Chapter 19 Ambushed #2
Cooper spoke then. “The boy claims Lord Stafford was shot by accident. He was aiming for Manvers, but Stafford altered his course and was almost struck.”
The batman turned to the Colonel, bewildered. “Why did he fire at you, sir?”
Richard answered. “An accident. I saw movement in the woods and dismounted. I crept closer and found the boy with his musket, watching the carriages pass. I took him for nothing more than a lad out hunting for the day. He is very young.”
His voice tightened.
“I called out. He started, stepped back, and tripped. He fired as he went down. I saw the horror on his face as he scrambled up and fled. He was on his horse before I could even raise the alarm.”
He turned then to Lady Harrington.
“What say you, my lady? You say you know him well.”
“If he survives his injury and agrees to leave England, then let him go. He has done my family a kindness, yet he did plan to murder a man. I do not wish him near Abigail again.”
Darcy turned to Richard. “Well, cousin?”
“Let it be as Lady Harrington says.”
Meanwhile, Lady Abigail reached the fallen man and fell to the ground beside him, tears streaming down her face. Lady Anise fell at his other side, also weeping.
“Oh, Giles, what have you done? You have been shot. Oh, Giles, why did you do this?”
She buried her head against his chest.
The coachman spoke sharply. “My Lady, you will cause him more pain. Be careful. He is wounded.”
Lady Abigail lifted her head and looked at her friend. “How do you feel?”
His eyes were shut tight, his teeth clenched. When he did not answer, she turned anxiously to the coachman. “Is he bleeding to death?”
“No, my lady. The bleeding has stopped.”
Lady Abigail gazed down at the fallen man. “Do you hear that, Giles? It is not a serious injury. You will live.”
Her voice broke. “But what will they do to you?”
She began to weep again, but Lady Anise caught her arm. “Stop, Abigail. Giles will live, and Mother loves him too. She will stand by him, and together we shall see that he is not simply given up to the law.”
That evening, Cooper attended both the Colonel and his attacker. He removed the bullets, cleansed the open wounds, and stitched them.
In the morning, the Stanhope women and the two cousins removed to Hadden Hall. Cooper remained behind with the wounded boy. When they arrived, Lady Helen was seated in the drawing room. She rushed to her son when she saw he was heavily bandaged, but Richard reassured her.
“Mamma, pray do not look so. It is a trifling wound. The roughness of the roads has caused it to bleed anew, but I am well.”
His mother blanched. “Bleeding? What has befallen you, Richard?”
“We found the man who shot at Phillip, and he has been dealt with. I was wounded in the fray, but it is not serious.”
“Richard,” she cried, “You have been shot?”
Darcy said, “Aunt Helen. It is a minor injury. Richard will recover soon.”
“Mamma, I have brought you three guests. The Dowager Countess of Harrington and her two daughters will remain with us for a time. They have been shown to their rooms.”
He then asked, “How is my brother?”
Lady Helen sighed.
“The military surgeon has been attending him. He said Phillip was in a shocking state of dehydration, and we are trying to restore him. The surgeon believes his unresponsiveness may now be due to dehydration.”
Richard’s brows lifted. “So, there is hope?”
“Yes. And if we could but get sufficient fluids into your brother, he may yet come around.”
Richard leaned back against the sofa, the strain plain upon his face.
Darcy intervened. “Aunt Helen, I will take my cousin to his room and will have him examined by the surgeon.”
The two men left the room and began to ascend the stairs. Darcy said, “Richard, you look ready to faint.”
“I feel like hell,” Richard muttered, “Help me to my room before I fall.”
When they reached his bedchamber, Phillip’s valet helped Darcy undress Richard and settle him into bed. The surgeon then examined the wound.
“Colonel, there is nothing at present to give concern. Your batman did an excellent job. I imagine he has had practice.”
Richard managed a grin. “Only once before on me, sir. But he has worked often enough among the wounded on the battlefield.”
“He is very skilled; you were fortunate to have him attend you. We shall let you sleep now. Are you able to eat?”
“Yes, have them send up a tray, and I need water.”
The surgeon turned to Darcy. “Would you like to visit your other cousin?”
“Yes, sir, if you allow it.”
Darcy was unprepared for the change in Phillip, who seemed almost shriveled, his face drawn and hollow, as though illness had stolen the life from him.
“Do not be so taken aback, Mr. Darcy. There is little amiss with your cousin beyond severe dehydration and a stubborn concussion.”
“Is there nothing more we can do for his condition?” Darcy asked.
“Lady Helen sits with him for hours, spooning liquid to his lips, but most of it drips away before it ever enters his mouth.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Would a toddy lifter be of any use, Doctor?”
The surgeon considered the suggestion. “I believe it would indeed prove useful.”
Darcy rang for the servants. When he returned to the bedside, he asked quietly, “Is my cousin paralyzed?”
“No. Lord Stafford moves his limbs. He begins to turn onto his side. I expect he will awaken soon and may only require more fluids.”
He looked grave. “A man may die of dehydration, Mr. Darcy. I only pray we have caught it in time.”
When the servant appeared, Darcy asked for a toddy lifter and then turned to the surgeon.
“Will my cousin suffer any lasting disability from the injury to his head?”
“It is too early to say. Only time will tell. But he is young, and the body can mend itself from injuries far worse than this. I have seen it with my own eyes.”
The servant returned with two toddy lifters upon a tray, and Lady Helen followed close behind.
The surgeon filled the glass device partway, then slid the spout gently into the pocket of Phillip’s inner cheek. The device allowed several drops to be distilled at a time, without spillage.
Lady Helen’s eyes filled with hope. “Oh, my son. Perhaps he will yet have a chance at recovery. I have been unable to get much tea into him.”
Darcy turned to her. “Aunt, you go and rest. I will remain with Phillip and offer him his tea.”
Darcy tended to his cousin for the next several hours, while his mind strayed to London and to the woman he had left behind.
He wondered whether Georgiana had invited Elizabeth to Darcy House for tea.
It had been a great pleasure to have her beneath his roof, to see her in his drawing room and seated at his table.
He had taken particular pleasure when Georgiana led her to the family wing to display her sketches.
In that moment, he could almost imagine her established in his mother’s former apartments, the mistress’s chambers that adjoined his own.
He perceived, then, that his dearest wish was to have her always beside him, in London and at Pemberley alike.
But what of Uncle Henry? Were he to present Elizabeth as his intended bride, Uncle Henry would oppose the match, for he was a proud man.
And then there was Lady Catherine, who would raise an outcry and perhaps wage a campaign of gossip against such a connection.
But neither Phillip nor Richard would object to his choice, for they did not subscribe to the rigid notions so firmly held by the older generation.
When Miles, Phillip’s valet, arrived to take his turn, Darcy instructed him in the use of the toddy lifter and retired to his own room, knowing full well that Miss Elizabeth could never be his wife.