Rebecca

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  “Fortunately for Lady Foxbridge.” Dr. Scott lost his belligerence. He could have compassion for his patient if she was innocent of the crime of trying so sadistically to keep starving men from providing food for their families.

  “Yes,” Nicholas seconded, “fortunately for her. She’s over here.” He liked the brash man who could be no older than himself. “She is unconscious, and it’s obvious that she has been cut by the jaws of the trap which were around her right leg when we found her.”

  He walked to the bed. “Everyone will please leave while I examine her, except you.” He pointed to Collette. “I shall need your help.”

  “Now, see here—” began Nicholas.

  Dr. Scott faced him as he slipped his black coat off. “My lord, please leave. You are delaying her examination. I will report as soon as I know what is causing this problem.”

  The light eyes of the doctor met the anguished eyes of the taller man, and, for once, Nicholas was the first to back down. Signaling to his valet, they went to the door. In the sitting room of the suite, others waited. As the doctor had dismissed him, Nicholas ordered everyone else from the room. He did not want the staff to witness his disintegration into agony.

  Only Eliza ignored his order. Curtis had left Foxbridge Cloister after the search ended. He would come back in the morning when he would not be in the way. She had appreciated his kindness, not being able to guess that the real reason he had left was to spend the evening at the Three Georges buying drinks for his companions.

  She sat on a settee and did not say anything, so Nicholas paid her no mind. She watched as he went to the windows in the wall opposite the fireplace. He opened one and looked out toward the ocean.

  In the extraordinary quiet of the house this evening, Nicholas could hear the far-off sound of the sea which did not cease its motion even though disaster had struck Foxbridge Cloister. He leaned on his elbows and hid his face in his hands. What he had feared had come to pass. He had brought Rebecca to his home only to add more sorrow to her life. He had wanted to give her love, but continued to provide only misery. He wondered if he ever would have a chance to atone for his crime of wanting her too much.

  She must wake again. If she did not … He groaned as his hands fisted against his forehead. She must wake.

  She must.

  Chapter Nine

  “My lord? Lord Foxbridge?”

  Nicholas turned at Collette’s impatient call. “Is the doctor done so soon?” He could not keep from thinking this meant the worst.

  “No, my lord.” She smiled to ease his distress. “It’s Lady Foxbridge. She is awake, and she won’t cooperate until she sees you.”

  He grinned as he stepped through the door. His eyes went to the bed where finally the blue eyes in the peaked face were open. As she met his gaze, he affixed a false scowl on his lips to match the mock anger in his voice. “I hear you are refusing to cooperate with the doctor, Rebecca. This is hardly the time for your Yankee stubbornness.”

  His smile returned as she laughed softly. She winced as the sound hurt her aching skull. “You had better be glad,” she said, in a hoarse whisper, “that I have that thick head you’ve accused me of having. The doctor said I took quite a bump.”

  “Sit over there, Lord Foxbridge,” ordered the doctor, although he was smiling also. “Now, my lady, you have seen your husband. Will you allow me to continue?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. She closed her eyes and sank back into the pillows. If the truth must be known, she felt awful. The last thing she could remember, before awaking moments ago, was the sharp pain pulsating in her right leg. She did not dare to ask what had happened, unsure if she wanted to know.

  Quickly and competently, the doctor cut away her ruined gown. He frowned as he saw the row of toothmarks across her thigh. With the freshly boiled water he had ordered, he washed the dirt and dried blood from the injured area. He saw the lady’s hands grasp the sheets, but she did not utter a sound. Most of his patients screamed during this process. His respect for her increased. He hated having to do what he must next.

  “My lord, I need a bottle of whiskey.” At the shock on the man’s face, he added, “Not for me, but for your lady.”

  Nicholas nodded and sent Collette to fetch it. While they waited for her to return, he went to the other side of the bed. He picked up Rebecca’s clenched fingers. Stroking her forehead, he asked, “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

  She grimaced. “I may not be dancing for a while.”

  The doctor reassured her, “Only for a short time, my lady. It isn’t as serious as it could have been. You were very lucky.”

  “This is lucky? What do you British consider bad luck?”

  Both men laughed at her ironic words. None of Rebecca’s sense of humor had been bruised. Nicholas was pleased, for she would need it in the days of recovery ahead.

  Collette returned with a bottle and a cup. She knew what the doctor intended to do, so she had brought what he needed. Dr. Scott poured a large serving into the cup and handed it to Rebecca. “Drink, my lady.”

  “I don’t drink this,” she said in surprise. “I never have.”

  “All the better. You will need less if you aren’t used to it. It’s to dull the pain, my lady. Perhaps someday we will have something better to help, but for now this is the best I can offer you.” When she hesitated, he ordered again, “Drink it all, but not too fast.”

  The first sip burned all the way to her stomach and brought tears to her eyes. No one laughed as she choked with the bitter taste of the whiskey. She looked into Nicholas’ eyes and saw his pain. His expression told her of the torment he had known as he had searched for her. Taking courage from him, she tried a second drink. As she slowly drained the cup, it no longer seemed to taste so horrible. A warmth from her center enveloped her in a haze that ruffled the edges of her vision. She found it easier to close her eyes and be rocked on the gentle sway of the bed.

  Dr. Scott took the cup from her fingers as she settled deeper into the pillows. He smiled grimly. “She’s right. She must not drink at all, if this small bit of whiskey incapacitates her so quickly. Collette, I need that bottle back. Pour more into the cup in case she needs it. Good. Give me the bottle.”

  Taking a deep breath, he tilted the bottle so that the clear, amber liquid flowed into the deep cuts. As he had expected, the woman came awake with a scream of agony. He swore as her convulsive motion knocked the bottle from his hand. “Hold her down, my lord. I must put salve on these and sew them shut. She must be kept still.”

  “I will do my best.” Nicholas’ face was grey beneath his deeply engrained tan. It hurt him to see her in such anguish. He concentrated on keeping her motionless. Collette helped also. From Rebecca’s lips came mumbles of pain-wracked phrases that made no sense. It seemed forever until the doctor ordered them to release her. Across her badly swollen leg was a swath of medicine and bloodstained bandages.

  The doctor motioned for Nicholas to follow him after ordering the maid to dress Lady Foxbridge in her nightgown. “If possible, don’t move her leg. If you must, move it as little as you can.”

  Eliza came forward as they closed the door to the bedroom. Quickly, Nicholas introduced her to the doctor. Both listened as the doctor spoke of his findings. “As I told her, Lord Foxbridge, she was very lucky. The cuts are deep, but I don’t think there is any permanent damage. She must stay in bed at least a week, more likely two. The swelling in that leg must go down before she puts any weight on it. If she strains it at all, infection might spread through it, and it would mean amputating her leg.”

  “No! Not Rebecca!” cried Eliza. She could not imagine that happening to her sister-in-law.

  “Hush, Eliza,” said Nicholas. “The doctor said that all we must do is keep her in bed. All?” He chuckled, much relieved with Rebecca’s near-miraculous escape from death. “We may have to tie her down to keep her in bed, Dr. Scott, but she will follow your orders. I trust you will be checking her regularly. Of course,
our carriage is available for your convenience for calls here and to help you facilitate calls on your other patients.”

  “That is very gracious of you, Lord Foxbridge. Keep her quiet tonight. It might not be a bad idea if you can get her to drink more whiskey to dull the pain. I can assure you she will be in misery for the next few days.”

  Nicholas asserted, “She will be a very stoic patient. Rebecca is brave about everything. Impatience with her injury is something else altogether, but we will deal with that when we get to it.”

  Dr. Scott rose and picked up his bag. “Very good. I will be back by midmorning at the latest. I have several patients I must check first. By ten, at the latest, I will be back to change the bandages. Don’t touch them before then even if they get blood-soaked. Just slip cloths under her leg if you are worried about the mess.”

  “That doesn’t concern me. All I want is for Rebecca to be well again.” He held out his hand, for the first time noticing the multitude of scratches on the palm. Dried blood had etched a bas-relief design into his skin. Worried for Rebecca, he had ignored the slight pain. He continued to do so. “Thank you for coming so promptly. We will see you in the morning, Dr. Scott.”

  “My pleasure,” he said as he shook the proffered hand. “If I may say so, Lord Foxbridge, both you and your sister should get some rest tonight if possible. It won’t be a short recovery, and you don’t need to get ill also.”

  “I understand.”

  Brody was waiting patiently in the hallway to take the doctor back to the front door. When he saw the smile on Lord Foxbridge’s face, he sighed with relief. As the two men walked away, Nicholas turned to Eliza. “You heard Dr. Scott, sister. Go to bed. I will need your help tomorrow.”

  She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “You rest, too, Nicholas. Let Collette watch Rebecca for a few hours.”

  “Yes,” he lied, “I’ll do that. Good night. Oh, Eliza, you can tell Mother that Rebecca is going to be all right.” Bitterly, he added, “I’m sure she will be overjoyed to hear that.”

  His sister said nothing. Neither could understand Lady Margaret’s continuing enmity toward Rebecca. It was ripping the family apart. Nicholas sided with his wife, and poor Eliza was caught in the middle. She did not want to choose. She liked Rebecca, but she did not want to hurt her mother, whom she loved, by showing that friendship.

  Nicholas went back to the bedroom. Tersely, he told Collette to get something to eat and a few hours’ sleep. He would call her later if he needed her. She did not dare to argue, for no one would convince Lord Foxbridge to leave his lady’s side tonight.

  Sitting on the chair next to the bed, he looked at Rebecca with a critical eye. A lump rose from her forehead where she must have struck the ground. Her hands were scratched from hitting the briars when she had been caught unaware by the trap. It was her injured leg that drew his attention. Collette had cut one of Rebecca’s nightdresses shorter so that the ragged hem was above the line of bandages. The strips of cloth continued to turn a deeper red as the cuts ooozed her lifeblood from her body. The leg was a grotesque copy of the slender one next to it.

  When her eyes opened a slit, her lips tilted in a smile. “Nicholas!”

  “Yes, sweetheart, I am here with you.”

  “Don’t leave me alone this time,” she whispered as her fingers slid over his.

  Shame filled him as her recalled how he had been so angry with her on the Prize that he had left her to recover on her own. That angry, jealous man seemed to be a part of someone else’s life. He could not imagine being away from Rebecca when she needed him. Since those first, hate-filled days, they had learned to care for each other. Perhaps not love, but it was no longer hate.

  He leaned forward to kiss her colorless lips. “I will be here as much as you want, Rebecca. You must be a good patient so you can get better as quickly as possible.”

  When she did not reply, he saw she had drifted away into a sleep which would help cure her weakened body. There was no use being irate that he had not found her when he had gone through the copse earlier. She had been found. No one had had to tell him that to spend the night in the grip of that snare would have been fatal to her.

  As Nicholas had predicted, Rebecca was a model patient for the first few days. She did not complain once of her pain, although her suffering was revealed by the whiteness of her pinched features. When Dr. Scott changed the bandages, she simply closed her eyes and fisted her fingers as she made no sound to show how much it hurt.

  The only time Nicholas left her side was when he had to attend to business which could not be postponed. He had had a pallet brought in so he could sleep on the floor next to her. He did not want her to awaken in the night and be alone. When she had joked about them sharing a room, he had been pleased, for it showed that she was accepting her slow recuperation as well as could be expected.

  The trouble began when the sharpest pains passed, and Rebecca became bored with her confinement. He could offer her books to read and needlework to do, but that soon was not enough. Eliza was the only other one who visited her. Lady Margaret had called once to fulfill her obligation to her injured daughter-in-law, but had not returned. Although Curtis sent his wishes for a quick recovery, it would not have been proper for him to visit when Rebecca was dressed simply in a cut-off nightgown and robe.

  Two weeks after the accident, Nicholas was sitting in the room with her when he threw down his quill onto the dressing table he had been using as a desk. “That’s it!” he shouted, angrily. “I am tired of it, Rebecca! I have heard enough complaints.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Don’t yell at me. I’m tired of it, too. I hate being stuck in this room all the time.”

  He said nothing as he went to her closet. Grabbing one of her dresses, he tossed it on the bed. From the bottom of the cupboard, he pulled a pair of shoes. He put one back with a sigh. Although most of the swelling had left her right leg, her foot would not fit into its shoe. She would have to wear a satin slipper instead. As he drew a pair of stockings and clean lingerie from her dresser, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “It’s Sunday. I thought you might like to go to church.”

  “Church?” she gasped. “I can go out? When did the doctor say that?”

  “Yes, yes, and he told me to delay it as long as possible,” he replied with a smile. “I think if I had heard one more complaint, I would have done something wild like this.”

  He leaned over the bed and pulled her into his arms. Her lips beneath his sent a warm glow of desire through him. Slowly he released her. Even the gentle kisses and touching he wanted to share with her might injure her more, and he would not do anything to risk this sweet lady. Softly, as he stared into her love-glazed eyes, he said, “I will send Collette in to help you dress, sweetheart. While I’m changing, I’ll have Sims bring the carriage around. I shall be back in about ten minutes. Is that time enough?”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. All she wanted now was to bring those delightful lips back over hers. She would be content to stay in this bed if he would share it with her. As he strode out of the room, she was glad he had not been looking at her when that thought came into her head. The longing to be Nicholas’ wife in more than name haunted her, but she must remember the promise that bound her to another man.

  Collette twittered happily as she came into the room. She helped Rebecca get dressed in record time. There was no time for doing her hair, so they simply brushed it back and tied it with a ribbon.

  When Nicholas returned, he smiled as he saw her dressed normally again. “You look lovely, sweetheart.”

  “My hair—”

  “Is perfect.” He winked broadly at Collette as, stooping, he picked Rebecca up from the bed with no sign of strain. The maid ran ahead to open the doors. He went through each carefully. With Collette and Brody’s help, he was able to get downstairs without worrying about missing one of the steps.

  When they stepped out into the sunshine, Rebecca’s smile widened.
Nicholas knew the delight she was feeling, for he had known the same sense of liberation when he had emerged from his wartime prison to see that the sun still shone and the clouds still blew across the sky on the breeze.

  He sat her on the seat and joined her in the lovely vehicle. As soon as Sims had closed the door and had started it down the driveway, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

  “Thank you for what, sweetheart?” he asked as he rubbed her back. It seemed so wonderful to be able to hold her again. If he had lost Rebecca, he was sure he would have lost his mind also. She was becoming as much a part of his life as breathing.

  “For everything,” she answered. “For putting up with me, most of all. This is the second time you have had to help me recover.”

  He laughed. “If we are keeping score, I am willing to let the game be over. I don’t want you hurt so ever again.”

  On the ride into the village, she leaned her head on him and propped up her leg on his which was balanced on the opposite seat. Her own legs were too short to reach the other bench without straining the abused muscles. When the vehicle hit an unavoidable bump, she winced, but did not complain. She was so happy to have escaped her bedroom prison, she was willing to put up with some additional pain.

  As two weeks before, all heads turned as the sexton ran forward. A rumble of whispered asides filled the sanctuary when Lord Foxbridge came into the church with his lady in his arms. He thanked the sexton for opening their pew as if it was the most ordinary thing for them to be attending the services. Although Rebecca could not stand for the hymns, she joined in the singing enthusiastically. Her joy spilled over into her lovely voice.

  Reverend Middleton was as pleased as Rebecca when he came over to the carriage to talk to her before the Wythes went back to Foxbridge Cloister. When he had heard of her terrible accident, he had been miserable. He had called at Foxbridge Cloister, but had been told that Lady Foxbridge could receive no visitors.