Chapter 25 #2
Running his hands lightly over her body, he felt around for any broken limbs or blood. Was she still breathing? He put an ear to her lips and felt her breath tickle him ever so slightly. She was alive, but unconscious. It wasn’t until he was brushing her hair over her shoulder that she groaned.
Her eyes didn’t open but it encouraged him to be careful. He soon found the blood behind her ear. It wasn’t still bleeding from what he could tell, but he knew how fragile a head injury could be for someone.
Glancing back, he noted some large stones on the edge of the path. One of them looked darker in the rain than the others. His stomach clenched and he pulled Isla close in his arms.
“Isla? Isla, it’s going to be all right,” Ronan told her as he tried to reassure himself of the same. “I’m going to take care of you, do you hear? You will be well. You will. Just keep breathing for me.”
He cradled her tight in his arms, somehow managing to get them both into the saddle. It was a difficult race back to the stables that he hardly recalled. But they did it. He did it.
“Good lord!” Two stable boys were by the backdoor when he arrived, having led the horses all the way there. “What happened?”
Ronan didn’t care to entertain them. “Find the nearest physician. Now! Where is Hobbes?” He hollered on his way inside.
The butler was right there in the hall, his face pale and eyes wide open as Ronan hurried in. “Oh dear.” But Hobbes was there for him in every crisis. “Her maid is up in her chamber now. We’ll fetch more linens and heating pans, and I shall meet you there, Your Grace.”
“Then go!” He shouted.
As Hobbes went one way, Ronan took the other. Isla had yet to wake. How serious her injury was, he couldn’t say. It was all he could think about. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his way through the closed door of her bed chamber, ignoring the gasp of her maid.
There was movement all over the place. Chambermaids had followed him, bringing in more wood to heat up the room. More linens. A tea set. Anything they might need and everything else, too.
He finally took a deep breath before gently setting Isla down on the bed, her body limp and fragile in his arms. His eyes roamed over her figure before returning to her face––he had to be certain she still breathed.
Faintly. But she lived still.
“Your Grace?” Her maid queried weakly. “We must disrobe her at once to help with the chill.”
“Very well.” Down on one knee, he worked opposite of the maid while he removed Isla’s boots and stockings.
He kept her modesty in tack for the most part, only looking up to her knees to her toes in search of any more bruising.
There was swelling to her right knee that he hadn’t noticed previously, and Doreen’s gasp had him looking up to find a matching bruise on Isla’s shoulder.
He swore deeply. “She must have fallen hard. There is bleeding behind her ear as well.”
One of the maids hurried over with a tonic and bandage. Isla’s lady maid snatched everything up quickly––better it was her, Ronan realized as he looked down to find his hands shaking.
“Your Grace. Come with me, we can’t have you in the way. Besides, you’re frightfully wet yourself,” Hobbes murmured in a calming tone as he tugged Ronan back to his feet and to the doorway.
He had no choice but to follow until they reached the hall. Ronan couldn’t take his eyes off her. From this angle, he could only see her slim arm peeking from the many blankets. And then that too was taken from him as she was swallowed up behind the care of four maids.
“No,” came a quiet whine. It took a moment for Ronan to register the voice. “I want her. This mama stays. I don’t want her in heaven.”
A staggered breath escaped him as he turned, finding little Oliver with his big wet eyes staring into the room as well. Anne was whispering, trying to nudge him away. Oliver gripped the doorframe with both hands. He too couldn’t take his eyes off the large bed where Isla lay.
“I want mama,” he whined again, his voice breaking loudly in the tension.
“Shhh, please,” Anne was trying to gently lead him away.
The pain in Oliver’s voice was too familiar to Ronan. He forced himself to turn from Isla, bending down to collect his nephew in his arms. The boy resisted at first before finally collapsing, hiccupping, and clinging to Ronan.
“She’s not going anywhere,” Ronan promised him.
He clung just as tight, telling himself to be brave.
They would not lose anyone else. Already they had lost his sister.
Neither of them would survive losing Isla, he believed.
They needed her. “She’s strong, isn’t she?
Strong and… and clever. She’s going to be fine.
All will be well, Oliver. You will see.”
Murmuring soft words of hopeful promises, he took to pacing up and down the hall. Someone tried to close the door, but Ronan made sure it stayed open. Eventually, Anne gave them distance. Hobbes remained nearby to direct the household as necessary.
The physician finally came. Only John Lambert could convince Ronan to give them some privacy in the next room. It was torture, however, being left in the dark.
He carried Oliver until the boy fell asleep. Anne returned, ready to help whenever Ronan was done with him. But he was too distracted to pay any mind to his tiring arms. He couldn’t do anything, not until Lambert finally cracked the door open and gave him a nod.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Ronan demanded.
“It means,” Lambert told him, “that the duchess will be all right from what I can see. There is some nasty bruising that caused some swelling. It should go away in a day or two.”
Ronan peered over his head to try and see into the room. “What about her head? There was blood.”
“A small injury we shall keep an eye on. It is fair to worry, but I am hopeful. She’s a strong lady who suffered a nasty shock.
So long as she rests and nothing worsens, she’ll be right as rain within a few weeks.
She will be fine,” he repeated when Ronan’s expression didn’t change. “Would you like to see her?”
Desperation and doubt warred within him. “Can I?”
“Certainly. I’ve offered her a few remedies, all of which she’s refused. They will help her should she wish to rest more deeply; I shall leave them behind in case she changes her mind.”
It took a second for Ronan to realize what all this meant. “You spoke with her?”
“Yes, yes. She’s awake.” Lambert sidestepped into the hall before adding, “You can see her if you like.”
Surprise left him frozen where he stood for a long moment. After warring with himself, Ronan managed to nod. He needed to see for himself that Isla was well. After a deep breath, he entered the room.