Page 34 of To Heal a Broken Earl (The Rakes of Mayhem #7)

Wilton Hall

Amberley, South Downs

Sussex, England

Several hours later

Please wake up, Emma. Please wake up.

Michael kept saying the words in his mind over and over like a mantra as he sat by her bedside.

He’d ridden like the devil back to his house, with Emma in his arms, leaving Armstrong and Wright and the other footmen who’d shown up after they heard the gun go off.

They could deal with that bastard Morgrave and his servant Simms. He had no idea if Simms would survive or what would happen to him regarding his involvement in Morgrave’s crimes, but at this point, he didn’t care. All he could think about was Emma.

She’d murmured a few words and then fallen unconscious on the ride back. When he got to the house, he’d rushed up the front steps, kicking open the front door and almost knocking over poor Stanhope, who was just coming to open it.

Michael had barked out orders as he ran up the staircase, for Dr. Bianchi, Celia, Doris, and everyone else to see to Emma’s injuries.

He could hear Lady Beadle and Aunt Chippie bickering as they came to see what the commotion was about.

But that didn’t concern him either. Stanhope could play referee between them.

But he had faith in his staff and, yes, in Doris and certainly Celia, who came upstairs moments after he kicked open Emma’s bedroom door. They ushered him out while they undressed Emma and called him back inside after she was in bed.

Hastings escorted Dr. Bianchi in a few minutes later.

Michael quickly explained her injuries—the rope burns and the injury to her head—and asked that the doctor examine her thoroughly.

He’d already taken Celia aside and asked her and Doris to stay.

He’d also asked Celia to request that the doctor examine Emma to make sure Morgrave hadn’t violated her.

Celia assured him that they would do everything to make sure all of Emma’s injuries were tended to.

He sighed with relief, and then his knees buckled, and he nearly fell from his leg wound and the resulting blood loss. Luckily, Hastings had grabbed him by the arm and helped him to his own room, where he proceeded to help him undress and wash the grime away, especially on his leg.

Dr. Bianchi bustled in an hour later, just as Hastings was applying pressure to the wound that continued to bleed.

“How is Emma?” Michael asked, feeling his chest constrict at the serious look on Dr. Bianchi’s face.

“Calm yourself, my lord,” the doctor said as he set his medical bag on the bedside table.

“We examined Lady Emma thoroughly, and other than the injury to the back of her head, which required a few stitches, she had only a few minor cuts and bruises in addition to the rope burns on her wrists and ankles. And that is all,” he said meaningfully as his eyes met Michael’s.

“No other injuries of any kind. I left her in the good care of the ladies. She did awaken while I was examining her and was able to answer my questions fully. She is lucid, and she will make a full recovery.”

Michael let out a deep breath. “Thank you, doctor.”

“But she was very agitated and wanted to know if you were all right, my lord.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I said you would tell her yourself when you saw her.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “I hope you reassured her.”

“I did, of course. Now, let us tend to your leg so that you can go to Lady Emma and reassure her yourself, hmm?”

“I might need a few stitches on this damn leg,” Michael muttered.

“I think you might need more than that, my lord,” Dr. Bianchi said as he examined the wound. “Tell me everything that happened before and after you were stabbed.”

Michael told the doctor about the mad ride on horseback to catch up to Morgrave to stop him from kidnapping Emma, and then how he’d leaped onto Morgrave’s horse and sent them both toppling to the ground just as Morgrave stabbed him in the leg.

They fought, and Morgrave was subdued. He didn’t go into further detail about that part—that he had beaten Morgrave to a pulp.

But given the good doctor’s arched brows, he must have figured it out.

“How is he, doctor?” Wright asked. He and Armstrong had just come up to the room and were standing just inside with their backs to the door. It was as far as Dr. Bianchi and Hastings would allow, both saying they needed a large, uncrowded area around Michael to keep the wounded area clean.

“I think he may be very pleased with my findings. Give me just a minute to check what I’m seeing,” Dr. Bianchi said, still probing into the wound.

“My lords, I think the stabbing of Lord Wilton’s leg, along with the heat of battle, led to something quite extraordinary.

If you’ll just lie still as can be, I shall show you what I mean momentarily. ”

“I shall be as still as a log, Bianchi,” Michael replied.

“Good, but just in case, we’ll have Hastings’s help.”

With a quick nod, Hastings held down Michael’s leg while the doctor proceeded to disinfect the wound.

Michael hissed at the sting but, true to his word, kept still as the doctor took a pair of tweezers and began to poke around in the wound.

A few moments later he pulled out a small piece of twisted metal and held it up to the candlelight.

“Aha, there we have it.”

“Was that from the knife?” Michael asked. Did the tip of the knife break off and lodge itself in his leg?

“No, my lord. This is a piece of shrapnel left over from your old injury. It must have become embedded deep in the bone and then loosened from the stabbing and the fall from the horse. It appears that the knife hit your thigh bone, likely hitting an area impacted by this old wound. Perhaps right alongside it. As I understand it, damage from the previous gunshot wound is the source of your limp and ongoing pain. I’ve always suspected there was shrapnel still in there, and now, it appears a large piece has been dislodged.

It was buried deep in the bone and was probably unable to be detected at the time.

” He waved his hand in the air in a flourishing movement, as if making the point.

“Lady Bethany Romney thought she had gotten all of it,” Armstrong said.

“And she probably did retrieve all she could find. But this larger fragment had embedded itself deep in the bone. The knife’s tip struck it and broke it free. Remarkable!” Dr. Bianchi said. “I’ve no other explanation for what appears to be a true silver lining for this man.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me for not being as thrilled about this as all of you are, could you please sew me up so that I can get back to Emma?” Michael asked.

“Of course,” the doctor said with a smile.

“So, if I’m following this correctly, if he gets through the healing and any possible fever that comes with it, he could find himself without the pain he’s endured,” Hastings said. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, that is exactly right,” the doctor said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Indeed,” Wright said, looking at Michael. “You used to be a pretty good dancer. I might have to brush up on my skills if I’m to continue to outshine him on the dance floor.”

Armstrong nearly choked with laughter. “Yes, that might be a good idea.”

Michael laughed too. “I don’t know if dancing at balls is in my future. But rest assured, I won’t be vying for any of the ladies.” The only woman he wanted was a few doors down the hall.

As the doctor finished sewing him up, Armstrong and Wright updated Michael on Morgrave and Simms. Morgrave was in bad condition, so they would have Dr. Bianchi patch him up, just enough to transport him under guard to Newgate.

Simms’s wound wasn’t as serious, as the bullet had passed through his side and didn’t hit any organs.

He told them what had been going on, and Armstrong planned to verify as much as he could and check on Simms’s background.

If what he told them was true, the man didn’t have any prior knowledge of Morgrave’s evil deeds and was trying to get out from under the viscount’s thumb.

Michael agreed that it would be wrong to turn Simms in to the authorities. They would figure out how they could help him reclaim his life and make up for what he’d done.

An hour later, Michael was at Emma’s bedroom door, knocking softly.

Celia opened the door and ushered him in.

“She’s resting. She was very upset and wanted to know how you were, until we explained that you were fine and would be in to see her soon. I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” she said.

“Thank you,” Michael said.

“My husband and Lord Wright stopped by ahead of you and then went downstairs to have a hearty meal. I’m sure both he and Wright are being fussed over by Lady Beadle, Aunt Chippie, and Mrs. Peppers,” Celia said with a wink as she left the room, closing the door with a soft click.

Michael stood at the foot of Emma’s bed for a few moments, taking in the heartwarming scene.

Katie was sound asleep next to Emma with her thumb in her mouth, and at the foot of the bed lay Finn, who had a large bandage wrapped around his torso. Poor fella. Finn was a true hero today. Michael gently rubbed his head, and the dog let out a sigh in his sleep. “Good boy,” Michael whispered.

He sat in the chair next to Emma’s bed and watched the woman he loved as she slept, her head wrapped in a bandage. She looked so frail. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, wishing he could take her in his arms and kiss her. He’d come so close to losing her…

But he would never let that happen again.

He would tell her how he felt.

When she opened her eyes.

“I’ll tell you then,” he whispered, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it. “I’ll tell you how much I love you, Emma…”

And then he, too, fell asleep.

~*~