Damsel In Distress?. Kristina O'Grady
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Damsel In Distress? - Kristina O'Grady страница 6

Название: Damsel In Distress?

Автор: Kristina O'Grady

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия:

isbn: 9781474007511

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ let out his breath in a great huff. “Very well, Charles, that will be all.”

      The butler bowed and quickly left the room.

      He knew he should bring his staff to toe the line. He didn’t enjoy torturing them and clearly Charles couldn’t read Mrs Johnson’s mind. Philip would bring the matter up with her tomorrow. Right now he had to see to his guest.

      Philip stared at the sodden paper for a moment before working up the courage to pick it up. It was her blood that soiled the paper. He knew she bled from her injuries, but to hold the evidence in his hand was something else entirely.

      He turned the paper over to examine the seal. There wasn’t one. He turned the packet over again, but there was no seal anywhere. There was something holding it together and he could only assume it wasn’t all the blood. It would’ve been sealed with something when it was placed in her clothing.

      He ran his fingers over the paper. There. There was an edge near the top. He worked his fingernail under the edge and worked the packet open. He peered inside. The blood had seeped into the papers enfolded in the wrapping as well. He cautiously shook them out, careful not to tear the damp pages. He unfolded them and spread them out on his desk. Where there wasn’t a seal on the outer packet there was one on the bottom of each page. A silver disk shone up through the blood.

      It was unfamiliar. A bear stood menacingly on its hind legs but held a flower in its right paw. Philip took a piece of paper and placed it over one of the disks to make a rub with some charcoal, so that he could remember it exactly if he needed to. Considering that a woman was shot at carrying these papers, he had a strong suspicion he would need all the clues he could get.

      As he placed the charcoal to the paper, his office door opened again, this time without a knock.

      “Dr Brown. Is everything all right?”

      “I found a bullet hole. While initially I agreed that we should keep as much information that may upset the lady from her, now I believe we will have to tell her all that you know. She will be sure to notice a hole in her side. Did your butler bring you the packet?”

      “Yes.” He pointed to his desk. “It’s here.”

      “Do you know what it contains?” Dr Brown stepped closer to the desk to have a look.

      “No, the blood has made it impossible to decipher.”

      Dr Brown only grunted in reply.

      “Where was the bullet hole?” Philip wondered why he was just being told of it now. “I would think that with the amount of time it took us to get here, she would have bled to death.”

      “Oh, it was just a glancing blow, as though it had hit something else first, perhaps. I suspect her corset took the brunt of the remaining force. I believe one of two for the whalebones where broken”

      “The horse probably took the shot.”

      “Yes, the horse. Are you planning on keeping this all secret? You realise of course the animal is still lying out in the middle of Hyde Park and is sure to have attracted attention by now. If you were hoping to find some clue from the scene, it will all be lost by now. Imagine the amount of spectators gathered there today.”

      Philip was finding the conversation difficult to follow, not because he was a slow man without much wit, but the shock of the whole morning was beginning to catch up with him, not to mention the amount he’d had to drink the night before. The image of the horse lying on the ground was enough to make bile rise in his throat. He swallowed a few times to avoid embarrassment. The image was something he had no wish to remember.

      “How is the patient?” Philip asked to change the topic.

      Dr Brown sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk and shook his head grimly. “It doesn’t look good. I had hoped she would have opened her eyes by now but she has yet to gain consciousness and with each passing hour it makes it more and more likely she will remain as she is. However there have been cases where victims have awoken weeks after being knocked out. Sometimes the body needs time to recover. Keep in mind, she had quite an ordeal this morning. If she does awake, it is likely she still won’t recall who she is.”

      “But you are of the opinion we should tell her about the attack?”

      “There is every chance the mentioning of such an event will jog her memory. There is just as much likelihood it won’t. But either way, don’t you think she should know someone wants her dead?”

       Chapter 7

      Harriet awoke with a vague sense of foreboding. She could remember snippets of details but mostly there was only empty space inside her head. Emotions waged war with each other as she fought to regain her memory. Fear weighed like a ball in her stomach, which in turn held her in place and yet overwhelmed her with the desire to run. But she could barely lift her head off the pillow. The pillow being covered in silk was not the point. Her body ached as though she had been run over by a coach; all her muscles were stiff.

      The room she was in was unfamiliar, although it was luxurious and smelled of lavender. She had fallen asleep in a drawing room and now she was lying on a bed…a very comfy bed. She snuggled down into the mattress; this was no ordinary mattress, but a down-filled one. Heaven. She wiggled further down and pulled the covers right up to her nose. Light danced on the walls opposite the window and cast shadows of tree leaves moving gently in the breeze. White curtains swayed in and out the window. A bee buzzed into the room, probably attracted by the bunch of flowers placed on the small table beside her bed.

      She turned her head to take in the rest of the room.

      A small squeak escaped her lips. A man was sitting next to her bed, sprawled actually; the chair in which he was sitting was overwhelmed by his large frame. He was asleep and she admonished herself for not noticing the soft snores coming from his lips when she awoke. He was beautiful. His blond hair was cut short, probably shorter than the current fashion, but there was a hint of curl in the ends that lay next to his scalp. His nose was like a Greek god’s, the slight crook at the top indicating it had been broken before. His eyes were framed by dark eyelashes; most unusual considering his hair was so light, she knew several women who would kill for eyelashes such as his…

      She knew women? She tried to grasp their names and hold them in her mind, but before their images fully formed, they slipped away, leaving only frustration in their wake.

      Her eyes strayed back to the table holding the flowers.

      Harriet was suddenly aware of how thirsty she was. Her lips stuck to one another and her tongue felt fat and swollen in her mouth. She stared longingly at the pitcher of water sitting beside the flowers. She stretched her hand out as far as she could reach but she didn’t even manage to reach across the whole bed, let alone the table beside it. Why couldn’t she lift her head? Maybe she could shimmy across the bed, closer to the water. Why were her muscles so uncooperative? She could barely manage to lift her leg. This was ridiculous! She moaned out loud in frustration.

      The man’s eyes blinked open. A smile slid across his lips when he saw her. “You’re awake.”

      Harriet slowly, painfully (why was her head so sore?) turned to look towards the deep voice. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her.

      She smiled in return, how could СКАЧАТЬ