Page 89 of Mesmerized

“Rafe carried you,” Belinda answered. “He sent for me to look after you, and he went back to stay with Stephen.”

“Stephen!” Olivia gasped and swung her feet off the bed, about to stand up. “Where is he? Is he—”

“He’s alive,” Belinda assured her quickly. “We sent for the doctor. Rafe had some of the footmen carry him to his bed. He—he’s still unconscious.”

“I must go to him.”

“No. Wait. You are too weak,” Belinda protested.

Olivia ignored her, getting out of bed. “I am fine. I fainted, that’s all.”

“But you should rest—” A single look from Olivia silenced her, and she followed Olivia out the door.

Olivia strode down the hallway and into Stephen’s room. She stopped just inside the door at the sight of him. His eyes were closed, and his face was as pale as the sheets. Her heart hammered in her chest. She went closer to the bed, looking across it to Rafe.

He shook his head at her, saying, “He hasn’t awakened yet. It looks like he got quite a blow to the head.” He gestured toward the side of Stephen’s face, where bruises were beginning to form on his cheek.

“I bandaged him up,” Rafe went on. “You get pretty good at that kind of thing out in the mountains, where there’s no doctor around. The blood stopped flowing, at least.”

Lady St. Leger sat on the other side of the bed, looking pale and worried. Rafe pulled up another chair for Olivia, and she sat down, her eyes fixed on Stephen.

The minutes passed by at a nerve-racking slow pace. At last the doctor came and shooed everyone but Rafe out of the room, saying that he might need the other man’s help. The constable arrived, as well, and took Olivia into another room to ask her a seemingly endless number of questions. She answered abstractedly, her mind on Stephen and what was going on in his room.

When at last she was able to return to his side, she found the doctor gone and Stephen still sleeping in his bed. Lady St. Leger, who was once again seated beside his bed, said, “Dr. Hartfield patched him up. He said he should be all right. By some miracle, the blade apparently missed both his heart and his lungs.”

“Thank God.”

“He gave him laudanum for the pain.”

Stephen continued to sleep through the evening and into the night, whether from the concussion he had received or from the laudanum, Olivia was not sure. She could not leave his bedside. What if he were to die from this? She did not think she could bear to live if he did.

It was in the pale light of dawn that Stephen finally stirred, his head rolling from one side to the other on his pillow.

Olivia, watching him, leaned forward hopefully. She put her hand over his where it lay on the counterpane and whispered, “Stephen...my love...”

She recalled then that his mother was also in the room, and she glanced across the bed. Lady St. Leger was asleep, her head lolling against the wing of the chair.

Stephen’s hand turned under hers, and his fingers curled around her palm. His eyes fluttered open.

“Stephen!” Olivia had to swallow back the lump in her throat. “My lady, he is awake.”

Stephen gazed at Olivia, his eyes hazy, and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Hello.” He started to sit up, then winced with pain. “Ow! What the devil? Oh. Oh!” His eyes widened, and he stared at Olivia. “My God! Olivia! Are you all right? Where is Irina?” He glanced about as if he expected her to still be lurking about somewhere.

“She is dead. I killed her.”

He tried to rise again and sank back against the pillows, biting back an oath. “What did she do to me?”

“She stabbed you in the back,” Olivia said.

“Oh, darling!” On the other side of the bed, Lady St. Leger dabbed her handkerchief at her eyes. “Thank goodness! Dr. Hartfield said you would be all right, but I was so afraid you would not wake up.”

“The last thing I remember was Irina swinging that box at my head.”

“She connected,” Olivia told him. “Then she came after me and tried to strangle me again.”

“She was so strong!” Stephen marveled.