“All in good time, sir. First, I must tend to the child. Please stand back.”
Her reprimand astonished him. “Well, I say…” Fitzwilliam huffed indignantly, his fists resting on his hips.
“Excuse me, please. There is so much blood. Do you believe the wound is serious?” Alice asked softly. Martha replied while retrieving items from her bag.
“Head wounds generally bleed a good deal, and almost always look worse than they really are, which I suspect is the case here. Amanda, please don’t be frightened of me. I need to clean away the mess in your hair, so we can have a look at your cut, after which we will see what else is to be done. All right?” The little girl nodded but was still trembling, still snuggled closely to her uncle for courage.
“Where is Matthew?” grumbled Fitzwilliam.
Father Ted leaned forward. “Well. There’s a good deal of shrieking going on downstairs,” he offered. “I am fairly certain it’s them.”
“Well go down and tell them to get up here!”
“Me? Alone? You must be mad.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Would someone please go with him?” After a moment Andrew nodded and the brothers slipped out of the room.
Gently blotting the blood from the girl’s face and hair, Martha turned to Lizzy. “Is her mother near? I believe that would be a comfort to her.”
“Never met Clarissa, have you?” As soon as Luke spoke the words his father slapped the back of his head, a not so subtle warning to be quiet. “Ow! You can’t strike me, father, I’m thirty-six years old!”
"Sorry. My hand slipped.”
“Shush!” Lizzy gave them both a hard stare, then all watched in silence as Martha tended to the child.
“Grandpa Will?” Deborah whispered loudly. “Is our Amanda going to die?”
“Oh, darling. Of course not, my love.” Darcy rubbed her shoulder. “She’ll be good as new before you know it.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“You love her a great deal, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Besides, she borrowed my dolly carriage and I’ve no idea what she’s done with it. She better not have broken it!”
Darcy turned to his eldest grandson. “Will, take her somewhere.”
“Yes, sir.” Swooping her up onto his shoulder Will then clapped his hands for the other children. “All right my little band of heathens, shall we go have sweets and allow our Amanda some quiet?”
Bored to tears now the children rallied at the thought of more food and began filing from the room, Stephen urging them all to hurry. “As long as Amanda isn’t going to die soon, may we have more King cake?”
Darcy then turned to the adults, encouraging them to leave as well. It was like herding blind cats. “Please everyone. We should proceed downstairs and wait for the physician to arrive.”
“Darcy has the right of it. Everyone out. Send the leech up the moment he arrives, Darcy.”
“Do it yourself, Fitzwilliam. You’re coming downstairs as well.”
“This is my granddaughter! I am not leaving. You leave.”
“Honestly,” Alice grumbled. “I cannot believe how you two argue like an old married couple.” She and Anne Marie had snuck back into the room and were huddling together on the side, quietly watching Martha, occasionally offering her their expert medical opinions.
“You see, Amanda, it wasn’t that bad,” Kathy called out from the hallway. She, Harry, and George were also slipping back into the room.
“George! I thought I requested everyone wait downstairs.”
“Can’t I’m afraid. There’s a very unpleasant exchange going on down there. Screaming. Crying. A vase was thrown. Shots may have been fired. It’s all rather awkward.”
Kathy tiptoed past Darcy then crouched down beside her niece. “Darling Amanda, you look as pretty as ever.” She took the child’s hand and kissed it. “Now, will someone tell me exactly what happened? I looked away from the stage when, well… I heard a thud and the children began screaming.”
“I have no idea,” said George. “I looked away as well.”
“No one saw anything,” added Harry. “Like you we were all watching Matthew and Clarissa.”
“I did.” Sitting on his father’s lap in the shadows, Ewan’s small voice broke the silence.
Alex kissed his son’s head. “Tell them what happened, lad; and, speak up so they can all hear.”
Ewan nervously twisted the lapel of his father’s coat. “Amanda’s mother began shouting at the servants about our laughing on stage. It was all my fault. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, I just found it so funny, both of us with mustaches. I’m very sorry.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, son. Tell them the rest.”
“Yes, Papa. Well, Henry began to cry at all the shouting, so Birdy ran to comfort him, but Amanda was crying too and she was running after her parents. They both ran into each other very hard – knocked the wind from Birdy and Amanda just disappeared off the stage. Will she be all right?”
Martha smiled and nodded, satisfied that the injury was less severe than she had initially believed, although the child would need stitches. “Yes, she’ll be fine. However, the doctor will be here soon to check on her wound, so we’d best get her up to bed. The children were all to sleep in the nursery tonight, but I should prefer Amanda sleep in my room where I can keep my eye on her. Does that sound all right with you, Amanda?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She looked around for her grandfather. “Grandpa Fitz.”
“Yes, my darling.”
“Will you tell Mama and Papa where I am. I don’t want them to worry about me.”
“Certainly, my love.” Fitzwilliam’s smile was strained, directly after I kill them both. “Whatever you wish.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Believe me, I’ll be speaking with them.”
Martha gathered the bloody cloths, handing them over to the maid. “Shall I carry you, Amanda; or, would you prefer to remain with your uncle?”
“Uncle Mark, if that’s all right. Are you able to carry me, Uncle Mark?” Having been through so much these past weeks, the poor dear wasn’t taking any chances with strangers.
“Naturally,” Mark said, then wondered just how he would do that without the use of his cane.
“Nonsense, you can barely walk yourself. What if you reinjure yourself?” Fitzwilliam huffed, “I’ll do it.”
Mary Margaret pressed him back. “Father, not with your bad heart. Beth and I can assist. Will that be all right with you, Amanda? I do believe we are her favorite relatives anyway, are we not Mary Elizabeth?”
“Indeed we are, Mary Margaret, I have heard us say that to her very often.”
Amanda giggled, her tears nearly dry. “Yes, please.”
Luke and George came forward then to help Mark stand, the child still in his arms, her head bandaged. “Mary Margaret, Mary Elizabeth, if you could each tickle one of her feet…” As he hoped Amanda squealed and began to laugh out loud. With his sisters at his sides supporting both him and their niece, the foursome lurched forward, looking rather comical as they made their way from the room, Mark occasionally stumbling on purpose to get another squeal from Amanda, and a reprimand from his sisters.
“Mark.” Bunny, exasperated by this point, was reaching for his arm. “Mark. Look at you. We are obligated to attend the opera this evening – remember? Those acquaintances of ours went to great lengths to secure the box near to the Royal family tier. You cannot go looking like this. Perhaps you can borrow a fresh shirt from Mr. Durand? Mark? Mark!”
Elizabeth gracefully diverted her attention. “You have plenty of time, dear. Not to worry. Why don’t we give them a moment to settle the child. Come, sit with me and tell me all about this lovely dress.”
Chapter 35
She hurried to her room, last door down the long corridor, ran to her bed and pulled back the covers. Martha looked about quickly, emotions in turmoil. He’s coming to my room. Mark is coming into my room! She spun around, s
earching for anything in view that could be embarrassing to her, grabbing a stocking and a frayed corset to be mended.
She spied the book she’d dropped when summoned and replaced it on her nightstand. The title jumped off the page. ‘Disease, Death and Medication, Before and After Smallpox’. Martha groaned. Not that, anything but that – I must have another book somewhere in here, something more feminine. Ah, here; what is this? ‘Clinical Memoirs on Abdominal Tumours and Intumescence’. Good heavens, I am a boring person. Then she saw the one she wanted, Jane Eyre, and pulled it from the box of books she’d brought with her. An unlikely tale of a lowly governess and the wounded nobleman, not that she was trying to imply anything. Hopefully there wasn’t a mad wife hidden somewhere in his house, although after meeting his family it wouldn’t surprise her. It was a silly book anyway, not one she would normally read; however, she wanted him to see her as female, not just the woman who had nursed him.
There. Now, everything looked neat as a pin – somewhat unusual for her but he needn’t know that. When she lit another lamp in a darkened corner, she spied something else… a pair of lace trimmed cotton drawers laying across a chair, and she dove for them just as Mark and his sisters entered, carrying his niece.
He looked at her oddly, then raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Blushing to her hairline she leaned back and stuffed the undergarment into the chair cushion.
“Shall I settle her in this bed?”
“Oh, of course, yes. Here allow me to help you.”
Mark set the girl down and Martha began untying her boots and fixing the pillows.
As she worked, he watched her, astonished that his prayers had been answered. She was actually here – she was real, she was alive and not lost to him, and they were in her room, in his beloved angel’s feminine, delicate room. Lovely. Just as she was. The only thing off putting was the insipid Bronte book on her night table. The things women read...
“If you’ll stay with Amanda until the doctor arrives, Mark, I think Beth and I should go down and see to Papa. He was looking a little flushed with all the excitement.”
“Of course – by the way, please send up a footman with my cane, if you would.”
The Mary’s kissed their niece good night, then their brother, after which they were off, chattering away.
Then all was silence.
“This is a charming room,” he volunteered finally.
“Thank you. It’s very small.”
“But the view is absolutely beautiful.”
Amanda, who had been keeping her eyes closed against the pain, opened one. What’s this? Something in his tone of voice had the child looking from her uncle to the pretty nanny, then back again. It seemed as if they’d forgotten all about her. Interesting. Not only was the lady pretty, but she was also blushing – her cheeks red as cherries against her pale skin – with Uncle Mark staring at her as if she was a box of candies.
“Well, um, do you know where the child’s things are for overnight?” Martha spoke directly to the wall behind Mark, but he didn’t answer. He just kept staring.
“Mama didn’t bring anything for me to wear. She didn’t wish me to stay.” Finally, Uncle Mark and the pretty nanny seemed to remember she was in the room.
“What did you say, dear?”
“Uncle Mark, I said that Mama didn’t allow me to bring anything for overnight. She was planning on my returning home. I don’t feel very well though, my head hurts, and I’d rather sleep here with the others.”
Martha felt the child’s forehead. “It’s just as well you remain, we have no idea when the doctor will arrive, and I cannot allow you to leave without being seen by him. I am certain Miss Roberta will have a nightdress that would fit. Give me a moment to find one.” Without another word she slipped silently from the room.
“Uncle Mark, you won’t leave me, will you? You’ll stay until Papa comes to kiss me good night? Papa always kisses me good night. He will tonight, won’t he?”
“Of course, and I will be here as long as you wish.”
“Good. Have I made Mama and Papa very angry?”
He sighed. “Child, whatever disagreement is between your mother and father it has nothing to do with you. They both love you very much. You know that.”
The little girl nodded and smiled, her eyes beginning to grow heavy. “Do you know, I think Miss Martha likes you, Uncle Mark. Isn’t she absolutely beautiful?”
“Behave yourself, young lady.” He cleared his throat. “But, as long as you brought the subject up, why do you think that?”
“She has wonderful eyes, and a very pretty mouth, and her hair is shiny, and –”
“Not that. I mean, why do you think she likes me?”
“Women just know these things, Uncle Mark.” Yawning widely, she drifted off to sleep even as she spoke.
“Good lord.”
A few moments later Martha returned to the room. “Here I am. I’ve found a very nice gown for you. Oh.”
Mark put a finger up to his lips. “Too late. I believe she’s fallen asleep.”
“Poor dear. Well, I still will need to remove her costume before the doctor arrives. Hopefully, she’ll sleep through.”
Mark turned away for a moment as Martha undressed his niece, slipped the nightdress on her, then pulled up the covers. “There, we’ll let her sleep until the doctor arrives.” When he looked back Martha was very busy not paying attention to him, dimming the lamp, tucking in the covers, fidgeting with the nightstand, the water glass, the small dish of candies, untucking the covers again; all the while not noticing Mark had come around the bed and was now standing behind her.
“I remember everything now, you know,” he whispered, and she gasped. “The four days, the Christmas tree, the wonderful talks. You saved my life from that lunatic doctor.”
She spun about. Mark was so close she could feel his warm breath on her face. “Nonsense, I was merely doing my job. Excuse me, sir.” Turning sideways she squeezed past him on her way to the other side of the bed.
What in bloody hell? Mark crossed his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t allow her to freeze him out like this. He needed answers. He remembered a warm, compassionate, loving woman – not a piece of ice – and he’d be damned if she’d treat him otherwise.
“You fed me! You wiped my chin and we laughed.”
“A nurse has many duties, sir. Nourishment, wound care, administration of medicine, cleanliness…”
“You sang to me.”
“Are you certain? Cruelty is not normally in my nature, sir.”
“Yes, well, you kissed me well enough! Nearly swallowed my tongue!”
“I did not! Besides, you kissed me first!”
Mark grinned. “All right! Now I know I’ve the right woman.”
“Hush! The child.”
He lowered his voice again. “Admit it. We kissed. Nearly melted the sheet between us. And, if the damn doctor hadn’t arrived that day we’d have done more!”
“No. You… you misremember.” Her voice was fading, not so crisp now, not so composed. “You were delirious, that’s all.”
“Really. It was merely the drugs?”
She nodded without looking up, repositioning the already perfect blanket and counterpane.
“There is only one way to be absolutely certain, though, isn’t there?”
“Really? And, what would that be?”
Mark came toward her until she was backed against the wall, touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Just as I remember; skin so soft, so perfect. You have the most beautiful eyes too. I’ve never seen eyes that color, like blue silver. With your black lashes they just mesmerize. And your mouth…” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “My God, a mouth like this is why men lose their senses.”
Martha blinked rapidly, forgetting to breathe, not hearing a word. She had gone brain dead the moment he touched her. When he slowly covered her mouth with his, pulled her into his arms, she offered no resistance. Her own arms slid
instantly, eagerly, possessively, around his waist, around his back, the kiss deepened. Tongues danced.
“You do such wickedly amazing things to my body, woman,” he whispered before he wrapped her in his arms again and lost all reason.
“Calm yourself, Matthew. I believe they’ve brought Amanda to the nanny’s room.”
With the sound of Ted’s voice Mark emerged from his erotic haze, he then heard people running down the hall. “Damnation,” he growled as they pulled apart, just a breath of space between them. She was trembling. They were both trembling.
He stepped away just before the door burst open.
Clarissa hurried in first, already shouting at Mark. “How dare you bring my daughter into a servant’s room. I insist she be brought immediately to a more suitable location.” Matthew went directly to his daughter’s bedside. “Amanda?” His voice was gruff with concern. He heard a soft, baby snore. “What is that sound she’s making? Why doesn’t she answer me? What’s happened to her head? Someone bring her clothes to me immediately!” He began to pull back the covers. “I’m taking her home.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind!” Martha’s firm command, along with a strong yank on his arm, stopped him. “I will not permit this child to be moved until she’s been seen by a physician.”
“What did you say?” Matthew couldn’t believe the cheek.
“I think you understood perfectly me well. The child shall not be bothered until she’s been seen by the physician. After he examines her, he will decide if she’s to be moved or not. Now, drop that bedsheet, sir, you are wrinkling the linen! Thank you.”
“And just who in bloody hell are you?”
“That is enough. Keep a civil tongue in your mouth, Matt.” Mark’s warning stare surprised his brother, but not half as much as when Mark stepped between the two, as if to protect the impudent servant.
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