The Marquess’ eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Why would you do something so foolish?”
“Honor,” the Earl admitted. “I am truly sorry for it now.”
“As indeed you should be,” the Marquess’ tone was quite cross with his friend over the matter.
“I will go with the men to seek the brigands on your behalf,” the Earl offered in an attempt to redeem himself.
“I am not at all certain that that is wise.”
“I am the only one who can recognize the men involved in the matter,” Appley reminded him. “Fear not. All will be well in time. I will proceed with caution.”
The Marquess sighed and nodded his head.
“If there are indeed highway men afoot nearby, then they must be dealt with. Take what men you will need, arm them from my own armory, and ride out. Be safe.”
The Earl nodded. “When we find them, we will report them to the nearest constable.”
“Godspeed, my friend.”
Diana clung to Gabriel’s hand in horror as his entire body went limp.
“Gabriel,” she breathed, in terror that he was dying right before her very eyes. She looked up at the Marquess in entreaty. “Help him!”
“He is alive,” he reassured her, patting her arm.
“God be praised,” Frances whispered in relief, standing behind her mistress. Diana looked around and found tears rolling down all of the female servant’s cheeks. Reaching up, she found her own skin drenched.
“The physician needs to hurry, or he will not be alive for long,” Georgette observed to the group at large.
“He will not die,” the Marquess bit out, the muscles of his neck taut with the strain of his anger at one of his own men being shot down. “I will not allow it.”
Diana bowed her head and began to pray in diligent earnest. She went through every prayer she could think of concerning healing. She tried to remember the words that she had been taught from birth, but none of them seemed to bring her any comfort.
In the end, she simply resorted to repeating the same words, God save him, please God save him, over and over again silently in her mind.
She knew that her behavior in that moment, as she knelt clutching his hand, might give her feelings for him away to the others present, but she did not have the energy to care.
“Please God save him,” she whispered, as Georgette came to kneel beside her in prayer.
Chapter 29
When the physician finally arrived from the village, he ushered everyone out of his way and immediately set to working on Gabriel’s wound. He shouted orders to the staff to bring him the supplies that he needed, then ordered all of the strong men in the room to hold Gabriel down while he attempted to remove the lead ball.
“Do not let him move. No matter what happens next, do not let him move. I do not wish to slice through his artery,” the physician instructed those who held him down.
The Marquess and the butler each took ahold of Gabriel’s body, along with a few other male servants, and held him down to the settee as the physician removed the lead ball with his surgical equipment. Gabriel awoke from the pain, eyes bulging from their sockets, every muscle in his body tense, his face red, neck muscles corded. Had he not been held down by the Marquess, he would have come right off of the settee and landed on the floor.
The physician worked as quickly as he could to care for Gabriel’s wound, but it was not an easy task. He removed pieces of cloth and fragments of metal out of the wound as he muttered about possible future putrefaction. The physician staunched the flow of blood, then sewed up the shoulder’s torn tissues and flesh. Diana and Georgette never left his side through the entire operation, Diana clutching Gabriel’s hand and Georgette offering her sister support.
When the physician was done, he stood and moved to wash his hands in a basin of water that one of the maids had brought for him.
“He will need to be watched for fever and signs of an infection. There was quite a bit of cloth in the wound from his shirt and coat, along with the lead ball. Most wounds of this nature turn putrid if not properly cared for.” Taking a decanter of brandy from the side table, he poured it over Gabriel’s wound.
“I need clean bandages.”
“I will go and get them,” Frances offered, running from the room.
“Someone will need to sit with him and not leave his side.”
“I will do so,” Diana answered before anyone else could.
“Lady Diana is an excellent caretaker. I can personally attest to her gentle hand,” the Marquess smiled in gratitude at Diana.
“Very well, My Lady.” The physician nodded his head. “I applaud you for your compassionate heart and for taking such pity on a servant of your household. Are you a member of the Marquess’ family, My Lady?”
“No, I am but a friend of the family.” Even as she said the words, Diana knew them to be a lie. Even now, knowing the impossibility of the situation, her heart longed for so much more.
My desires do not matter. All that matters is the reality of our situation now and that reality dictates that we can never be together, but I can care for him and that will have to be enough.
“You are, indeed, a most generous compassionate soul.”
The physician gave them his final instructions on Gabriel’s care, then left the manor house to return to his duties in the village.
Diana remained by Gabriel’s side for the remainder of the day. He did not regain consciousness, as the medicine that the physician had given him kept him fast asleep so as not to have him breaking open the wound. The physician had been adamant that he did not want Gabriel harming himself further by attempting to arise too soon and reopening the wound so had sedated him before leaving.
As Diana sat watching her patient, she listened to the sounds of the household going on around her. The sun was brighter than usual, without a cloud in the sky, and Diana hoped that the weather would hold long enough for the Earl and the others to bring the criminals who had hurt Gabriel to justice. It had been quite a surprise to see them both, as she had not expected to see the Earl until her return to Kilgrave, nor Gabriel possibly ever again.
The object of her thoughts murmured something in his sleep that Diana could not quite make out and she leaned forward over him in an attempt to better hear the words.
“What did you say?”
“Diana,” he mumbled, and she looked around her to make certain that no one else could hear him using her given name before answering.
Seeing no one, she leaned forward once more and answered him.
“I am here, Gabriel.”
“I love you, Diana,” he whispered, his eyes still closed as if he spoke in a dream. “And I always will.”
“As I love you,” she whispered back, tears streaming down her cheeks. There was no further reply.
Leaning her head back against the back of her chair, Diana closed her eyes and let the tears fall unrestrained. He loved her, he had said so, she had said it back, and there was absolutely nothing that either of them could do about it.
We are doomed to an eternally unfulfilled love. There is no place for me in his life, nor for he in mine. Our stations in life will forever keep us separate.
Her prior thoughts and ideals about only marrying a man that you loved suddenly seemed childish and unrealistic. She had insisted upon finding love for herself and had found it, and in so doing had forever damned them both to a life of eternal misery.
Diana shook her head to rid herself of the bitter feelings that accompanied such thoughts. Many women had married without love. She would most certainly not be the first or the last to do so. Her parents had married for convenience and had found love in one another. Diana doubted that she would be so fortunate, but the difficult things that she was learning about married life from the Dowager Marchioness made her hope for the impossible.
Her thoughts turned to the Earl, the man whom her family wished for her to wed. She knew that she would never feel
anything more than friendship for the nobleman, but maybe friendship would be enough. After all, she had grown to know the man fairly well in the last weeks.
‘It is time that you surrender your notions of romantic passion and settled into your familial duties,’ the Dowager Marchioness’ words echoed through her mind.
At the thought of romantic passion, Diana’s eyes turned back to Gabriel’s face. They had only shared a kiss, but it had ignited indescribable feelings of longing that transcended any form of logic or reason. Sighing, Diana closed her eyes as the feeling washed over her once more from the memory.
It was only a kiss, but oh what a kiss.
She had felt something spectacular and rare in that moment that she knew she would never feel again with any man.
He loves me, her heart whispered in bittersweet joy.
He loves me and I love him, but I was so very wrong in thinking that love would be enough to overcome any obstacle. I should have known better given the pain that I have seen in Georgette and Ernest’s eyes over their own lost loves. I was a fool to wish for love for now I see that to wish for love is to wish for pain.
Gabriel murmured something else unintelligible, and Diana reached out to smooth the hair back from his handsome face. Her touch was met with an intense heat that shocked her.
“Not again,” she murmured, fear clutching her breast. She had hoped to avoid the fevered state that they had just endured with the Marquess not that long ago, only this time it was the man who had saved the Marquess’ life that was the one who now needed saving.
The physician had warned her about the possibility of fever and the dangers that it brought with it. She in turn had told him that she knew what to do. Gabriel had taught her much during their time caring for the Marquess and Diana sent a prayer of thanksgiving heavenward for the newly acquired knowledge.
Ringing for the butler, Diana instructed the older servant that she would need cool water, a clean cloth, new bandages, and a pot of honey brought up to her, as well as a tea made of white willow tree bark. She needed to get the fever under control while there was still a chance to do so, but the physician had been adamant that Gabriel was not to be moved lest they risk rupturing the wound.
Diana leaned over him and lifted the cloth bandage on his shoulder to look at the wound. What she saw displeased her greatly as the wound was already looking red, inflamed, and rather angry. She had not thought such a thing would strike so quickly, but with so much debris in the wound, the physician had warned her that it was possible.
When the butler brought back the requested supplies, Diana began bathing Gabriel’s face, neck, and torso, after carefully removing the bandage. She attempted to get him to drink the white willow bark tea and was only moderately successful in getting him to do so. He continued to murmur things that she did not understand, and she prayed that he would not say something that would get him dismissed were the butler to report it. Through it all, Diana continued to bathe his body with the cooling water, determined not to allow him to succumb to the fever and die while under her care.
“It would be better if we could bathe him in a tub of cool water, but the physician gave strict instructions for him not to be moved,” Diana explained to the butler. “I need to re-bandage this wound with honey. If you could continue to bathe him with this cooling cloth as I do so, perhaps we can save him.”
“Of course, My Lady.” The butler took the cloth from her hand and did as she had instructed.
Diana coated the wound in honey just as Gabriel had taught her to do and prayed that it would have the same effect that it had for the Marquess. When she was done, she rebound the wound and took the cloth back from the butler.
Diana and the butler worked tirelessly throughout the remainder of the day and by the time darkness fell across the landscape, Diana was so exhausted that she was barely able to stand on her own two feet.
“Thank you for your help,” she murmured to the older servant, realizing in that moment that she did not know the Welshman’s name. In her mind she had been calling him Roberts after the butler at Westwallow. She hoped that she had not done so aloud and hurt his feelings.
“It is my honor, My Lady. We are all quite fond of Gabriel here,” the butler answered, smiling fondly down at the younger man.
“He was born here, was he not?”
“He was,” the butler nodded in affirmation. “Perhaps that plays a part in our fondness for him. He is one of us.”
Diana smiled at the clear affection the man held for Gabriel. She opened her mouth to ask another question but was cut short by the entrance of the Marquess.
“I have come to relieve you so that you might go up and prepare for dinner.”
Diana frowned in uncertainty, not wishing to leave Gabriel’s side even for a moment in spite of her fatigue and growling stomach.
“I do not know…”
“Fear not for him, my dear. I will take good care of him in your absence,” the Marquess promised, with an understanding look of compassion upon his features. “I will be as diligent in his care as he was of mine.”
A warning look flashed through the Marquess’ eyes, discouraging her from arguing with him further on the matter. A quick glance at the butler confirmed her suspicions that her own emotions pertaining to Gabriel were beginning to show and the Marquess was attempting to save them both from ruin.
Diana attempted a smile in gratitude but was not quite able to pull it off.
“Thank you, My Lord.” She curtsied for the sake of prying eyes and turned to leave the library. “I will return as soon as is possible.”
“There is no need to do so. I am certain that he will be just as aptly cared for by the household staff as your own gentle hands while we dine.” Diana gave Ernest a look of doubt, but he shook his head to discourage further argument.
“All will be well,” he reassured her, then turned his back on her to care for their patient.
“I will remain with him as well, My Lady,” the butler promised, his eyes telling her that she had, indeed, revealed too much about her feelings for the stable hand, but there was no judgement to be found in their depths, only understanding.
“Thank you,” Diana murmured softly, before turning from the room to do as she had been bidden.
Our secret is out.
Chapter 30
When Diana reached her room, she found Frances waiting for her, having already aided Georgette in getting ready for dinner. She told her friend of her suspicions that the butler knew about she and Gabriel.
“May heaven help us all for if he truly knows about the two of you, then we are all surely doomed.”
“What do you mean by that? You are not to be blamed in this, nor is Georgette,” Diana answered, confused by her friend’s reply. In her mind, the matter only concerned herself and Gabriel’s ruin. Though she knew that it would affect their families’ reputations as well, she did not believe that the mere rumblings of servants would bring about such a disastrous end as Frances’ face seemed to predict.
“The man has no proof, only suspicion.”
“Suspicion is enough to ruin a reputation. Who do you think your father is going to blame when he gets word of this? He will most assuredly blame me for not keeping you from it and your sister for putting the notion of marrying for love in your head to begin with.”
“It will not come to that.”
“You have no way of knowing that,” Frances shook her head.
“I have said nothing to anyone but you and Georgette of my feelings. The Marquess knows in spite of my care to keep it from him and yet he did not tell my parents of the indiscretion. I am too tired to worry about something that might never come to pass. I believe that we have more than enough trouble with recent events to concern ourselves that a servant’s suspicions might lead to our ruin.”
“I disagree.”
Diana sighed in frustration, regretting having mentioned it at all. “There is no time to be thinking about such matters now, Frances.�
� She waved her hand in the air as if such a gesture could erase the doubt that she had planted in the air between them. “Let us worry only on the things that we might have a chance of controlling in the here and now.”
“As you say, My Lady,” Frances answered in submission of her mistress’ wishes, but the look in her eyes said that she was not at all convinced. “But I still believe that we are in danger from it.”
“Let us pray that you are wrong, but either way it is in heaven’s hands, and not our own.”
“I will still keep a weather eye out for anything suspicious.” Frances’ eyes met hers and she knew that she meant it as more than simply a reference to their reputations.
The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower Page 19
