Rules for Reforming a Rake(109)
Daisy closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Uncle George, what can we do to help?”
“Bring down my medical bag. I have it upstairs. Dillie, go wake Billings,” he said, referring to Graelem’s butler, “and tell him to wake the footmen. We’ll need to carry Graelem upstairs. Lily, wake Mrs. MacTavish. Her maids can clean up this unholy mess once Graelem is settled in one of the guest chambers.”
“A guest chamber, my arse!” Graelem struggled to rise, but the pain proved too great so he sank back on the cold marble floor. To Daisy’s relief, he seemed able to move his neck and back without difficulty. “I’ll sit beside Laurel. I want to be with her if she...”
He couldn’t continue, his fear of losing the woman he loved obviously outweighing the pain of an injured leg. Daisy knelt beside him. “Lie still, Graelem. Please. Laurel needs you to be strong for her. Are you dizzy? How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Seven,” he responded, ending with a “damn it.”
She’d held up only one hand. Five fingers. “Lie still. You need to give yourself another moment before you—”
“Fetch me a cane.” Once again, he attempted to rise. “There are two by the coatrack in the back hall.”
George forced him back down. “I’ll kick you in that injured leg of yours if you dare to move. The midwife may call for me at any moment and I won’t be able to rush up there until I’ve finished fixing you.”
Graelem appeared ready to protest, but Mrs. MacTavish, his efficient housekeeper, rushed to his side at that moment, followed by Billings and most of the staff. “Och! I thought I heard a noise, but I never dreamed t’would be the master falling down the stairs!”
“I didn’t fall down the stairs. I merely tripped on the first step,” he grumbled. “My leg’s not broken, perhaps the ankle’s twisted at worst.”
“We’ll need bandages to securely bind that ankle,” George said, his gaze never leaving Graelem’s leg. Daisy knew what the knit of her uncle’s brow meant. There could be a break, only Graelem would never admit it.
“Right away,” Mrs. MacTavish said, sending off two maids to attend to the chore.
Billings and several sturdy footmen carried Graelem upstairs as soon as his leg was bound, but he fought them when they tried to settle him in the guest quarters. “Laurel’s in bed, having your child,” Daisy reminded him. “They can’t carry you in there.”
He scowled at his footmen. “Put me down right here. I’ll walk into my chamber on my own, crawl on my hands and knees, if I must.”
Daisy ground her teeth in frustration. Did she believe her time away from the Farthingale residence would be quiet? Or that missing Gabriel would be foremost on her mind? At the moment, Gabriel’s mission seemed like a walk in the park compared with the problem she was about to have with Graelem.
He couldn’t be allowed in the birthing room. It simply wasn’t done.
There was also the problem of Laurel. One look at Graelem, and she’d climb out of bed to put her arms around him. Honestly! The pair were as stubborn as donkeys. Would she and Gabriel ever be this ridiculous? Surprisingly, she hoped so.
She met Graelem’s scowling countenance and let out a sigh. “I’ll try to convince Mrs. Peebles to let you in.”
“Just get me in there. I’ll take care of Mrs. Peebles.”
Thoughts of bludgeoning and murder swirled in Daisy’s head. Graelem would do anything to remain by Laurel’s side. She eyed him warily. “How?”
He cast her a wincing grin, seeming to read her thoughts. “Nothing violent, I promise. Doubling her fee ought to persuade her. I’ll triple it, if I must.”
Within the hour—though it was a long, unsettling hour—matters were once more under control. The maids had cleaned up the mess on the stairs and hallway, and Graelem’s ankle was bound.
Graelem was now seated by the hearth, but in full view of his wife’s bed. “If you move from there, I’ll beat the stuffing out of you,” George warned, then started for the door.
Daisy followed after him. “Uncle George, where are you going?”
He patted her gently on the shoulder. “I’ll be snoring in the guestroom should anyone need me. Graelem will be fine now that his leg is properly set and I’ve given him enough laudanum to dull his pain. As for Laurel,” he said, pausing to run a hand through his hair, “wake me in a few hours if the babe isn’t born yet. I’ll need to relieve Mrs. Peebles and it’s best I do it with a clear head.”
Daisy’s heart leapt into her throat. “I’m frightened.”