Continued:

Chapter Six

Anna stood staring at the closed curtain that was keeping her from physical contact with her daughter. The doctor was speaking with her and her husband, giving them an update of what had happened but she wasn't listening entirely. Her heart was breaking for her baby just a few feet away. The only sounds she could hear coming from behind the curtains was the sound of muffled speaking from the nurses.

Not a peep was heard from her Emma and that scared her.

"It seems that she narrowly avoided being hit by the full force of the car. There is extreme damage to her left arm..." The Doctor spoke to John because he saw the glazed look on Anna's face. Mr. Bates listened eagerly but his eyes were dark.

"How much damage?" John asked in an eerily calm voice.

"We cannot save it. She will lose the arm." He let the information sink in, and even though Anna's eyes were glazed, she heard fully what the doctor said and the tears poured out.

John reached out to his wife and she grabbed his arm, needing some support. Even just a touch.

"She's not out of the woods yet, she's lost a tremendous amount of blood. She's not a large girl but due to the quick thinking of a first aider at the scene, she is doing better than we could have expected. If we can find a blood match we can transfuse some into her which will increase her recovery drastically." The doctor was quite sure one of the parents would be a suitable match and they were just waiting on the test results. If not one of the parents, then somebody. "And as long as we keep infection at bay, there is a good chance we can save her life though she will have a disability."

Whether unconscious or not it couldn't be known, John tapped his cane on the hard floor. The doctor looked at his cane when he heard the click of it striking the floor he looked back at Mr Bates and suspected that a disability would not affect this child's love from her parents in the slightest.

"May we see her?" John asked the doctor.

"Just for a moment or two. She's not conscious and we would like to take her to an operating theatre as soon as we know if there is a blood match. But if you would like to see her, now is the time."

Anna was the first of them to step towards the curtain with her husband only a step and a half behind. She pulled back the curtain and gasped audibly when she saw their daughter laying on the bed. The nurses were trying to clean some of the blood off of her but the mangled bit of her arm the could see was enough to shock the parents terribly.

Anna turned back and buried her face into her husbands broad chest. He held her close for a second and kissed the top of her head.

"We've got be strong for her. Come now. We can do it." John whispered the words close to his wife's ear.

They both moved to the side of the bed opposite to where the nurses were working. One of them stopped for a second and attempted to smile sympathy at the couple.

"She's a very strong little girl. You can talk to her. She may be able to hear you."

John leaned over the little girl and attempted to brush some matted hair out of her eyes.

"We love you Emma. Come back to us now alright?..." Both Anna and John saw the little girl's eyelids flutter briefly and they looked at each other. Pained eyes met but they both knew at that moment she wasn't far away.

Anna held her hand, and John continued to brush her head lovingly. She had her mother's fine, blonde hair and he had always loved it. Both of their girls took after their mother and for that he would be eternally grateful. His beautiful family...

Suddenly he stood upright as a thought came to mind for the first time.

"Where is Lena?" He looked at his wife.

"Oh my God. I'm sure she's gone home. I should go back to be with her. She must be terrified." She said it, but she really didn't want to leave her youngest.

"If you go, I will stay here with Emma. We'll be alright. She's in good hands." John looked from his wife to the nurses. They both looked up at his words and smiled briefly at Anna.

Anna thought about if for a second. She knew one of them had to go for Lena, who knows what she had heard or was thinking right now.

"I love you." Was all she said to her husband.

"I shall ring the house if there is any news other than her recovery. I love you too." He leaned down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "And give a kiss to Lena for me."

"I'll be back in just awhile."

Anna held her daughter's undamaged hand for a minute and then quickly left the area enclosed by the curtain walls.

John took hold of his daughter's good hand and held it tightly. He murmured sweet nothings to her as he watched the nurses work on changing the tourniquet.

They removed the piece of cloth that had been tied tightly around her arm, between her elbow and her shoulder and laid it on the stack of bandages by Emma's legs.

A glint of gold caught John's eye on the piece of cloth and he reached for it. It was a shirtsleeve that had been torn off the rest of the shirt and still attached with it was a cufflink. He looked at it closer. It had the initials MC engraved on it.

"Whoever did that probably saved her life. She might have bled out by the time the ambulance arrived if no one had slowed the blood. A real hero if you ask me. Thinking so quickly in the moment." The nurse was watching him look at the sleeve.

"I shall have to find out and thank them." John put the sleeve back down and continued to watch the nurses work.

Emma still hadn't made a sound.

The curtain flew aside and the Doctor was standing there.

"We have a match. Let's take her to operate." The Doctor brushed the bandages off the bed and began to prepare to move her.

"Who was the match?" John asked as he moved out of the way to let the professionals do their important work.

"Tom Branson." The Doctor didn't stop while he answered the father's questions.

John could only watch as they lifted his little girl up and onto a stretcher and took her away before he could say another word.

Mary entered the room following quietly behind the nurse who was leading the way. She heard George laughing before she could see him and her heart lifted for the first time in over an hour that he was definitely still alive. And possibly okay.

He was in a private room and a curtain was slung loosely around the bed. There was a nurse leaned over him tending to something on his upper body and she startled when Mary quickly slid the curtain out of her way.

"Oh! Lady Mary!"

Mary ignored her and went straight to the head of the bed. She was more than startled by the sight of her son.

He had a tight, bloodied bandage wrapped around his head and one of his eyes was completely swollen shut. There were a number of other cuts and bruises on his face, but what caught his mother's eye was the intense purple bruise across his bare chest. She reached out to touch him, but drew her hand back when he spoke.

"Hello Mother." His other eye opened and the blueness of it was pale.

"George! You scared me half to death! Whatever were you doing driving around like a fool? Do you know what has happened?"

"I'm sorry Mother. I'm so sorry. How is everybody?" Surprisingly then he started to laugh.

Mary looked to the nurses questioningly.

"He's had quite a bit of morphine. His emotions are a bit out of check right now. And he took a nasty blow to the head. He's been a bit out of sorts."

"To say the least," Was Mary's only reply to the nurse.

She dared to take her son's hand and hold it tightly. He didn't pull it away like she expected him to, but rather squeezed it. She asked the nurse about the nasty bruise across his chest.

"From the impact we assume. It looks about right for that kind of injury." The nurse seemed puzzled by the look on Mary's face.

All of their glances went to the doorway of the room where a flustered looking nurse called in, needing the immediate help of the two nurses attending George.

"Can you stay with him? We must go. Just don't let him fall asleep and if anything changes come get someone."

Mary didn't really have any say in the matter as both nurses flew out of the room leaving her alone with her firstborn.

"Is everyone okay?" George asked her after a moment or two of awkward silence.

"Not exactly."

"Oh God. I'm so sorry."

"I don't know much about the others except for O'Malley. It does not look good for him. Sybbie is apparently quite hurt and so is Emma. What happened?" Mary pulled up a seat beside her son's bedside and a strange sense of deja vu came over her.

She had sat beside a hospital bed before but the first time she had looked into two of those blue eyes. The last time she had sat like this, the blue eyes on the bed were cold and lifeless. This time it was only one, the other was shut, but the feeling was the same none the less. She was starting to be assured that he really was going to be alright.

"We were driving along and all of a sudden there were some girls on the road. I thought we missed them but then Emma was hurt..." George stopped talking and winced.

"Are you alright? What is wrong? I'll go get the doctor." She had jumped out of her seat, but he wouldn't let go of her hand.

"I'm alright. Don't panic. My head is just aching so badly."

Mary was just a little touched that her son was still holding her hand.

"I am a bit cold though." He tried to sit up but only made it a short distance before his head fell back to the pillow and he groaned.

"Stay still. I'll get you a blanket." She went to the closet of the room and pulled a wool blanket from the top shelf and took it back over to her son.

She tucked it carefully over his torso and under his arms leaving them exposed. She couldn't help but notice how long his arms had become. He had grown so much lately. And she was missing it.

She sat down beside him again and dared to reach for his hand. He didn't pull it away and she was so glad.

"Who knew my mother was such a good nurse?" George smiled, but it twisted into a grimace and he squeezed her hand tightly.

"There's a great deal you don't know about me I'm afraid." She stared at her son.

"Well maybe if you hadn't sent me away I would know more about you?" He looked at his mother to see her reaction.

Her lips pursed and she thought about how to reply to that. He was still angry obviously.

"George, I know that's how you feel, but it was in your best interests that I insisted you go away to school."

"I don't understand. How was it in my best interest? You sent me away because you couldn't stand the sight of me. Because I look like my father." His voice raised a bit and he couldn't control it. The effects of the drug had brought his emotions very close to the edge.

"Oh George. That's not why. Well, not entirely..." At that statement, he pulled his hand away from hers.

Their conversation was interrupted by a slight knocking at the door. Mary stood up as two Constables entered the room carefully.

"We understand Master George is awake and we would like to have a few words with him if it's alright?"

Mary turned back to her son and when he carefully nodded his consent she gestured for them to enter.

They stood beside his bed and looked him over for a minute.

"We'll be quick, just a few questions and we'll let you rest. Don't get up." The first Constable said as George tried to sit up on the bed.

"We just need to know if you remember the accident? If you can tell us what happened?"

"We were driving along, heading into the village, when we turned a corner and there were some girls on the road. We swerved to miss them and hit the ditch. I think we hit a tree. I think that's all. It happened very fast." George spoke slowly, as though forcing himself to remember the accident.

Mary watched her son as he spoke. He seemed to have stiffened up.

"Alright. That's fine. Just one more. Can you tell us who was driving? We couldn't tell by the site of the accident and we were told the chauffeur was found in the back seat."

George closed his eye and took a deep sigh and winced. He hand went to his chest and he pulled the blanket up a little higher.

"I was driving."

"You were?" The first Constable seemed surprised by this.

"Yes." George stared him right in the eye and held his face completely passive.

"Well, thank you. We may come back if there's any need for it, but it seems like it was just an awful accident. Good luck Master Crawley. We're glad you're still here with us." and with that the two men thanked Mary and made their way out of the room.

She took a minute to think over what had just been said between her son and the officers. He was the first to speak.

"So why did you send me away?"

She sighed. It was time to be honest.

"Because I know your grandparents too well. They would have thrust Grantham down your throat from the minute that I married Tony and moved away. It was to protect you. To let you live a little bit of your life before you had to take over Grantham estate. I wanted you to find your own passions and not be in the shadows."

"Why did you move away? You could have stayed there. You know you could have." His voice very shallow a he spoke it. Like he was about to break down.

"Because I had to escape your father to move on with Tony. And of the memories that dominated my life at the Abbey of him. I had to move on, though I'm still not sure that I have. But one of the most important things that I can never escape is you."

George then started to cry. "I'm sorry."

"Oh! I didn't mean it like that. I love you, so very much, but seeing you is always seeing Matthew again. And it's like speaking to him. I'm afraid even after all these years, I haven't handled it well at all. I'm the one who is sorry. And I'm the only one who should be."

She leaned over him then and held him while he cried. She knew the feeling of relief one could feel when the dam finally burst. She let him release it all.

When he had finally calmed down and she had as well, her eyes were not free of tears either, she sat beside his bed with her hands crossed over his.

"You must tell me something George. I have to know... Why did you just lie about driving the car? I know it wasn't you."

It was awhile before he answered.

"How did you know I was lying?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"Because at the scene, the paramedic told me you had been thrown from the car. And you don't have any bruises on your chest that a steering wheel surely would have left. It would have left bruises across your chest, not longways" All the questions bubbled out of her mouth quickly.

"You're right. I lied."

"George! How could you?"

"Because Sybbie was driving. And you said that O'Malley was hurt very badly. And Emma is hurt. And I'm hurt. If they think I was driving, they'll sweep it under the rug. If they think Sybbie was driving, they'll throw the book at her. Think about it, an American, driving without a license injures a Brit? She'll never live the scandal down. The daughter of the Chauffeur who ran away with one of the daughters causes a fatal accident? I'm the heir to Grantham. No one will let me go to jail. And I don't really care what people think of me anyway. She cares. A lot."

Mary took in what her son had just told her and so many realizations came to her. He was right. And she knew it. And how brave was he? She was so proud of him in that moment.

"How do you know so much about the law?"

"Because sometimes I read Fathers old law books. He put notes in the margins on some pages. It's interesting to read his thoughts."

"Oh George. I'm so sorry. I do wish you could have known him." It was Mary's turn to cry now.

"Tell me about him. Please Mama?"

"What do you want to know?" She attempted to control the flow of tears falling down her face. It was everything she had been missing all these years that she had been pushing away. Someone to talk about Matthew and not look at her with sorrow or change the subject. Someone who wanted to hear every little thing.

"Everything."

George took his mother's hand and held it tightly while she spoke. He felt tired and just wanted to sleep.

to be continued...