you the packet?”
Damsel in Distress? Page 2