Page 74 of A Whisper of Desire
Hadley’s suggestion made sense.
They grabbed blankets out of the carriage and cut the cushion squabs off with Arend’s dagger. They moved both women under the tree, out of the direct sunlight, and Hadley started a fire in order to boil water to drink.
Maitland walked with Arend as he made for his horse. “Don’t let me down. She means everything to me.”
“I’ll be back, and with a good surgeon. Just make sure you keep her alive until then.” He whirled his horse in the direction of Crouch End and took off. He had Hadley’s horse hog-tied to his saddle, so he could alternate horses.
Maitland watched his friend ride off. He trusted Arend with his life, but could he trust him with Marisa’s? It would appear he had little choice.
He heard murmured voices behind him. He made his way back to their makeshift camp and saw that the other woman was sitting up, talking with Hadley. She was quietly crying. “I tried to grab for her, but I didn’t have enough strength to hold her.”
“It’s not your fault, dear girl,” Hadley said.
Maitland was far too worried about Marisa to give her a moment’s thought. He used the dagger Arend had left him to carefully cut her soaking-wet clothes from her body.
Hadley had the decency to walk away to fetch water to boil in the carriage’s metal foot warmer they’d found in the wreckage.
Maitland stripped off his coat and jacket. He used the jacket to cover the squab they lay Marisa upon. She hadn’t made a sound, not even when they moved her up the bank. He covered her back up with his coat; cutting a hole so the wooden stake could be fed through without damaging her further.
Isobel sat down next to her, opposite Maitland, and took Marisa’s hand in hers. “She looks so pale.”
That is what worried him. There was very little blood externally, but who knows what was happening inside. How deep did the wood penetrate? He leaned close and whispered in Marisa’s ear. “Don’t you leave me now. We’ve only tried two positions in your book.”
It might have been the wind in the trees above, but he swore he heard a slight hiss of breath.
“Who would do this to her, to us?”
Maitland tried to tip some whiskey from his flask through Marisa’s mouth, but it simply dribbled down her chin. He tenderly wiped it away, silently willing her to live. “Did you see who took you?”
Isobel shook her head. “Marisa already asked me. We could not find any connection at all, other than we were both having our first season.”
Hadley arrived back. “Has she spoken?”
Maitland shook his head, his eyes misting.
“May I?” Frowning, Hadley bent and ran his fingers over Marisa’s head. “There is a large bump here, she might be knocked out.”
“She bumped her head earlier at the club.”
Hadley’s hands continued roaming. “Well, there are two bumps now. Feel.” He guided Maitland’s fingers to the back of Marisa’s skull and then to the side of her head. He could feel a bump that was much larger than the earlier one.
“This is probably the culprit, and the reason why she’s not waking.” Hadley felt for her pulse. “It’s steady and I think slightly stronger than before, now that she’s more comfortable.”
Isobel sat hugging her knees. “I wish I could do more.”
Maitland simply sat in stony silence, squeezing her hand to let her know he was here, and also in the hope that if he squeezed hard enough she wouldn’t be able to leave him.
After half an hour, Maitland checked her thoroughly again, but her condition hadn’t changed. He was thankful it hadn’t worsened. Maitland checked the wound several times, pouring whiskey from Hadley’s hip flask on it to keep it clean. Infection would be the biggest risk. The longer the stick remained in her body, the worse off she’d be.
“Did you hear that? It’s horses,” Hadley said. “It can’t be Arend, it’s too soon.”
The two men looked at each other and reached for their pistols. Hadley moved to put himself between the approaching horses and Isobel, while Maitland never left Marisa’s side.
The horses and a horse-drawn wagon came into view; it was Arend with a troop of soldiers.
Arend walked up to them, pushing forward a man in military uniform. “I’ve found a surgeon, his name is Sean Colbert, from the Army Medical Department. They have a regimental base nearby.”
“Lieutenant Colbert at your service, Your Grace.”
