Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
Jane awoke to a soft scratching.
Mice?
Rats?
The light under the door did little to cut through the darkness of the room. She searched for any sign of movement.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scrape.
A pinhole of light appeared in the trapdoor’s keyhole. Then vanished.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Someone was trying to work the lock.
Jane sat up watching both doors.
Crash.
That sound came from the outer room.
Francis threw open the connecting door, a knife in her hand. She rushed Jane at the same time someone lifted the trapdoor. Francis pushed the door back down with her foot. “They are coming in here too!”
Men fought beyond the door. No one answered Francis’s call. She jumped on the trapdoor to keep it closed, ignoring Jane for a moment.
Without asking, ‘what George would do?’ Jane dove for Francis’s center, pushing her off the door. Francis slashed at Jane with the knife, narrowly missing her arm. Pain shot down Jane’s left shoulder. The pain was worth removing her foe from the door.
Jane rolled out of the range of Francis’s knife and to her knees, backing into the corner.
Francis followed, more intent on Jane than the trapdoor.
Francis cackled and lunged.
Jane ducked to the side but knew she was not far enough from the slashing blade. Miraculously, the knife did not plunge into Jane as Francis turned to defend her back from the first man to emerge from the trapdoor. The knife meant for Jane sliced the man’s arm instead.
Jane yelled in unison with the man. Then her energy spent, she collapsed onto the floor, protecting her shoulder from the melee in the room.
A moment later a disarmed Francis was held back by the strong arms of a liveried footman. Beyond him, other men held Duncan and Geoff.
Strong arms lifted her, crushing her shoulder.
She cried out and the tears that she had kept in check spilled over.
“Jane darling. Are you hurt?” Richard sat on the bed cradling her in his lap, releasing his tight grip on her.
“My left, s-sh-shoulder. I-I think it i-is dis-s-located.” She buried her head in his neck “I-I knew you would come.”
“Always,” he said into her hair. “Always.”
She knew he would come. The words washed over Richard as Jane clung to him. He had never suffered a dislocation, but a boy at school, Tom, maybe, had after an especially vigorous ball game. How long had Jane suffered?
Yates came through from the other room. “How is she?”
“Her shoulder is dislocated. Do you know how to fix it? I’m afraid it will hurt her so much to move her.”
“Stone?” Yates turned to the other room.
Stone came through the door.
“Her Grace likely has a dislocated shoulder. Can you put it in place?” asked Yates.
“I can. The repair will hurt like the very devil.” Stone looked from Yates to Richard. “I’ll need help. Your Grace, you will need to hold her firmly in place. Can you— you are bleeding.”
Richard looked down at his arm. Blood spilled from a cut on his forearm. A knife flashed through his memory. “Where did Francis’s knife go?”
“On the table, Your Grace,” said the man holding Francis.
All the “Your Graces” were grating on his nerves. Taking too much time to get to the point.
Stone, who served as a field medic at Waterloo, produced a large handkerchief and tied a bandage around Richard’s arm.
As Stone worked, he explained exactly how Richard needed to hold Jane and how he was going to pull her arm.
“Once I am finished, the pain will be reduced, however, Her Grace should keep her arm in a sling for several days and consult a physician. I have witnessed soldiers faint from the procedure. I am sorry Your Graces, this will be painful.”
Jane stiffened in Richard’s arms. “I understand.”
Richard stood, holding her firmly against his chest, Her face buried into his shirt so she could not see. Her breathing was still ragged from the tears still moist on her cheeks. It was unavoidably cruel to do this. Ten times worse to not.
Stone gripped her arm. Pulling gently.
Jane groaned.
Then a sudden jerk made Jane scream and almost caused Richard to lose his grip.
Stone put a hand on her shoulder and felt around. “The shoulder is back in place. Sorry, Your Grace.”
Richard felt Jane’s nod as new tears soaked his shirt.
Yates came back from the other room. “The wind has picked up as has the snow. The safest way to get back is through the tunnel.”
“No! Not the tunnel again.” Keyes rushed to the door.
Yates caught him. “I can send you around with one of my men. Panicking will not help.”
Keyes nodded.
Richard allowed Yates and Birch to direct the return. After a few minutes, Yates tapped Richard on the shoulder. “I am sending you two first with Stone. If you go down first, we will lower Her Grace to you.”
The tunnel was too narrow to carry Jane in his arms as he wished.
He wrapped a blanket brought from Redbridge house around her and held her as close as possible, offering what support he could in the narrow space.
With a strength he could only marvel at, Jane walked back and climbed the multitude of stairs to the King’s chambers where Mrs. Harding waited with Martha and warmed blankets.
“We have a hot bath waiting, and the doctor is here if you need him.” Mrs. Harding put a hand on Jane’s back to lead her away.
Jane’s grip on Richard’s hand, which she had taken at some point in the tunnel, tightened. “Do not leave me.”
Richard shooed Mrs. Harding back with a glance and gathered his wife in his arms. “What if I take you to your room and leave you only long enough to take a warm bath and change? I promise I’ll be back.”
Jane searched his eyes before nodding. Mindful of her injured shoulder, Richard swept his wife into his arms and carried her through the corridor. As he went, he told Mrs. Harding of Jane’s dislocation and left strict instructions to send for him for any reason.
At Jane’s chambers, he paused. “I promised never to come in uninvited. Even if you protest, I am breaking that promise and carrying you to the bathing room. I will likely break the promise again and again until you are well.”
She raised her head. “I wish you to enter.”
He kissed her forehead and stepped into her chambers for the first time.
The doctor waited in the sitting room. He took but a minute to confirm the dislocation and praise Stone’s work.
Jane whimpered quietly in his arms as the doctor explained how to best sling the shoulder.
Richard carried her to her private bathing room where Mrs. Harding sent him away promising to call him if she and Martha needed any help.
Otherwise, he should plan to return in an hour as they would need to wash the cobwebs out of Jane’s hair.
Richard went to his own chamber to change and have the doctor see to his cut.
Bathed, warmed and tucked into one of her favorite soft night gowns, Jane yawned as Martha brushed her drying hair.
The doctor returned to offer laudanum drops for the pain in her shoulder and adjusted the sling Mrs. Harding fashioned.
Knowing Alex’s experience, and wishing to be alert for Richard when he came, Jane refused the drops choosing instead one of Mrs. LaRue’s healing teas.
Richard entered the room as Martha tied the ribbon on Jane’s braid.
“Do you need anything else, Your Grace?” Martha addressed Jane but cast a glance at the Duke.
Richard answered for her. “No Martha. Thank you. Please go to bed. Anything else can wait for tomorrow. Or later today, it is past three in the morning. Sleep until you are called for. Her Grace will not arise early.”
Martha curtsied and left the room.
Richard came to stand behind Jane. “What do you wish of me?”
A question he asked both times he came to her door only to be sent off by Mrs. Harding.
This time he came in response to Jane’s bold request. Jane looked at the empty dog bed.
Martha had told her that her loyal dog would not be here tonight as he was resting under the master of the hound’s care.
She looked at her husband in the mirror. “Stay with me?”
His reflection pinked even as it softened.
Jane turned to face him and stumbled through her reasoning. “Not… My shoulder… I do not wish to be alone.”
More like she was terrified of reliving the last day in her dreams. Though Martha declared Jane vermin free after her bath, there had been fleas and other bugs in her clothing and a spider in her hair which Jane did not have the strength to care about, not that she was afraid of them like Phil…
Jane knew each insect would grow to terrifying sizes in the nightmares likely to come.
He offered his hand. “Are you sure I will not hurt you if I share the bed?”
She stood with his assistance, and they walked toward the mammoth bed. “Most of my life I shared my bed with George, or George and a dog, then just a dog. I will sleep better with someone else with me. I understand Duke is sleeping below stairs with his injuries. So…”
“I am the last choice?” An almost smile appeared on his face.
Jane covered a yawn. “Never. My. Last.”
Richard helped her into the bed. “If you will give me but five minutes, I will divest myself of my boots and coat.”
He blew out all but one candle as he exited to his chamber.
The pain in her shoulder was enough to keep her from nodding off as she waited.
He returned wearing a dark dressing gown in far less than the expected five minutes. “You are sure you will be comfortable?”
Jane yawned and patted the place next to her in response. Not the way she planned this night while standing in the schoolroom, yet she hoped it accomplished the same purpose. Letting him know how much she needed and trusted him. Tomorrow she could tell him how she felt.
He took up the remaining candle and walked around the bed extinguishing it before divesting himself of his dressing gown and climbing under the covers by the light of the fire.
She reached out her hand for his and snuggled into him adjusting her position to give her shoulder relief in his embrace. The questions she wanted to ask about Duncan, Francis, and Geoff would have to wait until tomorrow.