Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Wringing out her handkerchief, Charlotte stood in the doorway, her heart racing as she watched the men tending to Peregrine… Her dear Perry.
“Perhaps we shall leave the men to it,” Aamina suggested, the words a soft whisper coming from behind.
The maid’s usually perfect dark hair had become slightly mussed with all the excitement.
Her eyes were wide with apprehension as she watched the events take place in the bedroom next to Charlotte’s.
If Aamina looked even slightly disheveled, Charlotte assumed she must look a fright.
She stroked the side of her head, attempting to smooth back her hair as she considered.
How much easier would it be to simply disappear…
as she always had. The risk of Perry catching a glimpse would be small if she stayed away.
If she could stay away.
With a silent shake of her head, she pushed her fear down and took a step toward him.
Their patient took up all the space in the small bed.
Hutchins bent over Perry; his gray brow creased with worry.
Bexley removed Perry’s boots, tucking them out of the way.
Her breath caught as she understood what was happening.
They were undressing him to make him more comfortable and to see the extent of the damage caused by his wound.
With a falsely confident flourish, she brushed aside any doubts. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before; she was familiar with all parts of this man.
Charlotte chewed her bottom lip as Hutchins cut the fine fabric of Peregrine’s shirt with scissors.
The footman placed a ewer of steaming hot water on the table in the room.
Aamina came into the room clutching a fresh pile of clean cloths and carefully poured the hot water into a separate bowl.
Bexley helped Hutchins peel back the shirt from Perry’s chest and lift him to remove the bloodied rags that remained.
Their patient grunted at the movement. She would send someone to find one of her Papa’s nightshirts to cover him once they tended to his wound.
Hutchins turned to Charlotte, aghast at her presence in the room. “Let us tend to him, ma’am. ’Tis not a proper sight for a lady.”
Charlotte waved away his concerns and took the bowl of hot water away from her maid. Hutchins removed the shirt, handing the balled-up linen to Aamina.
“He is my guest, and I will tend to him. I’m hardly an innocent maid,” Charlotte said as she raised a challenging brow at the servants. “Besides, he is scarcely in shape to cause a scandal, is he?”
Placing the bowl of hot water on the bedside table, Charlotte bent over the unconscious man, examining the wound.
The bullet was lodged in his shoulder. Peregrine trembled, his breaths rapid as she gently palpated around the wound.
She found no exit where the bullet would have left his body.
The doctor would have to remove the bullet.
It was imperative to prevent the putrefaction of the wound.
Hutchins and Aamina shared a glance, to which Charlotte responded with her own authoritative glare. Straightening her spine, she waited for them to obey her orders, projecting a confidence she did not feel. The maid nodded and left to search for more supplies.
“Ring if you need anything, ma’am. We will help you dress him once he has been fully examined.
I will bring the doctor up as soon as he arrives.
Our guest is a lucky man to be subject to the tender ministrations of so kind a lady.
” The servants returned to their respective duties, whispering of the new tasks that would be required in helping heal the ailing gentleman as they retreated into the hallway.
Charlotte shook her head as she gazed at the ghastly pale man lying on the bed before her.
There was no fear of discovery, since he was completely unconscious.
She would hide once the doctor came. Having placed Perry in the room near hers, she could listen in on the doctor’s examination.
A propped-open door would suffice in giving her access to all the information.
Carefully dipping a clean cloth in the bowl of hot water and wringing it out, she winced as her hands adjusted to the heat of the water-soaked cloth.
Worry gnawed at her, seeing such a strong man brought so low.
Once the blood was carefully cleaned, she wondered what the wound would reveal.
Removing the bullet would add a layer of risk and suffering to the treatment.
Grateful for each of his inhales, she hoped the location of the wound meant that he would recover completely from the attack.
As she wiped away a trail of drying blood that had smeared under the shirt, she considered the implications of this attack.
Why would anyone shoot Lord Spencer?
Was it an accident?
Where had he been shot, if the horse traveled to Fermoy? Had he been visiting his family’s estate at Bodmin? Most likely.
The questions would have to wait until Perry was alert to be answered.
Charlotte held her breath as Perry stirred in his unconsciousness.
The wound must be painful, and he was feeling it.
She could tell by the small sound he made as she probed closer to the injury.
At least he wasn’t completely unaware. It was a good sign that he would eventually awaken.
Rest would prove the best healer, and Charlotte was anxious to have a doctor examine him and confirm her observations.
Her eyes traveled carefully down the smooth planes of his chest. Married life seemed to have served him well.
His body no longer held the lean appearance of his youth.
His muscles were well-formed and strong, and there was a slight softness to his midsection that bespoke an enjoyment of a good meal and perhaps a drink or two.
Not that she minded, her appearance had changed as well, after almost a decade.
His disheveled hair gave him an almost boyish look.
Her hand traveled subconsciously to his bearded face, cupping the cheek of the one she had once cherished so dearly.
She could still see the younger man there, beneath the creased brow and the serious frown on his sleeping face.
Charlotte wondered what kind of woman he had married.
Had he been happy with her? After disappearing so thoroughly from his life, she had no right to demand loyalty or fidelity.
She practically begged to be forgotten. Relinquished to memories of a charmed, almost dream-like past. A past where the demands of society and rank were not placed upon them.
Where their duty was only to themselves.
Taking a clean cloth from the pile, she dipped it in the water and wiped his forehead.
His frown relaxed and a soft moan slipped from his mouth.
She held her breath, looking for signs that he was waking, but he turned his head into her hand, chasing the comfort.
Her heart raced at the intimacy of the movement.
How she yearned to care for this man. Her heart ached at the tug of longing his presence awakened in her. A pull she had buried deep where no one could see.
The moment she laid eyes on him back then, her heart, like her breath, was taken.
Perry had shown no mercy with his easy smiles and friendly conversation.
He was a moment of reprieve during a dark time where Charlotte had lost all hope of ever finding happiness.
She had come to Fermoy to lose herself that summer.
To escape the reality of the future she was stepping into.
Little did she know how much she would regret that decision.
Sipping on the memories and savoring their sweetness during her hours of abject misery and loneliness proved agonizing.
Eventually, the pain diminished, but Charlotte could never forget.
After all, it was the summer Peregrine Spencer had broken her heart.
While also restoring it in the most unimaginable way.