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Charlotte appreciated that the doctor was as forthright and demanding of the constables as the situation warranted, and the three remaining young men hopped into action and worked with the doctor to gather Frederick up.

Rose and Charlotte hurried along behind them, leaping into the physician’s coach as soon as Frederick was placed inside. Seeing him there, Charlotte went right back to his side, pressing on the wound to staunch the bleeding. Rose hovered over her shoulder, unable to sit down, and then they took off.

Thankfully, it was a short journey to the physician’s office, and the tiger, along with his staff, sprinted to the coach as he called out for help. In a flurry of activity, Frederick was brought inside and laid flat across the man’s large table—the thing existing in a room that should have been a study but had been outfitted to provide medical care.

“We shall need to remove his shirt so that I am able to work. Scissors.” The physician—who remained nameless as it was too chaotic to even think of asking—held out his hands, and one of his assistants placed the shining metal shears in his hands. “I will tell you when to move, miss.”

The people gathered to help had swept some type of fluid around Frederick’s injury, their hands coated in another. The pungent smell was everywhere, and all Charlotte could do was watch as the man cut through Frederick’s clothes.

When he reached the area near Charlotte’s hands, he instructed her to move, and she had to actively tell herself to do so. Still, she remained at his side, even as the assistants told both her and Rose that they should go sit in the other room. She would not leave him.

So, Charlotte watched. She watched and helped where she could as the physician appeared to remove any large debris from near Frederick’s side before taking a needle and thread—something so similar to the kind used to perform cross stitch and embroidery—to sew up the knife wound in Frederick’s side.

“He is lucky. The injury did not piece more than his skin and muscle tissue. No organs were harmed.”

Rose visibly relaxed, but Charlotte remained tense as if she were perched at the edge of a thousand-foot drop.

“And his head?”

“Hmm,” the physician hummed. “A hard hit, to be sure. The braincanswell. Bring ice and cold compresses! But the worst of this is over, surely. The bleeding of his side can be managed, and we will bandage him.”

At that, Charlotte finally allowed herself a deep breath. It was years since she had done so, or at the very least, it felt that way. Frederick remained unconscious, but the cold compresses on his head roused him some. The physician, Dr. Brown Charlotte learned, was able to get the wrap around Frederick’s side, and she was given thorough instruction on how to care for him in the coming days. However, they were not to leave the physician’s office until Frederick awoke.

Still, he remained asleep.

Rose left to the other room with the assistants and Dr. Brown, and Charlotte sat in a chair that had been brought up for her, holding Frederick’s hand.

“What did you think you were doing? Did you truly intend to face down Halfacre to the death? I should throttle you if it were not already accomplished by your nemesis.”

Anger seemed to be a more manageable emotion to feel in the moment, less taxing than the fear that clung to her regardless. Charlotte squeezed Frederick’s hand, then ran her thumb back and forth across the back.

For as quick and blurred as the moments of their arrival had been, time not slammed to a halt, dragging on moment by moment as she watched Frederick lying there in the bed. His breathing was steady, but he had not opened his eyes since the cold water had touched his skin.

“You need to wake up. I have not chastised you for your lie.” Charlotte sniffled slightly, a ragged breath exhaling from her. “I spoke to Margaret. Sister Margaret as she is now. She said that she was not aware of how you had come to marry her until after she had left for the convent. Which…”

Charlotte swallowed, her throat dry, and she adjusted in the uncomfortable chair as her left leg began to go numb.

“…she wished to go to. Margaret confessed that she had been using your reputation to land herself there. Her parents would not permit her to become a nun instead of marrying. You were her way to happiness. And…and she is sorry if it harmed you.”

The room hung in silence. Frederick didn’t move aside from that gentle rise and fall of his chest. Charlotte felt as if she was going mad. The need to move possessed her, and she stood, reaching for the compress on her husband’s head and taking it away.

It had grown warm, and she walked it over to the icy bowl of water, which was regularly refreshed by the assistants, and ducked it in the liquid. The chill shocked her hands, but she wrung the rag out and re-wetted it several times until she was satisfied with the temperature.

Returning to Frederick, she draped it over his forehead and then did the same with the cloth that had been positioned under his head, careful not to disturb him. When Charlotte had done her duty, the care told to her by Dr. Brown, she sat back down.

“I am so furious with you. Do you know that, Frederick?” Charlotte didn’t bother to wipe the tears away. “I am sovery…angry. You pushed me away. You ran off to catch that wretched Baron, and now you are fighting for your life.”

She hung her head in her hands, allowing herself to fall apart.

“I have never felt the way I do about you for anyone else. This is all wildly new territory for me, and I am furious and terrified. I…I need you to come back to me, Frederick. I need you to wake up. Because…I…”

It felt so silly to be speaking to him now, but if, for some terrible reason, this was the last time that she was going to be in a room with him, Charlotte would speak her truth.

“Because I think I am falling in love with you. I do not wish to see you leave this earth.” She took his hand once more, but she didn’t squeeze it; she turned it over, drawing circles into his palm. “Round and round a circle goes. No end. Connected to itself into eternity. I will always come back to you.”

The quiet screamed, weighing Charlotte down as if her clothes were made of lead.

“And I need you to come back to me now.”