Free A Match of Hearts: A Regency Romance by Hilary Gilman

him in.’
    He picked the boy up with impressive
ease, one arm under his knees and another around his shoulders. He brushed past
her as she stood aside holding the door wide, and she glanced down to see a
smear of blood upon her white cotton dressing gown. The unreality of the
situation suddenly overwhelmed her. Could Launceston really be in her
bedchamber depositing her injured brother on her bed? It must be a nightmare,
surely.
    She gave a little gasp, and Launceston
shot a look at her over his shoulder. ‘Have you any smelling salts?’
    She nodded. ‘But should we not tend the
wound before we try to revive him?’
    ‘Not for him, for you. You look sick as
a dog.’
    She giggled, dangerously close to
hysteria. ‘Charmingly put, my Lord.’ But she opened the top drawer of the dresser
and took out her vinaigrette. She sniffed deeply, and the sickness and hysteria
receded. ‘You were very right. I feel better now.’
    Parry lay upon the rose taffeta coverlet.
His blood stained it a deeper crimson. Zanthe took another sniff of salts,
squared her shoulders, and prepared to deal with the situation.
    ‘Take this napkin and press it on the
wound,’ she told Launceston. ‘I shall go down to the kitchen. There should be
some hot water still on the stove.’
    ‘No, my dear. You staunch the blood.
I’ll bring up the water.’ She seemed reluctant, but he forced her to sit and
handed her the napkin. ‘You’re still too pale, and your legs will barely carry
you. Stay here.’
    ‘Very well. But please be quick.’
    ‘I will. And don’t worry. It isn’t as
bad as it looks; I don’t believe the blade touched any vital spot. The young
fool will soon mend once we’ve got the wound bound and the bleeding stopped.’
    There was still some water left in the
ewer placed there by her maidservant that evening. Zanthe poured some into the
bowl and moistened the napkin. With shaking fingers, she unbuttoned Parry’s
coat and waistcoat and ripped open his shirt to reveal a deep, jagged wound
just above his heart. She pressed the napkin against the flesh and pushed down
with all her strength. Parry moaned and moved his head restlessly from side to
side on the pillow. She bit her lip and swallowed hard to stop the nausea
rising in her throat. Where was Launceston? How could it take this long? Oh, at
last!
    ‘I built up the fire; we’re going to
need more water.’ He handed her a glass. ‘This is brandy. Drink it down; you
need it.’
    ‘No, horrid stuff. I am perfectly—’
    ‘I said drink it!’ He advanced on her in
a purposeful manner, and she hurriedly tossed down the spirit.
    She shuddered. ‘Ugh!’ Then, as a glow of
warmth seemed to penetrate her chilled bones, she hiccoughed and laughed. ‘I
think you must have a lot of experience dealing with hysterical females, Jarvis.
You are so good at it.’
     He smiled at her. ‘You’re doing very
well. Most females I know would have fainted at the first sight of blood. Here,
I’ll lift him while you strip off his clothes.’
    She pushed the sleeves of her dressing
gown up to her elbows and came to the head of the bed. ‘What happened? He was attacked?’
    ‘Clearly.’ He slid his arms around
Parry’s chest under the horribly reddened garments. ‘Try to get everything off him
at once. We mustn’t move him too much.’
    Carefully, she eased his shirt over his
shoulders and tugged gently at his coat sleeves until the coat slid down his
arms, bringing with it the shirt and waistcoat.
    ‘Good. I’ll get his breeches off after
we’ve dealt with this.’ Launceston dipped a towel in the hot water and skillfully
swabbed the wound. ‘I think you’ve stopped the bleeding. Here, fold this napkin
into a tight wad.’ She did so and held it in place while he bound torn strips
of what looked like a linen petticoat around Parry’s chest, holding the
dressing in place.
    ‘You’d better leave while I finish undressing
him,’ said Launceston as he settled Parry back on the