by Wendy Vella
“Neither,” he lowered his head, “do I.”
The kiss was interrupted by Warwick, who declared that Lilly must travel with him to the castle. The twins and Samantha decided they had no wish to be left out, so Dev found himself in the carriage with his wife pressed to his side while three little girls and one boy chatted incessantly.
And there was quite honestly no place he would rather be.
…
Touched By Danger
Chapter One
The sour taste in her mouth was so sudden, Essex Sinclair had no time to brace for the trouble that was about to descend.
“Forgive the inconvenience, madam, but I am about to die in your garden.”
Essie leapt to her feet as a large body crashed face-first into her recently planted herbs.
“Cam, Bertie!” she screamed, dropping to her knees beside the man. Pushing her hands beneath his body, she struggled to turn him over. “Come quickly!”
She heard the thud of feet, then several curses rent the air.
“God’s blood, Essie, this had better be good!” her brother roared as he approached. “Your scream had me hurling the entire contents of my mug over Myrtle’s head. She is not pleased!”
“Help me, Cam!”
He dropped to his knees at her side.
“Christ, is he dead?”
“He fell”—turning, Essie noted a horse now eating the heads of her carrots—“off his horse.” Grunting, she used all her force while Cam pulled from the opposite side. The man rolled and resettled on more of her rosemary, sending a waft of spicy scent into the air.
“He’s a big brute,” Cam muttered. “And considering the oaks we already have in this family, that is saying a great deal.”
He was a big brute, Essie thought, reaching for his head to begin examining. Parting the thick, tawny locks, she searched his scalp for bumps or wounds.
“Miss Essex?”
“‘I am all right, Bertie, but we have an injured man.”
“Myrtle came into the kitchen with such haste, she collided with the wall, so I feared something was not right.”
Bertie and his brother Josiah Hemple worked for the Sinclair family. He appeared beside the man’s feet, his usually smiling face lined with worry.
“It’s his side, Essie.”
Cam had opened the man’s jacket, and she saw the white of his shirt was stained red to the left of his stomach.
Ripping the shirt open, Essie saw the bullet hole, blood pouring from the wound.
“We have to stop the blood flow, Cam. He’ll likely die if not. And that’s if the shock doesn’t take him. We must get him into the surgery now. Lift under his arms, Bertie and I will take his legs.”
They soon had him off the ground.
“Move, Myrtle!” Cam roared at the shaggy dog that barred his way. “I’m sorry for your soaking, but perhaps your glower would be better aimed at my sister, as it was her fault.”
Essie shot the animal a look. Her usually fluffy hair was smashed flat on her head, and she did not look pleased.
“We shall clean you soon, Myrtle,” Essie said gently, which earned her a tail wag.
It was slow going, and even with three of them they labored with the man’s big body. Finally they staggered through the doors of the home she had been born in, and down the hallway where paintings of her family hung in wooden frames, and marks bore proof of the seven children who had lived there.
The treatment room had been set up for her patients and would have everything she needed to help the man. Laying their burden on the table, they all drew in several deep breaths.
“L-lord, I thought your brothers were big men,” Bertie rasped.
“He’s got a few pounds on us,” Cam said.
“I know, look at his feet, they hang over the end,” Essie added, looking at the large leather boots. “Go and boil water now please, Bertie, and tell Josiah when he returns to make up Dev’s bed. None of the patient beds will be big enough.”
“Tell me what to do, sister,” Cam said, stepping to the other side of the treatment table as Essie studied the injury. The bullet hole was on the left side under the ribs, and a steady stream of blood still trickled from the wound. Even if the bullet had hit nothing vital, there was still the risk of infection. She would need to clean the area quickly, and if needed remove the bullet.
“Lift him, Cam, and I will see if the bullet has gone through.”
Cam did as she asked, and Essie saw no exit wound. However, what she did see made her sick to her stomach.
“Dear Lord.”
Lash marks crisscrossed his back from left to right, top to bottom.
“There are so many,” Essie whispered in horror.
Her brother studied the marks. “He’s either a very bad man, or been sorely mistreated.”
“No man has a right to do this to another, Cam. No matter their crimes.”
“Some punishments befit the crime.”
“Not this.” She traced a finger over a welt. “They are old, and it’s my guess happened when he was but a child.”
“Now that is a crime,” Cam said, and she heard the anger in his words. “No child deserves that.”
“The bullet will need to be removed.”
“Oh joy.” Her brother lowered the man back to the table. “Just my luck I was the sibling present when you required a nurse. ’Tis my fondest wish that he stays unconscious until you’ve finished, because restraining this hulking man will not be easy.”
Gathering what she needed from her supplies, Essie was ready when Bertie returned with a pot of steaming water.
“We need to wash the area now, Cam, and remove the blood, then douse the injury in alcohol.”
“Must we? It seems such a waste.” Cam took the bottle from her hands and took a large, fortifying swig.
Together they set about cleaning the man and stripping off his remaining clothes. Pulling the sheet to his waist, Essie studied the small bullet hole. She would need to make it bigger. She picked up her scalpel and made a small incision. Cam made gagging noises.
“Surely by now you have been exposed to enough blood and various other body fluids to be able to cope with a few more.”
“Certain body fluids I am more than happy to share, others I am not.”
“I cannot believe you just said that to me,” Essie said, concentrating on the incision. “You are a vulgar man.”
“I have no idea what you were thinking, sister, and if it is what I think, then shame on you.”
Essie snuffled. She and her sibling were not the type to cosset each other, nor hide their feelings. In fact, they spoke exactly what they wanted, when they wanted to.
“Mop up the blood with a clean pad, Cam.”
His large hand did so gently.
“If Lord Sinclair was here, he’d bang both your heads together,” Bertie said from the foot of the bed.
“Ah, but he is not, therefore we are at liberty to speak as we wish, Bertie,” Cam said.
“Now I need to find the bullet.”
“Have you done this before, Ess?”
“Yes, four times, and it’s never pleasant. Hand me those forceps.”
“Yes, doctor.”
It was not an easy task digging around for a small piece of lead. It could have gone anywhere, and done considerable damage. Blood started pumping, and Cam staunched it as best he could. Bertie stood in readiness to hand them whatever was required.
“It’s like eeling in the pond,” Essie muttered.
“You have no idea what’s beneath you?”
“Yes.” Relief made her knees weak as she located the bullet and eased it from his body, but as it pulled free, the blood started flowing fast.
“I need your strength now, Cam. Hurry! I’m not sure this man will live the night if I do not succeed in staunching the blood flow.”
Cam came to her side. His hand slipped beneath her hair and touched the back of her neck. She felt the shiver of power that came when he
r siblings touched her. They were stronger together, and had proved it many times.
She applied pressure, and several tense minutes later the blood flow eased.
“Thank God,” Essie whispered. Now the imminent danger had passed, she felt fear grip her, as it always did when a patient’s life was in her hands.
“I’m proud to have you as my sister, Essex Sinclair.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and the hand on her neck squeezed gently. He softly kissed her head.
She cleaned the wound and doused it in spirits once more.
“Such a small thing to cause so much pain and heartache.” Essie inspected the bullet.
“A necessary evil I’m afraid, sister dear.”
Essie quickly closed the hole with seven neat stitches, and then placed a clean pad over it while she got what she needed to bandage it.
“I always get a jolt when I see you doing things like this,” Cam said. She glanced up at him. The Sinclair green eyes were studying her intently.
Like all seven siblings, he had dark hair. Tall, he was not as large as their eldest brother, Dev, but still a considerable height and weight.
“You’re the gentle sister. The one we go to when we need an ‘awww, there there, everything is all right,’ so when I see you extracting a bullet from an unconscious man, it throws me.”
“Awww, there there, brother, everything will be all right.”
Cam snorted. “But seriously, you’re amazing, Essie. I just wanted you to know.”
“I’ll take that compliment, and I love you too, brother.”
Now she needed to check for further injuries. Taking her first real look at him, Essie studied the still face. A thick mane of tawny hair would reach his shoulders when upright. His skin was tanned, suggesting hours spent in the sun. The sharp edges and lines of his cheekbones were more exposed with him lying down, and could have been carved from stone. His nose was crooked and large, dark lashes were thick. His chest was broad and defined with muscle; bending for a closer look, Essie noted several old scars on his torso. Some crisscrossed, others were straight. This man had lived a hard life, was her guess.
“A seaman, perhaps?” Cam said. He turned over the man’s hands and saw they had callouses. “Some form of manual labor is my guess. The marks to his body suggest this man has seen some tough times in his life.”
“Do you recognize him at all, Cam?”
“No, never seen him before. But one thing I do know is that if he lives, it is solely due to you.”
Had he deserved his fate? Shaking her head, Essie pushed that thought aside. No one deserved to be shot and die as a result. Or maybe some did. She thought back to one man who had deserved that and more.
“Maybe you could get him something to wear, Cam?”
“It’s not enough that I must help patch him up, I must now clothe him also?” he tutted. She watched him turn, then stop.
“I said I was sorry, Myrtle. Have mercy and forgive me, sweetheart.”
“Is she looking at you?”
“With eyes that suggest I have taken her last bone,” Cam muttered. “I have to say her hair like that reminds me of Squire Fudge. You know he has it carefully arranged to cover the bald patches.”
Essie rolled her eyes as her brother left the room, and returned to the man. She started with his head and then worked slowly down his body. He was a handsome devil, and for the first time in many months, a flutter in her pulse made her aware of just how handsome. But she no longer cared for that. Her first and only experience with a man had ended in disaster. He had been handsome, and she’d thought kind. Words had flowed from his mouth and hypnotized her.
“And I will never again allow that to happen,” she whispered. “No man will make a fool of me a second time.”
When she was sure the bullet wound was the only injury, she took a small bowl and began to walk down her rows of jars, selecting the ingredients for the tisane she would try and pour down his throat. She mixed them with a small amount of hot water, then set it on the rack to stay warm. Next she prepared something for the pain he was sure to wake with... if he woke.
“Christ!”
Essie hurried back to her patient at his gruff curse. His eyes were open, the tawny brown depths filled with pain. She’d seen eyes like that before, in a painting of a lion. The sun was lowering in the sky, but there was still enough light from the windows to pick up the flecks of amber in the iris. Essie was used to the unusual, being from a family that stood outside what was termed normal, yet she had never seen eyes like this on a human. In fact, this man was surely a lion in every way, big and strong. She could feel the power beneath her fingers as she touched the cords of muscle in his arms to soothe him.
“I will give you something for the pain. Rest now,” Essie said in the gentle voice she reserved for her patients.
“Who are you?” His fingers wrapped around her wrist and held her as she would have turned away. The grip was surprisingly strong, considering his injury.
“Miss Sinclair, sir. Now do not move, as you will start the wound bleeding again. Release me please.”
He did, and she placed an arm beneath his shoulders and helped him upright.
“A few mouthfuls will help with the pain.”
He drank and then wrinkled his nose.
“More.”
“It is foul.”
“And yet good for you, so you will drink every drop.” Essie had three brothers and three sisters, and she had coaxed even the most reluctant of her siblings to take medicine when required.
His eyes looked at her over the rim as he did what she asked. The tawny depths were intent as he studied her. Ignoring the flutter in her pulse, she lay him back on the bed.
“Rest now,” Essie soothed, brushing the hair from his forehead in a gesture as natural as breathing to her.
“Where am I?”
“Oak’s Knoll is my home, and sits at the foot of Raven Mountain.”
“Someone tried to kill me,” he rasped, pain filling his incredible eyes as he attempted to move. “I must leave here now.”
“I have just removed a bullet from your side, sir; to move now would be foolish indeed. Therefore, please lie still while I finish dressing your wound.”
Essie felt his eyes on her as she walked back to her supplies to get the jar of her special paste. Returning once again, she said, “This may cause you some discomfort when I apply it, but I fear without it the risk of infection is greater.”
He nodded but remained silent, and she began to apply the paste to the wound. He winced, but otherwise remained still until she had finished, not an easy task for anyone. Her siblings usually moaned and made a lot of fuss when she applied it to their cuts. This man, however, understood pain; his back had shown her that. Their eyes met and held, and something passed between them. Attraction? Awareness? Essie didn’t know what it was, but it was unsettling. She was relieved Cam chose that moment to walk back into the room.
“I have a nightshirt of Dev’s that should fit. No point in using mine when I don’t have to.”
“This is my brother, Mr. Sinclair,” Essie said.
“Hello.” Cam leaned over him.
The man studied him for several seconds before nodding.
“Can you give me your name?”
“Max.”
“And I am Cam, and this is Essex.”
It was natural for Cam to give their first names here in Oak’s Knoll. In London, they were Mr. and Miss Sinclair, but not here.
“Lift him up so I can bandage the wound, Cam.”
Max flinched as she touched his back, but Essie kept her expression calm, giving no indication she had seen the welts. He grunted as she eased her hand beneath his waist, but did not move as she finished bandaging him.
“I must leave here tonight.”
“If you leave you will make it no further than the gate, sir, and will probably undo all the work I have done.”
“Be a silly move, old man, to leave now wh
en you’re in this state. Best to listen to my sister’s advice, as she has just fished out a bullet and stitched you up. In all likelihood she has just saved your life.”
“Yet I must try,” he said, starting to rise.
“Is there danger here for you and us?” Cam asked.
“No.” Max shook his head. “But still I must go.”
Essie watched the blanket slip, and reached to help him, but her hand touched his side and he yelped and fell back on the bed, his breathing harsh.
“Y-you did that on p-purpose.”
“I would never willingly hurt someone!” Essie gasped. He glared at her, and then his eyes rolled up in his head as he once again slumped into unconsciousness.
“Well,” Cam said, “at least he’s out, so we can move him to the bed now.”
“He accused me of hurting him.” Essie looked down at the man. “As if I would do such a thing.”
“Ungrateful is what he is. Now here is Bertie, we shall carry him to Dev’s room.”
Between them they soon had him dressed and settled in their brother’s bed.
“And now you will both come away and eat something, especially you, Miss Essex, as I’m sure it will be a long night.”
“Lord yes, I’ve been smelling whatever you have cooking for the last few hours,” Cam said.
Nodding to Bertie, she gave the patient one last look, and left the room behind her brother.
Josiah and Bertie Hemple had lived with the Sinclair family for as long as Essie could remember. Both widowed, they had come because Essie’s uncle wanted someone looking after his nieces and nephews that he trusted. Especially as their own father could not be relied upon to provide for his children. Now that they only resided here for a few months of the year, and then only she and Cam, and sometimes their little siblings, the brothers had the house to themselves for most of the year.
Her brother had also insisted that for propriety’s sake she bring her maid, Grace, with her from London. So often when she was here alone, there were three servants watching over her. Ridiculous, as she had pointed out, but Devon, her eldest brother, would not yield in this. He was extremely protective of his family.
