Chapter Forty-Eight

“No. Please, it’s important. Allow me to stay.” Samantha pleaded, tears trickled down her cheeks.

“I need as sterile a room as possible. I’ll be probing with instruments. There will be lots of blood. Do you have the stomach for this?”

“Yes,” she said, her hands went to her belly. “I have the fortitude of a warrior when necessary.”

“If you swoon, I won’t be able to attend you. First, wash your hands three times with soap and water,” he instructed.

Samantha went to one of the basins and scrubbed. She dried her hands on a clean towel.

“Is there any more hot water?” he asked.

A servant from the kitchen presented a hot kettle of water.

“Pour it in the other basin. Then bring more,” said the surgeon.

The servant complied.

“I will place the used instruments in the hot water basin in case they are needed again for any emergency. I don’t believe it is a fatal wound, but one never knows about infections. The doctor worked with quick medical efficiency. “We are fortunate the bullet in the shoulder exited through the duke. It did not pierce the lung. That is good news. Do you have any wine?”

Samantha thought it an odd request. She nodded.

“Please arrange to fetch a bottle. It will be used to cleanse the incision each time we change the bandage.”

She went to the corridor and summoned a servant to bring an open bottle.

“Watch what I do carefully if you are going to change his bandage.”

When the servant entered with the wine, he handed it to her. Immediately, she gave it to the surgeon, who then instructed Samantha on how to treat the injury. She held on and realized now if she lost him, she would never be the same woman. He was the one man who mattered and heaven forbid he should die, she didn’t want to live.

Samantha worked with the doctor, but in the other room she heard a Constable arrive, and her brother and Prince Nicholas gave him details. Winston explained the facts as much as possible.

Next, another Constable brought in a thug, also splattered with blood, who appeared to be the assassin. The uniformed bobby directed that the person was to be tied to a chair until he could get additional help, but he also shackled him. “He should be watched with great care. You can never trust such men.”

Lord Winston gave his majordomo a pistol and advised him to keep watch. “Shoot first, ask questions later. Should he move even an inch, shoot.” He glowered at the brawny man whose eyes made it clear he understood everything said.

Outside the door, in the foyer, Samantha listened for a brief moment as her brother explained Prince Sergei’s involvement in the opposition cartel to Nicholas, but then tuned them out as she concentrated her attention to care for Raven.

After the physician sutured the wound, and the shoulder was bandaged, the doctor requested the patient be taken to a quiet bedroom. Winston offered the large guest bedroom in the back of the house near the conservatory. It was accomplished by the servants in record time and with somber gentleness.

“He has to be observed for any change in condition and should not be unattended. I will stay a while, but will come back in two hours time. By then, we may know whether he has other medical issues.”

The words were said, and they carried great impact.

“My lady, should he awaken give him laudanum every two hours for the pain, but be meticulous about the dosage. He pointed to a level on the bottle. If he regains consciousness, I warn you, he may be disoriented. If he is, the duke will need strict attention. Send for me again if I am not already here.”

She accepted the vial from him and placed the medication at Raven’s bedside. “Forgive me, Sir, I did not ask your name.”

“Sir John Clemons, Royal College of Surgeons, at your service, my lady. Your assistance was appreciated.”

“Dr. Clemons, do you think he will live? Please be honest with me.” Her voice cracked.

“I believe we have done all we could under the circumstances. His fate is in God’s hands now. Have courage.”

She placed her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.

Clemons removed an unusual looking instrument from his black bag.

“What does that do?” she asked.

“It is a new invention, my lady. This stethoscope is used to listen to his heartbeat and other sounds made by the body. He breathes well. His heartbeat is less labored, and I hear no gurgle, which is a good sign that the bullet did not pierce a vital organ.”

****

Samantha and the surgeon returned to the drawing room where Lady Margaret stood and said, “My dear doctor, thank you for all you have tried to do. Tell me what I can do to help my beloved nephew.”

He answered, “Pray, My lady. Pray. I have employed all my skills.”

Samantha became overwhelmed with a wave of apprehension. All her strength just left her and exited through her toes. Again, he was right, and she was wrong.

“Winston, can you see to your sister,” said the Prince. “I believe she is ready to collapse. With permission, I will also send for the duke’s family. The heir presumptive must be summoned as a matter of caution.”

Winston nodded. “Advise Nigel, the butler. He will follow your instructions.”

With an inability to speak, Samantha’s eyes implored her brother, who reached for her just as she fainted in his arms. Winston carried Samantha upstairs to her room and placed her on a lounge. One of the servants arrived with smelling salts, and after he had waved it under her nose, she came round.

“He will need you more than ever now, Samantha. Don’t give up. He is a strong man, but he will need your strength,” her brother said. “If you love him, tell him so. Cecily is on her way here to attend you and help change your clothes. Then you can sit with him downstairs. You are the one he will want to be with, no matter what the outcome. He loves you more than his life.”

“Oh, Brother, I was stupid. Look at all the time I’ve wasted on a foolish whim. We could have been away in the country, and the thug wouldn’t have found him.”

“That is not so, Sister. This was a planned assassination. They would have located the duke wherever he went. Besides, Raven is not one to hide from danger. He’s a powerful man. Now he needs a strong woman by his side. Be that woman for me, as well as for him. Damn the cartel. I just want him to live to marry you. You two deserve each other. Both of you have suffered too much.”

She swayed on her feet.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” he asked.

“I need to relieve myself of my food. This nausea overpowers me. If you stay for a moment, I will change out of these soiled clothes, and sit by his side. Brother, thank you. I love him so. I will have to let him know, but how?”

“Yes, I know you love him. I’ve always known. The pity is you had to be convinced, Samantha. You’re so stubborn. I know much more than you think. If Sir Percival were still alive, I would have killed him for what he did to you. I love you, Sister.” His glance went to her head. “Have the maid attend to your hair. You’re soaked with dried blood.”

She looked at him.

“Now,” he barked.

They embraced. Winston helped Samantha to the dressing screen where her maid assisted her into clean clothes, and discarded the tattered slip and dress. Cecily then came in with a water pitcher and cleansed her hair. She attempted to towel dry it, but Samantha was too impatient to wait long. “I cannot lose him this way, Brother. Help me.”

She wanted to believe Raven would live so she could tell him she carried their child. God forbid, if he died, he wouldn’t know his line carried on.

Winston held her elbow as they went down the steps and entered Raven’s sick room. He was still, but his breaths did not labor. She ran to him, threw herself at the end of his bed, and cried, “Raven, don’t leave me. I need you to fight for us.”

Winston patted her on the shoulder. “I will leave you with him now. There is much yet to be done. This incident has international complications.”

In the stillness of the room, Samantha clasped her hands together under her chin and prayed for Raven’s forgiveness of her spirited and willful ways. She had found her one true love and could not bear to lose him in this horrific way. She told him she loved him and could never love anyone else, over and over until her mouth parched.

It was then Samantha understood how he must have cared about Liana and why he had mourned her for so long. Then she snapped to attention. Could this be God’s plan to show her the error of her ways when it came to losing a loved one? If so, it was too powerful for her to absorb because it hurt so much. If there was a lesson she had to learn, she didn’t want it at the expense of his life.