Husband Wanted (HC #1)

4: A Name for the Stranger

The night seemed to pass all too slowly for Beth. She lay awake, staring at the gap in her curtains to watch the storm clouds clear, and counting her heartbeats in an effort to lull herself into slumber. She succumbed twice, but was awoken by nightmares each time. The first was simply her memory of finding the man, his battered face upturned to her when she'd glanced down at her shoes. He must have been propped against the door, yet they'd not heard him topple in the violent storm. She'd thought him dead and she awoke upright in her bed, sheets twisted around her feet.

The second nightmare was far worse, for her imagination had run riot. She dreamt not of his injuries, but how he acquired them. In the dream she was restrained, held back yet forced to watch the stranger fall to punches, flinch beneath cuts and finally scream as a solid kick took his knee out to the side unnaturally. She'd made the mistake of glancing up as her brothers had helped carry the man past her the previous evening and had seen the bloody leg the footman was attempting not to jostle. A single glance in reality, but a montage of breaks and fractures and dismemberments in her nightmare.

When light began to press through the crack in her curtains, Beth gave up on sleep altogether. Swinging her legs out of bed, she took her housecoat from its hook, fixing it firmly around her waist before she emerged from her room. She would normally not leave without at least a day dress and her hair fixed, but she was neither going to wait for nor wake Katherine. All she needed, she argued, was to confirm that the man was not dead. Perhaps then he would stop haunting her.

The house was almost completely silent, the only sound her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floorboards. At the top of the stairs she stopped, gaze drawn to the front door. Her heart began to race. Very deliberately, she straightened her spine, raised her chin, and began the descent, unable to tear her eyes from the sight that had featured prominently in her nightmare. At the bottom she was glad to turn from it, and hurried to the servants' corridor.

The next door she faced, the entry to the room the stranger had been taken to, was also intimidating. This was improper; to be alone in a room with a man, let alone a complete stranger, was indecent as best! But she had to know, so she pushed her way inside.

She couldn't have said whether she was happy or disappointed to find Bart sitting within. He met her eyes, mild surprise registering in the raise of his brow, but he cautioned her with a finger against his lips. Phil was curled in his lap, her head resting against this shoulder and her legs hanging over the arm of the chair. As she looked around the room, Beth noticed that a cot had also been set up against one wall, with a form she presumed to be the doctor gently snoring away atop it.

Closing the door softly behind her, she moved to Bart's side.

"How does he fare?" she asked quietly, settling to her knees beside him.

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "His leg is broken and he's covered in cuts and bruises, but Doctor Williams says he will live."

Some of the tension drifted out of her shoulders and a relieved smile curled on her face. "I am glad."

Bart gave her another squeeze. "If you do not mind waiting here a while, I might carry this one up to her bed." He ducked his chin towards the lump in his lap. He saw concern enter her eyes. "You will not have to do anything. If he stirs, simply wake the doctor."

She glanced behind her, eyeing each of the prone men carefully. Both looked deeply asleep. She was nodding before she'd even consciously decided. Her brother smiled and promised to return shortly. Looping one hand under Phil's knees and the other behind her shoulders, Bart lifted their sister with ease. Beth stood with him, moving slightly ahead to open the door. She closed it behind him, resting her forehead against the wood and taking a deep breath. Then she turned and stepped quickly to the injured man's side before good-sense overcame her curiosity.