The Willow's Diamond (on a break)

Chapter 18

⚠️(Talk of blood, weapon, etc)

Screams echoed through the entryway, from whom was unknown. It could have just been one, or it could have been multiple.
Grace was frozen.
Servants rushed to the children's father, but all she could do was stand there and watch blankly, as they confirmed their father was dead.
"ROBERT!" James shouted, noticing his closest friend bleed out not far from his father.
"Oh my god," Ashlynn cried, following James to the pillar where Robert lay. The liquid maroon smeared the tiles and pillar, it was a crime scene.
A traumatizing crime scene. If only Anthony Bridgerton could see what he's getting himself into now.
"GRACE!" James shouted, startling Grace out of her shocked state.
"What do we do? Who do we call? Who did this? Who would do this?" Ashlynn panics.
"Um, Okay, everyone, take a deep breath." She says, trying to calm herself as well, "Here's what we're going to do, Ashlynn, run across the street to the Huxleys, tell them we need a physician, and hurry. Uh, James, take this," Grace spoke, unclipping her cloak, "keep this on the wound and hold pressure, it will keep him from bleeding out and keep him talking!"
"My Lady! Come quick!" Izzy yelled as she stared down at a bloody kitchen knife near the study.
"Oh God, uh, leave that be for now. Our attention must be on Robert," Grace replied, not knowing what she should do. Does she hide the body? Wait till after the ball to handle this? or-
"Grace! Ashlynn fetched me. What's going on?" a petite woman with grey hair spoke, holding the hand of Ashlynn.
"Cathrine! Thank the lord, I don't know what to do. We came home from the Bridgertons and saw Papa dead in the entryway and Robert bleeding out close by. Please, please tell me what to do," she started to cry, walking up to Cathrine: a grandmother figure, when she was at her summer estate across the road before she headed to Spain for the winter.
"Breathe, child. I already had someone fetch a physician and a watchman I know," the sweet old woman spoke, soothing Grace and Ashlynn.
"GRACE!" James' voice rang out, catching the attention of the women.
Making their way over, they saw Robert slumped over, pale as fine linen.
"I was trying to keep him talking like you said, but then he just stopped," he cried as tears started to form.
"Ash, help me lay him on his back. I need to make sure he's still breathing," Grace instructs, pulling out a broken compact.
"What are you going to do with a broken compact?" Ashlynn sniffles.
"It'll show me if he is breathing. If the mirror fogs up, he's alive, if not..." she trailed off, putting the mirror up to Roberts's mouth, small uneven breaths of fog emerged on the mirror.
"Oh, thank god," Lady Huxley let out, motioning a cross across her body.
"Where the hell is that goddamn physician!" Grace yelled out,
"Izzy! get some clean sheets and a bottle of alcohol!"
"Right away, my lady," Izzy replies, hurrying off to get the supplies.
After Izzy comes back with the linens, they position them flat onto the ground and roll Robert onto it," Robert, this is going to hurt, brace yourself." Grace announces, ripping off a corner of a sheet and dowsing it in a bottle of bourbon, then applying it to the wound.
"AHHH!"
"Well, now we know he's alive," Ashlynn points out, as Grace is pressing down.
"James and Ash, grab the two ends of the sheet, tie them together, then pull tight on the count of three! Ready? One, two, three!" Grace shouts.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" A male voice from behind yells out. They all turn to the front door and see the physician.
"Doing your job clearly!" Grace yells back.
"How long-" the doctor starts to say, bending down at their father.
"He's dead. There's a gunshot wound to the chest, and I don't know. We just got home no more than twenty minutes ago."
"Where is your nearest guest room? I need to work,"
"Second door to the left up the stairs," James replied for Grace.
"Oh, lord..."
The next four hours were a blur. People were in and out, tears flowed, Robert laid in bed an inch from death, Grace had never seen so much fluid. It dribbled thick through the title, the bed linens, the mattress he was now laying in, everything. It stained her fingers red, and no matter how many times Grace ran her hands in the water bowl, scrubbing the skin of her hands until her knuckles cracked, but she still felt the blood staining her fingers.