Chapter 17
London, 1820…
Elizabeth yawned and rolled onto her back at the sound of the front door slamming, followed by several loud voices. She shivered as she tossed her covers back and her bare feet touched the cold floor. Tipping her head towards the window, she caught a faint glimpse of the night's sky and knew it was later than Jason had intended on coming home. She reached for the candle on the table next to her bed, knowing she couldn't have been asleep for long because the stick had burned less than halfway down.
Nadine and the children stayed as late as they possibly could, leaving only after the sun dipped from the sky and the children started to crawl out of their skin, desperate to be at home and following their usual routine. She'd joked to Elizabeth that their husbands had probably stopped at a pub, and she'd tried to hide that she was worried, thinking of what had happened the last time Jason had too much to drink at a pub.
She was also trying to pretend that she wasn't upset; that she didn't feel like moving to the country had been some sort of ploy. They'd barely been there twenty-four hours, and he was already running away again. Sure, the case was extremely important, but…it was silly of her to be selfish.
The case was why all this had happened.
Sighing, she gently tugged her robe from her bedpost, scolding herself for almost falling apart on Jason earlier. She'd all but told him the truth, and perhaps that was why he was so eager to leave with his friend. Shrugging her robe carefully over her shoulders, she strained to listen as the voices grew louder as if they were coming up the stairs, jerking the door open when she heard Johnny yelling for help.
The candlelight flickered in the hallway, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. "What's – oh my God!" she cried, rushing to the top of the stairs, where Johnny was helping Jason rest against the banister, a bloody hand clutching his side. A door opened behind her, and she knew without turning around it was Spinelli. "What – what happened?"
"Go back to bed," Jason muttered, hanging his head as he pulled himself up on the last step.
"You're terribly hurt," she argued, glancing at Johnny, but it was clear he wasn't going to give an explanation. She reached out to pull his hand away, but he stumbled back, nearly falling down the stairs in the process. "What happened? Who did this to you?"
She rubbed a shaky hand over her face and shoved her wild, loose curls from her face. "Someone better start speaking-"
"I'm fine," he groaned, straightening up as if to make a point. "Go back to bed. I'll go to bed. And you should – your nightgown, your-"
"Oh, well, that doesn't matter right now," she huffed, jerking her robe closed and glaring at Johnny. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to help him down the hall?" She didn't wait for his answer and turned to Spinelli, letting out a shaky breath. None of theise mean appeared to have a hand on the situation, and if someone didn't do something soon, Jason was going to be worse off than he already was. "Get some cloths and some water, and wake up Sonny."
She started after Jason and Johnny before he could say a word, slowly when she neared her husband's room, realizing that she'd never actually been inside of it. Not here or at their home in the city, and it was a strange feeling, as if there was another side to him that existed. Her eyes swept over it hurriedly, taking in the stack of books on the desk and next to the bed, and it would have made her smile, but any warm thoughts were cut off from his groaning as Johnny helped him to the bed.
"What happened?" she asked impatiently, setting her candle down on the table and looking between them. "Oh, you two." She swore under her breath as she turned her attention to Jason, tugging his hand away despite his protests, and ordering Johnny to hold the candle so she could check his wound. "Jason…what…were you stabbed?"
"Go to bed," he murmured, his eyes fluttering as he pressed his hand back against his side.
"Johnny, tell me what the hell happened to my husband," she snapped, glancing at the doorway and wondering what was taking Spinelli so long.
"We, uh, we were – at a – at a pub," he stammered, raking a bloody hand through his messy hair as he looked at his friend. "Lansing goaded him, and Jason threw a punch."
"Richard?" she asked, her eyes widening as she sank down on the mattress. "Why were you…" She shrugged, knowing that whatever had happened probably involved her father. She shifted to lean over Jason, tugging the blanket to his side and pressing down as hard as she could. There was so much blood on his shirt and his hands, and she knew if they didn't do something soon.
"Did Richard stab him?" she asked, wincing when Jason groaned as she moved to sit on her knees, weighing down on him as much as possible.
"I found him that way," Johnny said quietly, pacing back and forth beside her. "Two officers pulled me out of the bar, and I thought they'd arrest us, but instead…" He swallowed hard, looking towards the door as Spinelli and Sonny rushed into the room. "I'm so sorry. I-"
"You didn't punch, Richard," she cut in, smiling over her shoulder to let him know she understood that none of this was her fault.
"No, I did," Jason grunted, letting out a low growl as he tried to sit up.
"Lay down," Elizabeth ordered, holding her hand out to Spinelli. "Give me the cloths, and get me some water." Her husband muttered something she didn't understand while all the other men looked on. "Why are you standing here? Jason's bleeding all over the damn place and if we don't do something he's going…" Tears pricked her eyes as she hung her head, her hands tearing his shirt away from his side.
"Get some water," Johnny barked, kneeling down beside her on the bed as Spinelli scurried from the room. "What – what can I do?"
"We have to stop the bleeding, and we're going to have to close to the wound," she answered, feeling eerily like her father. How many times had she heard him say those very same words? "We have to be careful because of infection and blood loss, and there's no time for a doctor. I just – why didn't you think to go to a doctor?"
"He wanted to come home," he replied quietly, wringing his hands when he didn't know what to do. "He said you would be worried and-"
"Well, he's done a fine job of not worrying me," she muttered, motioning for Johnny to move towards his shoulders. "What I'm going to do isn't going to feel very nice. You'll have to help hold him down."
"Are you sure you can do this?" Johnny asked, eyeing her closely.
She nodded, shifting her eyes to Sonny, who'd been oddly quiet since coming into the room. This was no way to be woken from a deep sleep, but she knew he'd gone through it a number of times. "You've helped my father before," she murmured, nibbling her lip. "I need you to help me now."
"Of course," he agreed, walking over to the bed as Jason stirred, continuing to mumble.
"Hold him down," Elizabeth ordered, taking a deep breath and telling herself she couldn't mess up, not now. She shrugged her robe from her shoulders and tossed it aside, not caring if it was inappropriate or wrong. Nothing else mattered right now except making Jason okay, and she was the only person fit for the task, which meant she'd have to depend on the few procedures she'd actually seen to get through this.
Jason had to be okay; she needed him to be.
She needed him to live so she could tell the truth and fix this, but mostly because she wasn't sure if she could live without him.
"It's been hours," Johnny sighed, resting his forehead against the window frame as he watched the sun come up in the distance.
Elizabeth stirred slightly infrom the chair she'd pulled to the side of the bed, barely able to hold her eyes open. "He lost a lot of blood, and he spiked a fever for a while, so…" The self-convincing was exhausting, and she'd outdone the mantra of it being okay shortly after closing the wound.
It'd taken hours to get him settled and somewhat comfortable, along with cleaning up the mess and changing the sheets and she could only think of one other night that she'd been so exhausted. Jason had passed out during the whole ordeal, consumed by both the pain and blood loss, and part of her was terrified that tonight was going to be their last moment together. She knew he would have hated the entire scene; his wife's flimsy nightgown and delicate hands delicate hands and flimsy nightgown stained with his blood as they rushed over him, desperate to keep him alive.
"Lansing is a bastard," Johnny hissed, slamming his fist against the windowsill like he'd done countless times in the last few hours. "I'll make sure that he-"
"It's my fault," she interrupted, hanging her head. "He would have known to steer clear of him if I would have told him…" She lifted her eyes, not surprised to find Sonny's on her, his lips in a taut frown. "Richard is completely insane. I don't know why Jason had to hit him."
She moved to her feet, snatching her robe off the bed, suddenly feeling exposed – like she should be covered. "What did he say?" she asked, her hands clasping it closed as she walked over to stand beside Johnny. "Was it about my father?"
He shook his head, swallowing hard as he looked out the window. "No."
"Then what was it?" she asked again, desperate to know.
"He said things about…" Johnny's eyes found hers, and she nodded, not needing to hear anything else.
Leave it to Richard Lansing to take a cheap shot and use her as a way to get to Jason. "It's my fault," she repeated, tilting her head in the direction of the bed.
Her heart clenched at the sight of his pale skin and ragged breaths, his chest rising and falling so unsteadily she'd sat by the bed to make sure he kept breathing, determined to breathe for him if he couldn't.
"You saved him," Johnny murmured, trying to appease her yet again for what she'd done.
"He still needs a doctor," she reminded him, walking over to the bed. Jason's body jerked as she neared, his eyes snapping open, a low growl coming from his lips. "Please be still, Jason."
His eyes fluttered heavily as he started to shift up, but thankfully Johnny hurried over and pressed him back against the mattress. He started to speak, but nothing came out accept a groan, so raw and painful it brought tears to Elizabeth's eyes.
"Spinelli, go to the study. Jason always keeps whiskey in the top drawer," Johnny ordered, glancing hesitantly at Elizabeth.
"It'll help with his pain," she nodded understandingly. "We should have forced him to drink some before he passed-" She stopped when he groaned again, and she dropped down beside him on the bed, skimming her hand over his face. "You're running a fever."
"So sorry," he whispered, his lips cracked and dry.
"Oh, Jason," she sighed, her palm settling against his face as she slipped the other over his hand. "Just be still. You need rest and-"
"I'm so…sorry," he repeated, his head rolling against the pillow. "I don't...remember…I can't…"
"What did he say?" Johnny asked worriedly, sitting down in the chair next to the bed.
"He doesn't remember?" she asked confused, shrugging it off. "He's apologizing for not-"
"I tried," Jason interrupted again, his eyes settling on Elizabeth, and she couldn't help but smile as she saw him slowly come into focus. "Your hair…"
"Oh," she sighed, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her loose curls. "You should – you should get some rest. We're going to get you some whiskey and you'll sleep this off, and I won't even nag you for starting a bar fight."
"…deserved it…thinks you did it…I can't…remember…"
"What did he say?" Sonny asked, getting up from across the room, his eyes darkening as he approached the opposite side of the bed.
"He's delirious from the fever," she replied, taking a deep breath as she looked sternly at the servant. "You're not needed here now, so just go back to bed."
Sonny shook his head. "Elizabeth, I heard-"
"Leave," she interrupted firmly, narrowing her eyes at him, refusing to be controlled by fear. She looked carefully at each of the men, letting them know she'd meant her words. "All of you just leave! I can take care of my husband just fine…" She started to apologize for yelling, mostly at Johnny, but decided it was for the best anyway. She didn't need to have all of these people crowding Jason, and all she really wanted to do was climb into bed bedside him. "So leave me to it."
Johnny hesitated, but moved to his feet, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You saved him, Elizabeth." She nodded, her eyes pooling with tears, too afraid too look at him, to look anywhere except at Jason. "Let's go, Sonny." The servant started to buck, but Elizabeth cleared her throat loudly, a silent warning, and he followed Johnny out the door, closing itthe door behind them.
She slumped forward the moment there was distance put between them, her heart tightening as tears slipped from her eyes. "Dammit, Jason," she hissed, cradling his hand gently in between her own and lifting it to her mouth. She kissed the back of his hand, clutching it to her chest when she realized how cold he felt. "This is my fault. I should have been honest from the beginning instead of…"
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes," she murmured, looking over her shoulder to see Johnny peeking through the door, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. "Oh, of course." She gently squeezed Jason's hand before she got up from the bed and walked over to take the bottle. "Thank you…for everything."
"I just did what you told me told me to," he shrugged, hesitating when he turned to leave. "Elizabeth…what Jason was saying-"
"He has a fever," she cut in, unscrewing the cap from the bottle as she walked back to the bed. "He doesn't know what he's saying and whatever Ric said was…"
"What?" he pried, narrowing his eyes at her back.
"It's between Jason and me," she murmured stiffly, settling down beside her husband on the bed. "So go get some rest or go home to your wife. I can handle it from here." Her shoulders sagged when he didn't leave immediately, and she wasn't sure if she had the strength to yell like she did before. "Please."
He sighed heavily. "As you wish."
She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he closed the door, almost thankful when Jason let out a groan. She needed the distractioned, needed to care for him, fret over him, if she was going to get through this.
"Jason," she said, sweeping her hand over the side of his face. "Jason, I've got some whiskey for you to drink. It'll help with the pain until we can get a doctor to come." She inched her way to the top of the bed, sliding her hand beneath the back of his head and lifting it. "You're going to have to help me here."
"Eliza – beth," he stammered, his dark blue eyes peeking out from beneath his lashes.
"Open your mouth just a bit," she said patiently, giving him a gentle smile. She was hoping the worst was over and that a doctor would be able to say she'd done everything just right, and her husband was going to be okay. "There you go."
She swiped her thumb across his lower lip and chin, waiting until he was is ready for another sip. "Take it easy," she murmured, holding the bottle to his lips as he gulped the dark liquid down.
"That's – that's good," he groaned, her hand continuing to cradle his head as he dropped it back to the pillow. He grunted as his eyes fluttered closed, and she threaded her fingers through his wet hair as she slid her hand from beneath his head, relieved that he was sweating because that meant his fever was breaking. "Go to sleep. I'll be here if you need anything."
She slid off the bed to put the whiskey on the table and almost forgot the lid. Jason wouldn't have been very pleased to have an entire bottle of liquor wasted, and the idea of him scolding her for something so trivial made her smile. He groaned again, causing her attention to snap back to the bed, but he seemed to be dozing off.
"Please let him be alright," she whispered, folding her robe closed as she paced back and forth beside the bed.
She wasn't sure how long she stood there; walking the length of the room, her body achingly tired as she moseyed about, determined to stay awake in case he needed her. The sun came up, spilling the bright, morning light into the room, eventually turning to the afternoon while all she did was pace, refusing to give in to exhaustion.
"Elizabeth."
She looked up from the window on the far side of the room, where she'd been watching the gardener tend to the roses. "Jason, you're awake," she murmured, the tension easing away when she noticed how the color had returned to his face and his breaths were now steady. "How – how are you feeling?"
"Been worse," he replied, licking his lips as his eyes cracked open. Even his eyes were brighter and bluer than she ever remembered. "I'm sorry…about this."
"This isn't the time for apologizing," she said firmly, crawling on the bed and sitting down beside him. The mattress felt so inviting beneath her, comforting even, and it took all her strength not to collapse completely. "You need to rest. Johnny was supposed to have sent for a doctor and-"
"I'm sorry," he repeated, ignoring her brush off. "I should have…come home. Ric – he said things – and-"
"Please, Jason," she begged, not wanting to get into everything when he was in such terrible condition. He needed his strength to get heal, and then…well, she supposed she'd take it all from him again. "You need to rest. There's plenty of time for everything else." She pressed her palm against his forehead. "I don't think you're running a fever anymore."
"You've been checking?" he asked, a faint, sleepy smile spreading across his face.
"I've been here all night," she replied, exhaustion washing over her all at once. She'd been so focused on Jason; taking care of him, making sure he was still just breathing, that she hadn't realized how tired she really was. "I did the best I could with your wound, but a doctor is-"
"You haven't slept?" She shook her head, smiling as his arm stretched out, patting the place beside him. "You need rest too."
"I'm fine."
"I slept when you asked me to," he reminded her, his eyes softening. "I'll even sleep more if you promise to also."
"If you need something-"
"I'll wake you."
"Fair enough," she said, sliding her body down on the bed, the top of her head resting against the edge of his arm. She wanted to be closer to him, but found it to be oddly intimidating. She'd been staring at his bare chest for hours, had touched and bathed it even, but thisnot was different – intimate.
"I won't bite," he murmured as she made herself comfortable. "At least not yet anyway."
"Jason," she sighed, inching her way closer, shivering when his arm slipped around her, and cradled her at his side. She was surprised by how warm and smooth his skin felt and found herself wanting to touch it, but knew that know was hardly the appropriate time.
She didn't fall asleep right away, her head busy with thoughts and fears, and it was only when he started to snore quietly that she felt herself relax. At least if he was sleeping, he wouldn't ask questions about things she wasn't prepared to answer.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, draping her arm over his waist, her fingertips tracing the bandage at his side. "I really didn't want you to find out this way."