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“No!” she cried as a shot rang out.

Hearing her voice, William turned in time to watch the woman he loved crumple to the ground.

“Elizabeth!” he shouted, as he rushed to kneel beside her, ignoring any danger to himself. “You cannot die! You promised me forever!”

When her eyes rolled back, he tore open her pelisse to locate the source of blood staining her left shoulder. Upon seeing how quickly the blood was flowing from a wound there, he began tugging at his cravat to use it as a bandage.

As he did, he begged, “No! God, please do not take her from me!”

Another shot rang out concurrently with his cry—this one hitting James Morgan right between the eyes. William glanced over in time to see Richard holster his weapon and shout orders to two officers nearby, instructing them to deal with Morgan’s body.

As William’s gaze returned to the one he loved, Mr. Graham appeared out of nowhere kneeling beside him. “Please, Mr. Darcy, let me examine the wound.”

Whilst William moved aside to let the doctor take charge, he continued trying to remove his cravat. He had just managed that task, however, when he heard Graham suck in his breath at the sight of the injury. Realising that was not a good omen, he could not suppress a groan when Graham ordered, “Hand me my bag.”

Richard reached for the black bag Mr. Graham had dropped nearby and handed it to him. Instantly, Mr. Graham pulled out a muslin bag holding what looked to be a powder. Taking a handful, he placed it on the wound. “I have been consulting with the Army’s physicians to create something to prevent wounds from bleeding out. So far, this powder has proved somewhat useful.”

Then, reaching for William’s cravat, he pressed it against the wound, saying, “We must get her to my office straightaway.” Though William longed to take Elizabeth back to Darcy House, the doctor’s office was only two streets away, so he raised no argument.

To Lydia, who was kneeling at Elizabeth’s head, Mr. Graham said, “Will you try to hold this bandage in place whilst Mr. Darcy lifts Miss Bennet?” Too upset to speak, Lydia only nodded.

Feeling useless, Richard asked, “What can I do, Darcy?”

“Since you are one of the few who knows how to extend the seat in my carriage to fashion a bed, please ready it whilst I carry Elizabeth.”

After reaching the carriage, William laid her down gently on the makeshift bed and sat beside her, holding her hand. Lydia knelt on the floor beside Elizabeth, continuing to press down on the cravat to stem the flow of blood. That left no room for anyone else, and with no occupation, Jane could do nothing but watch helplessly.

Unfortunately, she chose that moment to insert herself into the matter, claiming that, as the eldest, she should be handling Elizabeth’s care. William ignored her, as did Lydia, which left Richard to settle the matter.

Pulling Jane a few feet away from the carriage, as the vehicle began to move, he calmly stated, “This is not the time, Lady Morgan. I beg you, stand aside and let Darcy take the lead. He will make certain Miss Elizabeth is given every opportunity to survive.”

Knowing he spoke the truth, Jane acquiesced and left her sister to Mr. Darcy’s care. After all, she had been astonished to witness his devotion to Elizabeth when he believed she might die. Even though they were in public, he unashamedly knelt beside her to declare his love. That moment was when she accepted the truth of his devotion to her sister. Knowing how unkind her past behaviour had been towards him and Elizabeth, she trembled to realise she might have missed her chance to apologise for her conduct.

For now, all she could do was wait and pray that Elizabeth lived to hear her apologies.

Chapter 27

Graham’s office

The next morning

Bertram Graham felt as though he had just closed his eyes when his wife, Marjorie, came to wake him early the next day. “Bertie, you asked me to wake you before I lay down to rest.”

“Give me a moment,” he murmured, sitting up and placing his feet on the floor. Then, rubbing his neck, he groaned as he stretched, saying, “She has not awakened yet, has she?”

There was no need to specify who she was, for there was no other patient being cared for in their office presently than Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who had been shot the day before and almost died of blood loss before he could get her to his office.

“No. She is still unresponsive. I imagine whatever you gave her for the pain when you removed the bullet may keep her that way for a good while longer.”

“Actually, I only used a dressing on the wound to alleviate the pain. I gave her no laudanum because she was unconscious, and I wished to see if the pain might stir her. Giving her medication would have had the opposite effect. In any case, we must try to wake her today and get her to take some water or broth.”

Graham rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, then stood and walked into the dressing room that adjoined their bedroom, which occupied a portion of the top floor of the old home they had purchased as an office. Warm water already filled the bowl on the counter where he washed before going downstairs each day; subsequently, he bent over it to splash water on his face. Grabbing a towel next to the bowl, he dried his face whilst peering at himself in the mirror.

“I do not think washing my face has made me any prettier,” he said sardonically. “I still look as though I am twice my age.”

Marjorie chuckled at his tease. With the life-or-death situations her husband dealt with almost daily, they tried to maintain a cheerful attitude instead of letting the strain of his position crush them.

Giving him a closer look, she raised one finger to her chin as though in thought, saying, “Hmm. I would say you look three times your age! Still, it is nothing that a good night’s rest will not cure. After all, you had only three hours of sleep last night.”