Steam & Sorcery

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  “George, attack!” Wink pointed at one of her two attackers and kicked the legs out from under the other in a move so swift, Caroline barely saw it. George’s bronze jaws clamped down on a leg as he pulled one man away from his mistress, and that man emitted a howl of pain while he used a small object to beat at George’s metallic head.

  Nell elbowed one of her opponents in the solar plexus, and then kneed the other in the groin. Both men swore, but both had moved to limit damage and neither was disabled. Caroline reached them and brought her umbrella down on the head of the nearest man, mangling the flimsy wire ribs and cracking the oaken shaft. If she were going to use it as a weapon, she’d need a much sturdier instrument.

  Still, the man wavered, allowing Nell to get in a head butt, knocking him to the earth. Both girls clearly knew how to fight, and Caroline had studied enough tactics to keep her from the mercies of her employers. George had already rendered one man unconscious, and was closing in on a second. As soon as they realized they were losing, the biggest bruiser threw the unconscious man over his shoulder, and they fled just as Caroline heard the shouts of Jamie, Piers and Debbins, the coachman, approaching. The sound of hoofbeats racing away obviated any thought of having Debbins pursue them. Besides, he only carried one single-shot pistol. Pity, that.

  “Anybody hurt, miss?”

  Caroline spent a moment to be certain the girls were bruised and shaken but otherwise unharmed. One of the thugs had gotten a few blows in on Nell, causing a knot at her temple and a sore shoulder. It looked as if Wink was liable to have a black eye to go with her scraped hands and twisted ankle from the steel wire the thugs had stretched across the walking path and anchored with a small hand winch on each side. Caroline herself was hopeful that her wrist was merely wrenched rather than sprained and she seemed to have taken a blow to the ribcage, leaving her slightly short of breath.

  “Miss Caro, you’re bleeding!” Nell tugged on Caroline’s sleeve. Sure enough, the blow to her waist had done more than dent the stays of her corset. The gray serge of her bodice showed a slit perhaps two inches wide, and the fabric around it was slowly turning black.

  “Bloody hell.” Caroline hadn’t even noticed one of the men had a knife. “I never even felt it. Thank heavens George chased that one off.” And thank heavens this was one of her old frocks, as it was clearly ruined.

  Caroline found herself being herded toward the carriage along with Wink and Nell. Without asking for permission, Debbins started for home, and no one complained. All thoughts of a picnic had been completely forgotten.

  “Miss Caro, please, let’s get you seen to before you bleed out on the nursery floor. I’ve no mind to clean that up.”

  “I’m fine,” Caroline insisted to Sally for what felt like the thirtieth time. “I can tend myself once the girls are taken care of.” In the adjacent bathing room, Becky worked on cleaning Nell’s cuts and scratches. Wink sat in the nursery rocking chair, with Caroline at a stool, Wink’s swollen ankle across Caroline’s knees. She poked the inflamed joint, wondering whether it required a surgeon, but after a moment, she shook her head. Keeping her hands on the injury, she wondered if it would make any difference, if she really did possess some kind of ability to heal. “Sally, it’s just wrenched. Please fetch me something to wrap it with.”

  Wink snorted. “Told you so.” Given the pain the girl had to be in, Caroline was in no mood to correct her manners.

  “I’ll wrap it, miss.” Sally knelt beside Caroline’s stool with a roll of linen bandage. “Then can we take care of that cut? You’re still bleeding, and your face has gone awful pale.”

  Before Caroline could protest further—her head did seem to be a little on the fuzzy side—Sir Merrick himself strode into the nursery. “Miss Bristol, what the bloody hell is going on here?” So much for last night when he’d called her Caro. “Debbins tells me you were attacked by footpads in Regent’s Park.”

  “Then you’ve just answered your own question.” Lord, she sounded like an eight-year-old, even to herself. She drew in as deep a breath as her dented corset would allow and spoke carefully. “We’re all a bit battered, but there were no serious injuries, thank heavens. No—thank George, and whoever taught these girls how to defend themselves. There were four of them. Four.”

  “Let’s see that ankle, then.” He squatted down, probed a little, and nodded for Sally to finish wrapping it. Using one gentle finger, he tipped back Wink’s chin and grinned. “That shiner’s going to be a beaut. Good thing I scheduled the photographer for later this week rather than tomorrow. Is that the worst of it?”

  “I believe so. Nell has a lump on her head, but her pupils aren’t dilated and she isn’t dizzy.” Caroline’s world was beginning to fuzz around the edges again. What was that about a photographer? She couldn’t be bothered to ask.

  “Miss Caro’s been cut.” Sally tipped her chin defiantly when Caroline scowled at her. “She won’t let us see to ’er till the girls are dealt with. Her wrist is swellin’ up right nice, too.”

  “Caro?” He turned his critical gaze on her. “Damn, woman, you are pale. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I’m fine. It’s only a small cut and a twisted wrist.” Though both were starting to throb rather mercilessly. “Where are Piers and Jamie?” Though she was glad they weren’t complicating matters in the nursery right now, she wasn’t at all comfortable having them out of her sight.

  “Debbins and the grooms are teaching them to curry a horse. They’re well guarded and happy as clams—whatever that means. Now sit still for a moment. I’ll be right back.” He stood and strode over to the open door of the lavatory. “Nell, how are you feeling?”

  “Right buggered that they got away, sir,” the younger girl replied. “The burly one landed a punch on my shoulder, but it’ll just be a bruise.”

  His expression softened. “Good. And good on you girls, both of you, for taking care of yourselves. Now let Becky and Sally finish cleaning you up, while I see to Miss Caro.”

  “Sir Merrick that’s hardly—ack!” Before Caroline could say “proper,” he’d scooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the door.

  “I’m told I owe you a new umbrella,” he said as he carried her through to her own room. “Apparently the girls weren’t the only ones defending themselves. My thanks for protecting them.” Instead of carrying her through to the bathing room as she’d expected, he laid her atop the coverlet of her bed. Pulling a spring-loaded knife from the pocket of his frock coat, he calmly flicked out the blade and enlarged the slit in her bodice until he could peel it back to reveal her corset cover.

  “Sir Merrick, please.” She couldn’t lie here and let him undress her. “I’m not bleeding to death, I promise. There must be a female servant who can help me out of my stays?”

  “Hold still. I don’t want to accidentally add to your wounds.” He utterly ignored her plea for modesty, cutting through her plain cotton corset cover and peeling it back as well. Her corset itself had front hooks allowing her to dress without assistance, so that he just opened it with nimble fingers rather than cutting further and having to deal with the stays. Once she was down to her muslin shift, he used the knife again, slitting it horizontally this time, so he could reveal her ribcage while leaving her breasts covered, if only in the thin fabric. Again, she thanked heaven it was one of her old, sturdy ones, and not one of the new, practically transparent undergarments Dorothy had purchased for her. Still, she lay with her arms crossed over her chest. His touch soothed, making the pain just a little more tolerable.

  Finally, he had her skin bared. His hands were amazingly gentle as he examined the wound. “This should be stitched. It’s still bleeding, albeit sluggishly.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll clean it up, put a bandage on it, and I’ll be fine. My corset will hold the gauze in place quite nicely.” Though it would also hurt like hell, having bone or metal stays pressing on the wound.

  Merrick raised one eyebrow. “You really are delusional, are
n’t you? You won’t be getting dressed for a day or two at the least.” He walked over to the speaking tube in the corner—something Caroline had never dared use. “Somebody send for Mr. Wallace, please. And if Mrs. Granger could please come up to Miss Bristol’s room, with the medical kit and some ice, her assistance would be appreciated.”

  “Thank you.” Though what that devout lady would think when she came in and saw Caroline stripped nearly bare, Caroline had no idea.

  “Now hold still while we put some pressure on that until the surgeon arrives.” He ducked into the bathroom and came back with a small linen towel which he folded into a pad, perhaps three inches square. “Which is your undamaged wrist?”

  “Right.” Why did she sound so weak and tired? This is ridiculous—buck up, girl.

  “Then hold this in place with as much pressure as you can manage with your right hand, while I take a look at your left.” He laid her hand over the linen pad, pushing down firmly to show her what to do. Next, he sat on the edge of the bed and laid her sore arm across his lap.

  “The swelling isn’t too bad—doesn’t look broken.” He rotated her hand to find the extent of her mobility and nodded. “Just a mild sprain, but we’ll need to wrap it for a day or two.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway before Caroline could say anything—not that she had any idea what to say. Mrs. Granger bustled in with a basket under one arm and an ice bag in the other.

  “We’ll be fine now, Sir Merrick,” the housekeeper said bluntly. “Run along and send Mr. Wallace up when he arrives.”

  “I’ll wait.” He sat in the chair in the corner, as if defying either woman to argue with him. “She needs the ice on her right wrist.”

  “I can see that.” The older woman shook her gray head, a few frizzy curls having escaped her cap. “You’ve also left the poor girl practically bare.” She pulled a frayed blue shawl from the bedpost and draped it over Caroline’s upper body. Finally, Mrs. Granger laid the ice pack alongside Caroline’s hip, with her wrist resting on the blessed coolness.

  For the first time since the attack, Caroline let herself close her eyes. The children were being taken care of. The surgeon was on his way to stitch her up. Perhaps the world wouldn’t end if she fell asleep for a moment or two.

  She woke when another man entered her room. “Seems the more people you get in this house, the more business for me, eh, Sir Merrick?”

  Caroline opened her eyes to see a gray-haired man with bristly mutton-chops smiling down at her. “Had a bit of a dust-up, did we?”

  “Knife wound in the ribs, sprained left wrist.”

  At the sound of his voice, Caroline let her gaze drift to the corner of the room where Merrick still sat in the room’s single easy chair, while Mrs. Granger sat beside the bed on the small chair from the writing desk, still pressing down on the bandage.

  “Yes, he’s always this bossy, even when he’s the patient,” the surgeon said, his gray-blue eyes twinkling. “I’m going to go wash the travel dust from my hands, then I’ll be right back to look at that cut. Mrs. Granger, if you could fetch me a basin of water and some cloths?”

  “Of course, Mr. Wallace. I have the lye soap you prefer as well.” The housekeeper relinquished her position, bustling from the room as the surgeon ducked into the bathroom, bar of soap in hand.

  When he returned, he sat by the bed and carefully lifted the pad. “Ah, not too bad. The wound isn’t deep. Your stays blunted the worst of it.” Accepting a wet cloth from Mrs. Granger when she returned, he began to carefully clean away the blood. “Still, Sir Merrick is right—it could use a stitch or two.”

  “Very well.”

  “I do have ether, or I can give you some laudanum first, so you won’t feel it.” He checked her pupils. “Do you have any head injuries? There’s no obvious sign of concussion.”

  “A mild headache, but nothing serious. And I’d rather you didn’t sedate me if that’s all right. Some medications make me ill. I can hold still while you set the stitches. I’ve done it before.”

  “Ah, you do fit right in around here, don’t you?” He chuckled as he began to thread a curved needle. “Very well. Sir Merrick and Mrs. Granger should certainly be able to hold you down if the need arises.”

  She did keep her eyes averted as he packed the cut with a foul-smelling salve, then she gripped the bedclothes tightly with her good hand as she felt the first sting of the needle. Merrick appeared beside her and gathered her hand into his bigger one. “Squeeze as hard as you like.”

  It was the first time they’d touched while neither wore gloves, and the feel of his rough skin was a marvelous distraction from the pain of being sewn back together. Unable to help herself, she gazed into his eyes as she clamped down hard on his hand. If she heard a slight huff of disapproval from Mrs. Granger, who stood with one hand on Caroline’s other shoulder, she ignored it.

  It seemed only a moment later that the task was done. The surgeon swabbed the entire area with iodine, then asked Sir Merrick and Mrs. Granger to help her sit, so he could wrap her torso in bandages. Once that was done, he disappeared into the lavatory again and returned to examine her wrist.

  “Keep it wrapped for a few days, but it’s a very minor sprain.” Using yet another roll of linen, he wrapped it tightly, then looked into her eyes, his kindly expression turning stern. “Now, I imagine you’ll want a bath, but you need to keep those stitches dry. One of the maids can help you with a sponge bath, and into some nightclothes. Then I want you off your feet for the rest of today and preferably most of tomorrow, though you can sit up in a chair if it’s comfortable. You lost a good bit of blood and will need some time to regain your strength.”

  Caroline opened her mouth to argue, but a sharp glance from Merrick stopped her protest. “She’ll be taken care of, Mr. Wallace. You can count on it. Now, if you’ve another moment or two, I’d like you to look in on the girls.” He led the surgeon from the room with a look at Mrs. Granger. “You’ll assist Miss Bristol?”

  “Yes, Sir Merrick.” As soon as the men left the room, she turned to Caroline. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then.”

  Caroline sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her head swam at first, but only a little. Still, she didn’t reject the other woman’s help on the way into the bathing room, or in removing what was left of her clothes.

  “I’ll send up a tray with your luncheon,” Mrs. Granger said once Caroline was washed and dressed in a clean nightgown. “You leave Sally and Becky to deal with the children.”

  “Yes, ma’am. And thank you.”

  With a crisp nod and a grunt that might have been approval or disgust, Mrs. Granger left the room. Caroline stared at the closed door. She wasn’t sleepy. Her book and embroidery were both in the nursery. What was she supposed to do now?

  Ten minutes later, Becky arrived with a tray full of oxtail soup, fresh bread and butter, and a pitcher of milk. While Caroline ate, she quizzed the maid on the children, relieved to discover that the surgeon had concurred with Caroline and Merrick’s diagnoses. Both Nell and Wink were to rest for today, and Nell was to keep off her ankle for a week or so. Now Mr. Wallace was checking up on Jamie’s broken arm. Before she took the tray away, Becky happily fetched Caroline’s things from the nursery and left both doors open so Caroline only had to call out if she needed anything. She couldn’t remember ever being so coddled.

  Warm and well fed, if sore, she settled back against the pillows and lost herself in the pages of Jane Eyre, one of her favorite gothic novels. This time through, though, Caroline couldn’t help mentally chiding the protagonist. Silly governess, falling in love with her employer—and a married one at that. Nonetheless, whenever Caroline pictured Mr. Rochester, he bore a strong resemblance to a certain brown-eyed baronet.

  She’d gotten so caught up in the novel that she didn’t hear anyone enter her room. When Merrick cleared his throat loudly from the foot of her bed, Caroline started and dropped the book in her lap.

  “Aren’t
you supposed to be resting?” One lock of dark hair had fallen over his forehead and she had the most dreadful urge to brush it back.

  “I am,” she assured him wryly. “Honestly, I don’t feel ill at all. I’m only lying here because I don’t want to undo Mr. Wallace’s hard work.”

  “Good. Then if you’re up to it, I want you to tell me everything you can remember about the attack—don’t leave out any detail, no matter how seemingly insignificant.” He folded himself into the small desk chair that still rested right next to the bed.

  Caroline sat up straighter against her pillows and angled her body to face him more directly. Slowly, carefully, she recounted the events from the time they left the zoo until they’d returned to Hadrian House.

  “One of the reasons I brought all five children here to live,” he said softly, “was that I believed them to be in danger. Is it possible that this was a planned attack on the girls specifically, or did it feel more random? I believe you have reliable instincts, Caro, and I’m asking you to use them.”

  “I’ve been assuming it was random.” Still, she thought back, carefully reliving the ambush. “But it might have been intentional. Once we split off and headed to the Botanic Gardens, it would have been obvious we’d take that same path back to the coach. Our hour or so in the garden would have given them plenty of time to rig the trip wire.”

  “It could.” He nodded thoughtfully. “The boys stayed out in the open, reducing their vulnerability. Also, the girls and George might seem the larger threat. If I’m correct, our villains know very well that Wink, at least, is a force to be reckoned with. And George. But they miscalculated Nell’s abilities and your own—for which I’m grateful.”

  “I never thought I’d be glad for having had cause to learn self-defense.” Her laugh was shaky, but she managed to keep her voice from cracking. “I do wish you’d mentioned the possibility of danger. We’ve been outside nearly every day.”