the woman gently but her head just lolled on her neck. Her eyes stayed closed. “Please hurry,” he whispered.
At the startled sound that came from beside the door, Philip looked up in time to see his sister become aware of the state the woman in his arms was in. Her indignation deflated before his eyes.
“What’s happened?” She took a few steps towards them but seemed unsure what to do and stopped halfway across the room.
“She fell.” Before Cressandra could ask any more questions, a man strode purposefully into the room, Charles following at his heels. Philip knew Charles would be mortified the doctor entered the room without being properly announced, but Philip didn’t have time to care about the aging butler’s sensibilities.
“Where’s the patient?” Dr Brown was a tall man with a bushy moustache and a large smile. If he happened to have a beard as well and dressed in red, one would be forgiven for thinking he was none other than Father Christmas. The only problem with that being was he was actually fairly young, mid-thirties perhaps, and possessed not a single grey hair. But his cheeks were rosy and his belly protruded merrily beneath his clothing.
“What has happened to the poor dear?” Cressandra asked again. “Why is she covered in blood? Is she dead?” She took another tentative step closer.
Philip ignored his sister and addressed the doctor. “I would prefer for you to hear the whole story in order to help her as best you can, but before I start, you should begin examining her. She had a very nasty fall off a horse and a blow to the head. She was unconscious when I reached her, but woke up fairly quickly. It is only now she has fallen back to sleep.”
“And when did this occur?” Dr Brown asked while he felt for a pulse on her wrist.
“I was on my way home just before daylight when I came upon them.”
“Them?” Dr Brown looked up from his patient.
“There were three others. They caused this.” Philip waved his hand at the woman, indicating the injuries she had received.
“Where are they now?”
Philip shrugged.
The doctor quickly undid the buttons of her pelisse and eased it off her shoulders and down her arms. “Do you know her name?” Brown asked, not looking up from his task.
Philip shook his head. “Only that her Christian name is Harriet. She was unable to recall the others.”
Dr Brown paused in his ministrations and examined her dress. “This is most odd. Miss, come closer please,” he called to Cressandra. “I would like you to have a look at this garment.” The doctor lifted a piece of white fabric that was sewn to the top underside of the pelisse to show her. “Are you familiar with these? It appears to be a label of some kind.”
Cressandra stepped closer and leaned in, her thigh pressing against the doctor’s back as he knelt on the floor before his patient. She peered cautiously around his shoulder at the label he was holding for her inspection.
“No, doctor, my modiste uses nothing such as that. Perhaps some of the others label their creations. I could ask around if you would so desire.”
Cressandra looked at her brother, but Philip shook his head. He didn’t need society’s curiosity piqued in his direction. Not any more than it already was.
Cressandra stepped back from the doctor. Philip glanced back at his sister and saw she was wringing her hands in distress, a sure sign she was soon to faint. “Cressandra, see if you can get Mrs Johnson to bring some warm water and towels. This lady is still bleeding.”
“Of course, Philip.” She turned and strode from the room. She would be better with something to do.
“You had better start your tale, my lord.” Dr Brown looked closely at Harriet. He gently forced her good eye open and passed a candle back and forth in front of her face. “You can start now, my lord.”
“Of course, of course. Um, I was just, um, gathering my thoughts.” Philip tore his eyes from the swell of her breasts peeking at him from under the rip in the front of her dress. He shouldn’t be looking at her bare skin, not with her like this. He tore his eyes away, took a deep breath, and started from the beginning. “I was walking home through the park when I saw four riders…”
“My lord?”
Philip looked up from the papers on his desk, not that he was able to concentrate on them with an unconscious woman in the guest bedroom upstairs; a woman who at this very moment seemed to be dying. The fact that she hadn’t regained consciousness since this morning was not encouraging at all. Dr Brown had called in several times through the course of the day and each time he left, his demeanour was more sullen than the last. Philip was not looking forward to the long, sleepless night ahead. He should go to bed early but he had a suspicion he would spend the night in the chair next to her bed. If she was going to die, he’d be damned if she’d do it all alone.
“Yes, Charles? What is it?”
The butler walked into the room cautiously as though he would rather be anywhere else than standing at his master’s doorway. “Mrs Johnson and Rebecca found these on the lady’s person when they prepared her for bed.” Charles held out a packet and gingerly placed it on top of Philip’s desk. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s covered in blood.”
“I see.” And he did, the parchment was soaked through and the writing on the outside was almost illegible. “Why was it not brought to my attention earlier, Charles?”
“They found them only an hour ago, my lord, and were unsure what course of action to take, but since it appears the lady may not last the night, we thought it best to deliver them to you straight away.” Charles uncharacteristically wrung his hands together before he noticed what he was doing and quickly shoved them behind his back to reclaim his proper butler posture.
“What do you mean, they only found them an hour ago? Wasn’t she removed of her clothing this morning for her examination by Dr Brown?”
“Yes, my lord, indeed she was but it was only while Mrs Johnson was disposing of her garments that she noticed something sewn into the corset. She of course immediately, carefully retrieved the packet, but was then unsure what course of action to take.”
“So you already said, Charles. It is very unlike you to repeat yourself.” Philip leaned the chair back until it balanced on the back legs, and he propped his feet onto his desk. “It’s a mystery to me as to why it took Mrs Johnson so long to turn the packet over to me. I am the head of this household, am I not, Charles?”
“Yes, my lord,” Charles mumbled.
“And as such, I should be made aware of everything of importance under my roof and finding a secret, blood-covered packet sewn into a dying woman’s undergarments is of great importance.” Philip swung his feet off his desk and let his chair fall forward with a thump. “Don’t you think so, Charles?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So tell me again why Mrs Johnson refrained from coming to me directly after finding this packet?” He swept his hand before the bloody lump on
