Free Christmas Bliss by A. S. Fenichel Page A

nothing.

Chapter Six
     
    John woke from his bed to find his new wife missing. He
smiled, pulled on his trousers, shirt and shoes and got up to go and find her
in the garden. He was halfway down the steps when he heard shouting from the
back of the house. He ran the rest of the way. His heart beat as if he’d been
running for days.
    Footmen appeared in the hall and ran toward the garden.
    John followed.
    Angry male voices emanated from the maze. John ran through
the coating of snow. Emma’s wool wrapper lay in the snow at the first turn. He
didn’t notice the cold as he made his way to the fountain at the center.
    If he’d found a dozen soldiers ready to besiege the house,
it would have been less of a shock than the scene that he beheld. The Bow
Street runner he’d hired grappled with a bloody-faced Drake Trent, while Emma
lay immobile in the snow.
    John ignored the fight and ran to his wife. Her skin was
pale as linen and her eyes, though open, did not focus. One side of her face
had been bruised badly and her eye was swollen shut. Her throat, which he had
kissed a dozen times, was purple and red.
    ��Emma, stay with me,” John cried.
    A blur of white descended to his right. “John, I shall send
for the doctor,” his mother said.
    “My lord, perhaps you can carry Emma inside,” Emma’s aunt
said.
    John didn’t know what to think. He did as Fiona said and
lifted Emma’s lifeless body into his arms. She was freezing and he pulled her
close.
    When he turned, four footmen and the Bow Street runner were
all trying to subdue Trent. In an instant, they surged forward and Trent lost
his footing. He fell backward against the stone fountain. There was a terrible
thud and Drake Trent lay perfectly still with five men atop him.
    John walked past and out through the maze.
    Fiona followed closely at his right. She directed him up the
stairs of the house. “Put her in bed. We need to get her warm. It’s all we can
do until the doctor arrives.”
    John did as he was told. He watched as her aunt and the maid
pulled the wet nightclothes from the limp body of his wife. Emma’s eyes were
closed. She barely resembled Emma with the bruises, blue lips and pale skin.
She looked as if death was only moments away. John’s chest squeezed painfully.
    They ignored him standing to one side as they pulled another
gown on her body. Emma moaned when her maid touched her neck to tie the top.
The maid cringed and left the strings untied.
    Once she was wrapped in blankets and propped up on pillows,
Fiona ordered warm towels and the maid ran from the room.
    “Miss Poole,” John said from the shadows.
    Fiona turned. Her eyes were wide with surprise. “My lord,
you should not be in here. You should go and wait in the library. I will tell
you if there is a change.”
    “I would like a few minutes with my wife, please.”
    She looked nervously from him to her niece. “Of course, my
lord. The water will take some time to warm. Stay with her until the doctor
arrives.”
    Once he was alone with Emma, he climbed into the bed and
wrapped her body in his arms. He kissed her cheek. Freezing.
    He tugged at the blankets that had been tucked around her
and slipped under, pressing his warm body flush against hers. The chill of her
skin seeped through her bedclothes and his blouse and trousers. He shivered,
but pulled her close to him.
    She moaned, but he could make out no words.
    “Emma, My love, you are forbidden to leave me. I need you,
don’t you see? If you could make a bit of an effort…” The words stuck in his
throat and moisture built in his eyes, spilled out and ran freely down his
cheek. He hadn’t wept since he was a boy. Someone might enter the room at any
moment and find him under the covers with his sick wife. They would think him
mad or worse. He didn’t care. He wanted to give her his warmth, his life if
need be. “You are the best thing for this all-too-serious politician. Oliver
needs you too. I don’t know what I must say to