Court of Flowers (Sutherland Book 1)

PREVIEW: The Royal Circus

I. The Mystery of the Broken Spokes

NOVEMBER 1810

Aliya heard a crack.

Then another.

And before she knew it, she was on the air.

The moment was so vivid and slow that her mind managed to decipher what was happening before she landed back on the ground.

The sound that followed her landing was not like the first two because this time, it was accompanied by intense pain. The popping sound came from her left shoulder. The pain was all over.

The neighs of the distressed horse were muffled by her cry of pain as she rolled on her back in the middle of Maple Row. Her eyes squeezed tight, her teeth bare as she panted for breath. Her head rolled to the side, straining her neck. She cried some more as she tried to lift her arm and found that the motion merely caused her more pain. With her shaking right hand, she felt for her left arm and lifted it off the ground and in front of her with an anguished growl.

"My lady!" Carrie's voice shouted from across the street.

Aliya opened her eyes and blinked twice to clear her vision. Her stagecoach driver's lean structure enabled her to spring to her feet with ease and run over to Aliya and crouch over her in horror. "My lady! Are you all right? I will call for help at once!"

Aliya could only moan in response as she rolled her head skyward.

Passersby started to gather. People began to step out of their apartments. "My lady!" she heard Dorothy scream and she panicked. He turned her head and found the petite woman running toward her from the apartment.

"Go back!" she shouted at the woman who immediately skidded to a stop, eyes wide. "Go back!" she roared again, the pain was forgotten for a moment. Dorothy could not be seen with her. "Help is coming. Go back!"

Dorothy closed her mouth and nodded. Then she fled back to the apartment.

Aliya took a lungful of air and closed her eyes, shutting off the whispers around her.

"I do not know. I was looking at her because her beauty struck me and then a crack! The next moment her stagecoach was leaning to one side. Saw her thrown out of her seat! Oh, poor girl!" she heard one woman say.

"Did you see the wheel? They should have checked. Must be frail spokes!" she heard a man say with a cluck of his tongue.

"Help is coming, my lady." Carrie was back to her side. "Can you sit? Where do you hurt?"

She swallowed, wincing at the pain. "My arm," she said through gritted teeth. Carrie's eyes went to her arm and they widened with horror. "Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!"

Aliya stopped breathing. "What?"

Carrie did not reply and looked around. "Where is that hackney!" the woman cried out.

"Hackney! Step aside!" someone was shouting.

"Take her to Sinclair!" one woman said.

"Yes, Sinclair!"

"Can you move, my lady?" Carrie asked.

Aliya forced herself to sit up. "I landed on my hand. I did not hurt my back."

"Do you wish to go back to the apartment or—"

"No!" she snapped. "No. Let us go back to the villa."

"But—"

"The villa, Carrie."

Carrie sighed. "Very well."

At that moment, the hackney driver had reached Aliya's side. He took one look at her arm. "Nae, milady, ye need te go te Sinclair. Nae doctor's gonna fix this one."

Aliya finally took the courage to look down at her arm. "Carrie," she said, alarm rising to her throat. "Take me straight to Sinclair."

*****

Sinclair had three hospitals all over Sutherland. One in Coulway, Eynsworth, and Strait. Not only was it the best, but it was also the only hospital in the city of Strait that could offer the best care for Aliya's condition.

She had been given a concoction to numb the pain, but it was not enough for the mere sight of her bent left wrist stimulated Aliya's brain to feel the injury.

Carrie paced around the tiny room they were brought to, her boots clucking against the hardwood floors like a clock that reminded her of the amount of time they spent waiting.

A woman came in with a white lace mob cap and apron. "A doctor will come and see you in a moment, Lady Aliya."

"You have been here twice, madam, and have said the same thing," Carrie snapped before Aliya could open her mouth. "My mistress is in great pain!" She turned to Aliya. "We should have returned to the villa and called for a doctor."

Aliya shook her head. One of her friends had suffered an injury to the bone and she had to be brought to Sinclair, for all doctors in Sinclair did not do house visits. "Not every doctor is a bonesetter, Carrie," was all she could say. She turned to the other woman and asked, "Is there any way you can give me something more potent for the pain?"

"Of course," answered someone. This time, it was not a woman's voice.

Aliya's eyes snapped to the doorway to find a giant man striding toward them. He was not a heavyset man—he was just... large. And one look at him made Aliya doubt if they were indeed in Sinclair. The smell of brandy reached her nostrils, reminding her of a cheap tavern with this man coming closer toward her as its faithful patron. His long hair was too unkempt that the strands were sticking together. Aliya could only imagine the number of washes it would take to wash off the grease that accumulated there. His face was nowhere in sight because most of it was covered with an unbelievable mess of beard. If anything was fascinating on this man, it was his hazel eyes.

Nothing else.

"And who are you?" Aliya asked.

"You wanted something more potent," he said, standing before her. And before Aliya could move away at the smell of him, he slammed a bottle of brandy on the table. White teeth peeked through his beard. "The most potent of all. Can numb any pain."

Aliya heard Carrie scoff in disbelief behind the man. The woman with the mob cap had retreated out of the room. "Are you the doctor?" Aliya asked.

He blinked. "Yes. And I see you have a broken bone."

She took another lungful of air, stole the brandy a look, and rolled her eyes upward to glare at the giant before her. "Are you the only doctor?"

"No, of course not."

"Is there anyone else who can correct my injury?"

"Yes, of course."

"And who is that doctor?"

"St. Vincent, who else?" he asked, voice filled with certainty.

"Then I demand for this Dr. St. Vincent."

He rolled his hazel eyes and sighed. "Very well, one moment," he said. He turned on his heels and wobbled to and out of the door which he firmly closed behind him.

Carrie and Aliya shared an incredulous just as the door swung open again with a clash and they both jumped with a yelp.

Aliya scowled as the same man strode inside in an unstable gait toward them.

He bowed to his hips before her and said, "Oliver St. Vincent at your service, my lady."

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