Into Thin Air: Chapter 9

Once in their room Marianne cared nothing of appearances and all about her husband when she quickly dismissed the men who had helped them up.

"I thank you with all my heart, gentlemen, but the Colonel needs to get out of these wet clothes and warmed up." Marianne practically shooed the men out – very politely, of course.

"Oh Christopher!" was all she could manage when she turned her full attention to her husband. Brandon, sitting on the side of the bed, was already trying to shed his tunic and shirt, but was only able to unbutton the shirt with his more functional hand. He was still so cold he was shivering. Of course she had seen the bruises to his face already, but had stubbornly decided to ignore the for the time being. Right now, however, he looked so utterly broken, and his beautiful features were marred with black and blue over one cheekbone and under one eye, and the side of his brow had a cut on it. The men who brought him home must have done something to help stop the bleeding there, but she could see there had been plenty of blood. A lot of it was on his shirt.

"Let me get this, love," Marianne spoke more softly, trying to keep her emotions under control. That turned out to be more difficult than she thought when she sat beside Brandon on the bed and started to unbutton the shirt his hand was suddenly cupping her cheek, pulling her to him for a kiss.

"I thought I might not see you again…" he whispered, and kissed her again. Marianne could do nothing but whimper as she wrapped her arm around his torso softly under his shirt and kissed him back.

"I was so afraid, Christopher, I was so afraid I didn't know what to do…" she whispered back, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The embrace did not last very long, though, as Christopher shivered again and winced when he tried to press himself closer to Marianne.

"Darling we must get you out of these clothes," Marianne snapped back into action. It broke her heart to see how much he hurt when they ever so gently manoeuvred his injured arm out of the tunic and the shirt, but it had to be done. Once his top was completely undressed, she wrapped a soft blanket around him and proceeded with his boots and trousers. At any other time (and it had already happened, of course) she would have taken a very different kind of joy in undressing him like this, but this time every stab of pain he felt, she felt as well.

She hadn't really looked very carefully when she was helping the clothes off, but when he was finally completely undressed, Marianne could not help but gasp: his entire body as covered in bruises and cuts, especially the side of his injured arm. The ankle and knee of the opposite leg were as thick as his thigh and had turned so purple it was almost black. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but the cuts on his ribs must have bled at one point.

"I wish the doctor would hurry," she half sobbed when she looked through his injuries.

"Help me to the bath, love?" Christopher managed to ask. He was barely awake anymore, not able to contribute much of himself at this point. He didn't much care about the pain, but the cold was unbearable.

Marianne just nodded and positioned herself so that she could support him from his better side for the few awkward steps he had to take to reach the tub. Getting into the tub was another feat of courage, but with some groans and sobs they managed to lower Brandon into the hot water. The shivers immediately followed, but gradually his body accepted the warmth. Marianne picked up a sponge, rolled up her sleeves and started to wash Christopher's aching body as gently as she could. In a matter of moments she heard his breathing change and saw that he was leaning his head to the back of the tub, eyes closed.

"You sleep, my love. You're safe now and I'll not let anything happen to you again," Marianne spoke softly.

She washed his hair, and still he did not wake up. He smelled of a curious combination of a meadow and smoke, but little by little the water erased all these external scents off him and finally all that she could smell on him was a bit of his soap and the essence of Christopher. She had been so afraid she'd never be able to smell that again. His body was warm again and he no longer shivered. But if he was so deeply asleep Marianne would not be able to get him out of the bath.

Excellent timing from the doctor came to Marianne's rescue, as there was a knock on the door just when she was giving Brandon's hair one last rinse. The doctor entered and looked a little surprised at what he saw. There had been a few raised eyebrows downstairs when had arrived: Mrs Brandon had, apparently, dismissed everyone else from the bedchambers and insisted on caring for the Colonel herself. The doctor had expected to find him in bed in need of cleaning any wounds, but Mrs Brandon had clearly seen to all that.

"Oh Doctor, so good of you to come so quickly," Marianne greeted the man.

"Mrs Brandon, Colonel…"

"He's fast asleep, I'm afraid, Doctor. I was just wondering how to best wake him up and get him to the bed," Marianne interrupted. Christopher's face was towards the door and clearly the doctor had not seen he wasn't awake.

"Yes, he should be in bed now, if you've finished bathing him. Allow me to help." The doctor offered, put his bag down and took his coat off and then approached the bath.

"Christopher, dearest…" Marianne started to talk to her husband in soft tones, close to his ear. She stroked his cheek, wanting to wake him up as gently as possible. He would be in pain again when he woke, but this had to be done.

"Dearest?" she spoke again, caressing his un-bruised cheek a little more firmly now. Brandon stirred.

"What…"

"Shh, darling, don't speak. But you must wake up a little so that the good doctor here can take a look at your injuries. We need to get you out of this bath." She explained. The normally so controlled Colonel was so exhausted still that he was not able take anything in. His awareness was only able to absorb the fact that his Marianne was with him, and she was looking after him.

Dr Williams offered Brandon his hand to see if the poor man was in any condition to grab it. Brandon locked his hand around the doctor's wrist, and the doctor did the same around Brandon's. Marianne went over to Brandon's more injured side and reached her arm around his waist, trying to take care not to put pressure on the arm or the battered flank.

"Is this all right, love? Can I lift from here?" she asked. Brandon took a few deep breaths to brace himself against the pain that was bound to come, then nodded his permission to start the operation. Every muscle in his body was screaming by now despite the sweet respite that had been the hot bath, but of course he could not stay in the tub forever.

Very carefully Marianne and Dr Williams manoeuvred Brandon onto the bed. Before they allowed him to sit down, Marianne opened the covers: when the doctor was done, Christopher Brandon would not be going very far from his bed for a while. Marianne would have preferred other reasons for keeping her husband in that bed, but she'd rather have him there battered and bruised than not at all.

Brandon managed to stay awake through the doctor's examination and not the least because of the agony of his arm and leg being examined by hand: the arm was broken just above the wrist, it seemed. The doctor was confident, though, that the bones had not become misaligned and everyone sighed in relief for not having the pull the bones back into place. A splinter and rest was all that could be done there. For the rest, Brandon had cracked two ribs, but the rest was bruising, even the hurt leg.

"What on earth happened then, Doctor? Do you have any idea?" Marianne asked.

"What's the last thing you remember, Colonel?" the doctor asked.

"I remember getting on my horse and deciding to come home. That I worked out I'd have enough time to get back to Delaford before dark. After that, the next thing I knew I woke on the field." Brandon explained.

Dr Williams had heard about the fire, how Brandon had been in the thick of it in trying to protect the buildings, about the search party and where the Colonel had been found on the way to the house. Having now seen his bruises he could only come to one conclusion.

"I expect we'll never know every detail of this, but it does look like you may have passed out after you took off on your horse. Do you remember coughing at all or did you difficulties breathing at any time?"

Brandon had a think about that. He had coughed a bit when he woke, but had worked at suppressing the reflex when he realized how much it hurt. Can't have been a bad need to cough if he could avoid it like that. But it hadn't been like that the night before, had it?

"Now that you make me think about it, I think I was coughing rather a lot when I took off. I remember thinking it wasn't a good idea to have Caesar and have such coughing fits on the saddle. He's still a young horse and a bit stubborn. Wants to have his own way. He's not easily spooked, but needs constant guidance."

"Hmmm…" Dr Williams took a moment to think. Then offered the best explanation he could come up with based on all he knew:

"I suspect you'll have either passed out on your horse or have, after all, managed to spook him. Something has made the horse bolt off the road and enough for you to come off it. Well, except for your leg: there's a sharper bruise around that ankle there and I'd say you got dragged onto the field by your leg. Explains why it's that leg and the opposite arm where your worst injuries are. Damned lucky man you didn't get tramped on."

Marianne, sitting on her side of the bed reached over and took Brandon's good hand in hers.

"Thank God you're in one piece, dearest. More or less. And thank God you did not get hit by the horse."