Free An Unexpected Gift by Katherine Grey Page A

all? Taking advantage of those who could ill afford proper medical care? Will took the stairs two at a time. He reached the top just in time to see the two women disappear into a room near the end of the hall. He quickened his stride.
    Stopping in the doorway of the room, which from the décor could only be the library, he took in the scene before him. Elaborate cabinets with glass doors guarded rows upon rows of books. A plush blue carpet lay underfoot while matching drapery hung at the two windows on the far side of the room. A fire burned low in the hearth.
    Olivia stood near a credenza, sorting the folded linen into small piles while Ellie hovered in the background. Will spied a sideboard with various decanters. Olivia may not need a brandy any longer, but he did.
    “Stop!”
    Will froze. He’d taken no more than a few steps into the room when she shouted the command. He watched her weave her way across the room as though she was walking around objects in her path.
    She stopped in front of him, her gaze roaming over him. “Are you injured?”
    He looked at her. His bullet wound was healing, but she knew that. “I do not believe so,” he answered carefully.
    She let out a sigh of relief. “Oh. Then you must be here to help.”
    “I...” Will didn’t know what to say. She acted as though she had no idea who he was or why he was there.
    She pulled him along behind her as she threaded her way back to the waiting piles of linen. Placing a handful of the folded squares in his hand, she glanced around. “Here, this man needs pressure applied to his wound.” Olivia walked away.
    Will stared after her. What man? The room was empty save for the two of them and the maid.
    Olivia stopped and looked back at him. “Hurry.” She turned away only to look at him once more. “You don’t suffer from the vapors at the sight of blood, do you?”
    Not certain what was happening, he shook his head. She moved back to where he stood and grasped his wrist, leading him to a spot a few feet away. Taking a few of the linen squares from him, she pressed them down against nothing but thin air.
    “This will help stop the bleeding. Do not worry about hurting him. You must keep pressure on the wound.” She placed his hand over hers, then slid hers out from underneath.
    Will grabbed at the cloth, not wanting it to fall to the floor. He worried how she would react if that happened. He looked over at her. She smiled and nodded and moved off to help another man who didn’t exist. He wasn’t certain how long he stared at her as she moved around the room, applying bandages and sewing wounds that only she could see.
    A tap on his arm drew his attention. The maid stood near him, a wad of linen in her hand.
    “Ellie—”
    “Bridget. Me name is Bridget.”
    “What’s wrong with Miss St. Germaine?”
    “I don’t know. She acts like this sometimes when it be stormy.”
    “Ellie.”
    Bridget jumped and turned away. “Yes, Mum?” she asked, hurrying to her mistress’s side, though mindful enough to move around the imaginary cots of wounded men.
    “I...” Olivia blinked, gave a slight shake of her head, then looked down at her hands.
    The faint sound of thunder in the distance drew her gaze to the window. She bit her lip. “It happened again, didn’t it?” she whispered.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Bridget said in a somber voice.
    Olivia glanced around the room, her gaze settling on Will. He returned her gaze. He heard tales of men returning from war who relived the experiences they suffered there. Could that be what happened here? Her cheekbones flushed with color, and she turned away.
    “Will you help me to my bedchamber?” she asked.
    Bridget put her arm around Olivia and led her from the room. She looked back over her shoulder, her gaze pleading.
    Will nodded. He would keep her secret.
    “Should I be asking Mr. Jennings to bring ye a wee bit of brandy to help ye sleep?” Bridget guided Olivia out of the room.
    “That might be best.”