Chapter 15

Rain still pelted the city. The sound of thunder had crashed over the house occasionally in the last several hours as the storm intensified. But its fury was nothing compared to Phileas Fogg's pent-up emotions. Rebecca and Phileas were downstairs in the study. Phileas paced about like a caged tiger. Doctor Hastings and Passepartout were upstairs, tending to Melody.

Rebecca had placed herself between Phileas and the door to the study. Every time a sound came from the upper rooms, he had to be held back. The door upstairs was heard to open and close again. Steps sounded along the upper hall and down the backstairs to the kitchen. That would be Passepartout going for supplies for the doctor. Phileas headed for the stairs again. Rebecca jumped up to stop him.

"They are taking too long," he said.

"It only been a few hours, Phileas," Rebecca said. "Sit down. Doctor Hastings will call us when he is through, and not a second sooner."

Phileas turned away from Rebecca, taking a stance at the fireplace.

The agents Rebecca had sent for after the excitement had settled had already left with the body of the Arab and their wounded prisoners. The mess in the kitchen had been cleaned up. The splintered spot in the paneling in the hall and the hole in the pantry door were the only physical evidence that the altercation. That and Melody's condition.

Seeing Melody on the floor by the stairs had nearly killed Phileas. When he had run down the hall to her and saw all the blood, thoughts of Saratoga Brown had invaded his mind. Once again, Phileas was floating over the battlefield in America, holding the dark-haired American beauty as her spirit had drained away. Only this time, Melody's face had was turned up at him in death. There had been nothing he could do. He had again been rock certain he was cursed.

Rebecca had worked her way around him as he had stood there paralyzed. After a quick check, she had declared Melody still breathing. Passepartout, despite his injuries, had left the house to summon a doctor. The good doctor had not been home, but word had been sent to him to come with all haste.

Phileas prayed as he had rarely prayed before while carrying his wife up the stairs to her room. He couldn't lose her! He couldn't lose another… Don't take her away from me, too!

"What is taking him so long?" Phileas complained, in a shout this time. Phileas moved again to his chair to sit, leaning forward with a hand to his brow. He looked desolate and more upset than Rebecca had seen him in a long time. It had not been that long ago that she had been moved to question whether he had had 'any' feelings for his young wife. Now he seemed completely beside himself.

"You love her."

"Yes, I do," he said, looking down at the floor. "After what you told me and the way she greeted me when I saw her aboard that Arab's ship, I realized…"

"I still don't have full recollection," he said, "but I can't deny that Melody has my heart in her grasp. I have fought against acknowledging it, stubborn fool that I am. I had convinced myself for a time that what I felt for her had only the effects of the passion we shared. Passion has never left me so empty and aching for a woman's acceptance or so torn apart when she is upset or suffering. It has been a damnable hell having her so near, yet so unapproachable. And now, just as that has been resolved…"

"It has to be love," Phileas said, staring into the fire. "And I am a damn fool for not seeing it earlier."

Rebecca wasn't used to hearing so much bare emotion out of her formal conservative cousin. She went to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her. A moment of understanding and sharing passed between them. Rebecca bent down, offering Phileas all the comfort she could in a hug to his shoulders. "She will come through it." Rebecca said and prayed with all her might it would be so.

The door upstairs opened again. This time, it was Dr. Hastings coming down the main stairs. Rebecca and Phileas stood and turned to him expectantly.

"The wound was not too bad," the doctor said, giving both a smile of reassurance as he entered the study. "The ball had lost most of its momentum by the time it hit her. It lodged itself between her two lower ribs. The silk of her gown went into the wound with it. I found the ball intact, neatly wrapped up in the material."

"I did have to repair a blood vessel damaged by the impact. That is where all the blood came from. You were wise not to remove the material from the wound before I arrived. It helped to stem the blood loss. What blood she lost from the wound was soaked into the silk and drawn out of her body. Had you removed it, the internal bleeding would have been massive. She might very well have bled to death before I arrived."

Doctor Hastings let Passepartout help him into his coat. "You know, I've read of this sort of thing in medical literature, but had never seen it before. Quite fascinating the way fine silk does that. I've read that Chinese soldiers in the past wore silk shirts under their uniforms because arrows would get bound up in it and…"

"Doctor Hastings," Phileas interrupted impatiently. "Will Melody recover?"

"Oh, yes… of course. She will be fine," he said, coming back to his patient's condition. "She will recover just fine. I don't expect any trouble with infection."

"You will have to keep her down for a week or more," he instructed. "Let her up for short walks to help her regain her strength after that. See to it she gets plenty of liquids and nourishment. And don't be troubled if she can't keep her food down. That would be normal. I'll come back tomorrow to see how her wound is healing."

Startled, Phileas said, "Why trouble in keeping food down? That's not normal for shot wounds."

"No, but it is quite normal in pregnancy. She is over a month along, I would say. A honeymoon conception, I'll wager." The doctor smiled directly at Phileas. "The child will come through just fine, too. No worries there. Good day to you and congratulations," he said, shaking Phileas's hand. The doctor took his hat and gloves from a stunned to stone Passepartout and left the house.

Three people stood rooted to their places after the doctor left. Passepartout was the quickest to get over it. His shock was replaced with a grin that took over his whole face.

Rebecca didn't get over it. Either the young woman upstairs was better at keeping secrets than Rebecca knew, or Melody didn't know the truth herself.

Phileas didn't move or breathe for several moments. He had accepted the fact that he would have no children of his own. And he had only just accepted his love for Melody.

A baby?

"Rebecca!" Phileas bellowed, stricken with the sudden belief that his cousin had kept this secret from him, along with his wife.

"Don't look at me!" Rebecca said, still in shock. "She never told me a thing!"

Three pairs of feet flew up the stairs.