Chapter Forty-Nine

Samantha came to terms with her foolishness. He was her strength, her everything, how could she sustain him? Raven must survive for her and their child. Her fears were not for herself, but for her innocent babe who could become illegitimate. She shivered at the prospect.

Raven’s moan drew her attention. His eyes opened and bore a strange look.

“Praise to heaven,” she said, and stood up.

“What happened?” he asked.

She held his hand. “A ruffian shot you.”

“Where am I?”

“In our downstairs room so the doctor could better attend you.”

“Who shot me?”

“A would-be-assassin.”

“My chest hurts.”

“I will give you laudanum to numb the pain.” She administered the dosage.

Within five minutes, Raven closed his eyes and lapsed into drugged slumber.

Samantha heard people arrive, but she would not leave his side. His head burned to her touch, and she wiped his forehead with a damp cloth.

Her brother approached. “Some of the duke’s family has arrived, Samantha. I have told them the surgeon did not recommend moving Raven at this particular time.”

“I am sure they are concerned.” Her voice was a faint whisper.

Brandon leaned over and observed her fatigue, her eyelids almost closing.

“I’ve advised Winston House would be made available to their family for as long as needed. Perhaps you can come in for a moment?”

“You must at least take some sustenance. Aunt Minerva has informed me of your current condition.”

His words were not comforting as she was sure he intended. She harbored such guilt. Her mouth was parched. Her head became immobile. She wanted to nod off and not have to face his admonition. She was so ashamed. How had she let this happen? She wasn’t so smart after all. Foolish, foolish, foolish woman.

She rose from the chair, avoided his eyes and cast hers downward. He lifted her chin upward with one hand, and then held her in his arms. “Look into my eyes, Samantha.” She gazed up to him. “Do you remember what you used to say when I would ask you that and you were very little?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered.

“You would tell me they were ba-loo. You couldn’t pronounce the word blue. Keep your head up. There’ll be time for recrimination later, but not from me.” He kissed the top of her head. “You do not want to lose Raven’s child, do you? Just try a few bites of crumpet and some milk.” He then held her from him. “You and your child shall never want while I’m alive. We are both resilient, but you have always been the strongest. Don’t give up now.”

His blue eyes were the color of a Jay. Ba-loo. And she didn’t remember. She just wanted to cry a lifetime of tears. She came to recognize how much he meant to her, too. Then she thought of the child who would be a bastard if Raven didn’t survive. “I have no concern for myself, Brandon, but I worry about the babe. The consequences of my one night of passion have been great. The reality is a sober experience. My head has been in the stars, and they can’t help me now.”

Winston held her by the elbow to steady her. As they entered the drawing room, everyone stared as if she was there to impart some horrific news. All conversation halted. The expression on their faces was unforgettable. Their concern was obvious. Forced to regain her composure, and with feigned assurance, she declared, “He is alive and spoke for a moment. I have administered a large dose of laudanum as the surgeon instructed so he may sleep and recoup his strength. He will slumber for hours.”

Lady Margaret introduced her family to Samantha, and of course, they asked when they could see him.

Winston advised that the surgeon would return within the hour, but had recommended rest, a watchful eye, and patience. “We understand your anxiety. His Grace had awakened but was in no condition to speak for long. In the meantime, allow my family to comfort you. Please consider this home as yours until we can get the duke up and about,” Winston said.

Samantha’s heart was heavy like a woman told to carry on in a storm with no end in sight.

Lady Minerva joined the guests. She came to Samantha who sat her near one of the duke’s sisters-in-law.

The lady introduced herself. “My name is Mirabella, and I am married to the duke’s brother, Cedric. He has been summoned and will be here soon. Please know we appreciate your care of him. We are all concerned for his welfare.”

The dark haired woman had a melodious lilt to her voice. She reached out and touched Samantha’s hand. “I wish we had met under better circumstances. Our townhouse is nearby. Can you tell us, Lady Samantha, any more than we have already heard?”

Samantha found herself recounting the dreadful story, the confusion, the need to stop his blood flow, the subsequent chaos, and as a final action, the prayers that would be needed. She was waxen with fear and exhaustion. Her stomach again felt queasy from the recollection. The funereal atmosphere upset her in a physical and emotional way. I must not cash in my accounts. I must control this action. She stared at the woman’s concerned face.

Samantha was uncomfortable with all the attention. Her headache grew worse. All she wanted was to sit with Raven. Through all of this concern, she noted that few partook of the buffet, but that the strong libations were put to good use.

At the sound of the familiar voices of both Winston and Prince Nicholas, she listened. They spoke about the capture of the assassin who was taken to Scotland Yard under heavy guard.

Prince Nicholas addressed the family first. “Lord Winston and I wish to caution you that the attempt on the duke’s life will be in the newspapers. We suggest that we let the authorities handle the investigation as well as any questions from the pressmen.”

Winston added, “We should plan a statement that deals with his current condition since we do not know anything else.”

“Since he was,” Prince Nicholas became aware of the past tense he used, he corrected himself, “Ahem, since the duke is a prominent Member of Parliament, there will be a high-level investigation. We do not want to complicate matters.”

“It would be best to let them handle the issue of why the attempt was made,” Winston advised.

Samantha paid strict attention to the conversations and at one point reached for the hankie nestled in her waist belt.

They agreed it was a wise decision.

The majordomo announced the doctor had arrived and Samantha rushed out to him. “Sir Clemons, the duke’s family is in the drawing room. Would you be so kind as to address them? They are most concerned and would like to know about his condition from your learned self.”

He asked that he be permitted to see his patient first and would then address the families. Samantha excused herself and followed Sir Clemons. He checked Raven’s vital signs; the doctor’s face remained stoic. “Come with me, Lady Samantha, I will be back to check him further in a moment.”

She and Sir Clemons returned to the drawing room, and he said in solemnity, “I suggest that everyone return to their homes and come back tomorrow. It is difficult to give assurances, but he slumbers well. His heartbeat is regular now so there is a good chance he might recover. The danger we now face is the risk of serious infection. His body needs time to mend; peace, rest, and quiet are critical.”

They all nodded and agreed to return in the morning. His family departed with obvious concern buzzing with comments and worry.

Samantha returned to the sick room and studied Raven’s face in the light. She etched in her mind all his features. How much she loved that chiseled nose, his square jaw and those thick brows. She talked to him until she couldn’t speak anymore. Even if he couldn’t hear her, he might like the sound of her voice. She whispered, “Yes, you do have an arrogant but handsome chin. I’m fond of your lips, too. They are taciturn, but, oh, how I want to kiss them now. I know you like to think you project aloofness and a cold-as-ice exterior, but you never did that with me. I found a way to get under your skin so you’d remember me. From the first moment we met in my carriage, you were concerned for safety, but you showed no fear.” She traced his lips with her finger. “Oh, that stolen kiss was memorable. I was heady at the near scent of your cologne, too. Your kiss lingered, and I was swept off my feet.” She giggled. “Of course, I was sitting, but you know what I mean.” All her haughtiness had been of no avail.

“I want to believe you hear everything I say, but you are not yet ready to utter words coherently, dear heart.” There was a tease of desperation in her voice. “I’m weary. Let me tell you some good news.” Her hand rested with gentle care on her stomach where her baby grew moment by moment. “Raven, we are to have a child. I will be strong for the babe’s sake. I know you would want that. So, if you hear me, will you awaken?” she asked with some pretense at humor.

“After the intimacy we shared, I know no other could ever take your place,” she said softly. “Every other man looks like a disjointed shadow when compared to you.”

It was then she thought about the Duchess Liana, who loved Raven as much as she.

“I had no right to be angry over the love that Liana shared with you. I know what I endure now, so I understand the depth of your mourning, for you lost everything.”

Fate was not kind. It humbled her to understand the power of Raven’s love for his duchess, as well as the power of her now-admitted love for him. He suffered a great loss for a long time.

“I pray you can hear me. I will continue to talk. It makes the time go faster. If you can hear me, you can open your eyes and blink,” Samanatha coaxed.

She fell to her knees and steepled her hands in prayer. “Please do not let him die. Give us, my child and I, your tender mercies. He is a good man. Give him the strength to endure the pain, and help him to heal. I beseech you with utmost humility. Our baby needs his protection. Be merciful to this wretched sinner. I am a changed woman worthy of redemption.”

Then she added, “Mama, guard Raven and our babe. I know you’ve watched over me all these years, but I am desperate for your help. Do angels pray, Mama? If so, please seek intercession for him.” She thought she heard an angel cry. Was this an omen from her mama? Oh, No, did the angel cry because he passed? It would be a world without color if he were no longer in it.

Her strength and courage on the decline, she rose from her knees, sat in the chair by his bed with the door still ajar and rested her head but a moment. She heard a moan and awakened and saw that his forehead was wet with perspiration again. His body shivered from the fever.

“Did you just try to say something?” She bathed his face yet again and changed his coverlet, and feared to move him at all. “This dry cover will absorb the moisture from your body. Later I will ask a manservant to change your nightshirt. It would not be proper for me to do so here.” What nonsensical propriety after all their intimacies.

The room took on a somber appearance with him lying so still. “I will hum a song to you so you might hear my voice. Since you are asleep, maybe I will accompany you. Do you dream? Am I in yours?” And so she did for a few hours in total exhaustion.

Samantha awoke and reached for his hand, and noticed it was cold. “Raven, I will rub your hands to stimulate their warmth. If you can feel my touch, let me know. I’ll do one and then the other.”

She continued her solo conversation, “You do not appear to be in pain. That’s a good sign. I thought of the times you kissed the palm of my hand and it seared me. Now I’m holding yours. Shall I kiss the palm? Maybe it will bring you warmth. Oh, when will you speak to me? Don’t say I’m impatient. The surgeon visited and has given you more laudanum, but when will you awaken?” She took his lifeless hand and kissed it in sweet gentleness.

Hours passed and soon sunlight streamed through the window. “If you can hear me, come back. Don’t leave me, my love.” Her emotions were raw with worry and fear. The not knowing that he would survive unhinged her. She longed to feel his arms around her. Samantha would be happy to kneel at his feet and beg his forgiveness if only he would survive. Thinking back to that eventful night in the boathouse, he fell to his knees for her. It must have been difficult for such a proud, aloof man to humble himself at her feet. And what did she do? She mocked him in anger. “Forgive me, Raven.”

She took a deep breath and spoke in a teary voice, “I need you to live so together we can pursue your dreams for England. You and I can address the social upheaval, dreadful squalor, industrial accidents, and diseases. Are you surprised I am aware now of the tremendous responsibility you have undertaken?” She echoed a weak laugh, “I now understand why you fought so hard. It has been quite an education.”

Her mouth was parched, and all the speech made her tongue dry. Not even aware of her actions, her fingers rearranged the coverlet once again. “You had great vision, and the challenge is whether England will use her power for good or evil. I also understand that sometimes compromise is a fight between the two. I see everything so clearly now. Let me help you, but to do that, you have to live. We have so much to accomplish together.” Tears trickled from her eyes to her cheeks.

The vigil continued throughout the day with Samantha tending him.

Lady Minerva entered the room, “Dear girl, are you all right?”

“Oh, Aunt Min, he hasn’t awakened. I’ve told him the same things over and over. My voice is raspy.”

Lady Minerva encouraged Samantha to change her clothes and perform her ablutions.

“I will call you if he wakes up. Now hurry.”

About to leave the room, her aunt said, “We never know how strong we are until to be strong is the one choice we have. I’m proud of you, Samantha.”

Hearing voices in the drawing room, Samantha peeked in. Raven’s relatives had returned, and waited with patience. She entered and gave the latest summary of his condition. Mirabella introduced her to Cedric, the heir presumptive, who was visibly upset. Samantha offered to take them to the sick room. They walked in silence together. All she could think was that Raven was dying. There was no sound from the sick room. At the sight of his brother lying so silent, Cedric exhaled. “Forgive me, my lady, I was not prepared to see my strong and disciplined brother so weakened. I don’t want to be heir this way for I love him.”

Cedric wiped a tear from his eye. She went to him, and said in a compassionate voice, “We shall make him well, my lord. You will see. Isn’t that so, Mirabella?”

“You and your family have been most kind.” He kissed her hand. “I am privileged to meet you. Let me know if his condition changes.” He then added, “I want to chide him for this scare to us,” and left the room shaken.

Samantha gave the family updates on Raven’s condition each time the surgeon visited. The pressman attempted to question him all four times that day, but the doctor simply said there was no further news. The papers detailed the assassination attempt on the duke on the first page. Pressmen questioned visitors as they entered and left, but little information ensued.

Winston and Lord Cedric Worthington gave guarded statements about the duke’s health and would not answer any other questions.

Winston’s majordomo, Nigel, was kept busy with many guests. The doorbell clanged. Messengers delivered letters to the house.

Soon it was evening again, and Raven still had not fully awakened, drugged with lesser amounts of laudanum. I am a changed woman—still strong, but my head is out of the clouds. Were they destined to be star-crossed lovers?

“You cannot leave us. I promise I will never be rude to you again. I’ll behave. I’ll be subservient. It will be difficult, but I can do this. Come back to us. Please forgive me.”

“I shall be sure to remind you of the subservient part.”

She heard his voice. A miracle had happened!

His eyes opened, and he looked at her as if for the first time. “I want you to be the woman with whom I fell in love.” His voice was hoarse and his breath was sparse. “Don’t ever change, Samantha. I like a challenge,” he whispered, his voice so weak, but his words were clear. “I am up to the task.” Raven reached for her hand, and she grasped it.

“Oh, my love, you’re conscious at last.” Her heart leaped with happiness, and she shed sobs of pure, unbridled joy.

“I’m in pain. What happened? Why does the top part of me hurt? Is it my heart? My shoulder?” he asked.

She jumped to her feet, retrieved the water glass, measured the laudanum with a lesser dose as the doctor instructed, and bent over him to help him sip the medicine. “I will answer all your questions, but for now drink all of this. It will ease your pain. Then I have to summon the surgeon.”

He gazed around the room. “Where am I?” he asked again.

“Do not strain your voice, love. You are in Winston House in the guest bedroom downstairs.”

“Did I hear you say you are with child?” His voice was a ragged, hoarse whisper.

“Yes, dearest, we are to have a babe. You did hear me. How glorious. Does the news cheer you?” Samantha asked, not sure of what he might answer. She waited for his answer. Was it possible the news would distress him? He would want to marry her for the child’s sake, but was that a reason for a lifetime commitment? Would he hate her? After all, she rejected him. Would he now think she leg-shackled him into marriage because of the babe?

“A babe? Are you sure? It hurts when I talk, but I must know. Have you forgiven me?”

“Oh my Raven, I’ve been so foolish. It is you who should forgive me. Our baby needs us. Please rest and don’t speak anymore. I am by your side and will inform you of everything. In the meantime, preserve your strength. Rest,” she whispered, and she leaned over to kiss his lips.

He looked so wonderful with his stubble. Just to hear him talk and have him reach out to her was salve to her tormented soul.