Damsel In Distress?. Kristina O'Grady
It appears to be a label of some kind.”
Cressandra stepped closer and leaned in, her thigh pressing against the doctor’s back as he knelt on the floor before his patient. She peered cautiously around his shoulder at the label he was holding for her inspection.
“No, doctor, my modiste uses nothing such as that. Perhaps some of the others label their creations. I could ask around if you would so desire.”
Cressandra looked at her brother, but Philip shook his head. He didn’t need society’s curiosity piqued in his direction. Not any more than it already was.
Cressandra stepped back from the doctor. Philip glanced back at his sister and saw she was wringing her hands in distress, a sure sign she was soon to faint. “Cressandra, see if you can get Mrs Johnson to bring some warm water and towels. This lady is still bleeding.”
“Of course, Philip.” She turned and strode from the room. She would be better with something to do.
“You had better start your tale, my lord.” Dr Brown looked closely at Harriet. He gently forced her good eye open and passed a candle back and forth in front of her face. “You can start now, my lord.”
“Of course, of course. Um, I was just, um, gathering my thoughts.” Philip tore his eyes from the swell of her breasts peeking at him from under the rip in the front of her dress. He shouldn’t be looking at her bare skin, not with her like this. He tore his eyes away, took a deep breath, and started from the beginning. “I was walking home through the park when I saw four riders…”
“My lord?”
Philip looked up from the papers on his desk, not that he was able to concentrate on them with an unconscious woman in the guest bedroom upstairs; a woman who at this very moment seemed to be dying. The fact that she hadn’t regained consciousness since this morning was not encouraging at all. Dr Brown had called in several times through the course of the day and each time he left, his demeanour was more sullen than the last. Philip was not looking forward to the long, sleepless night ahead. He should go to bed early but he had a suspicion he would spend the night in the chair next to her bed. If she was going to die, he’d be damned if she’d do it all alone.
“Yes, Charles? What is it?”
The butler walked into the room cautiously as though he would rather be anywhere else than standing at his master’s doorway. “Mrs Johnson and Rebecca found these on the lady’s person when they prepared her for bed.” Charles held out a packet and gingerly placed it on top of Philip’s desk. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s covered in blood.”
“I see.” And he did, the parchment was soaked through and the writing on the outside was almost illegible. “Why was it not brought to my attention earlier, Charles?”
“They found them only an hour ago, my lord, and were unsure what course of action to take, but since it appears the lady may not last the night, we thought it best to deliver them to you straight away.” Charles uncharacteristically wrung his hands together before he noticed what he was doing and quickly shoved them behind his back to reclaim his proper butler posture.
“What do you mean, they only found them an hour ago? Wasn’t she removed of her clothing this morning for her examination by Dr Brown?”
“Yes, my lord, indeed she was but it was only while Mrs Johnson was disposing of her garments that she noticed something sewn into the corset. She of course immediately, carefully retrieved the packet, but was then unsure what course of action to take.”
“So you already said, Charles. It is very unlike you to repeat yourself.” Philip leaned the chair back until it balanced on the back legs, and he propped his feet onto his desk. “It’s a mystery to me as to why it took Mrs Johnson so long to turn the packet over to me. I am the head of this household, am I not, Charles?”
“Yes, my lord,” Charles mumbled.
“And as such, I should be made aware of everything of importance under my roof and finding a secret, blood-covered packet sewn into a dying woman’s undergarments is of great importance.” Philip swung his feet off his desk and let his chair fall forward with a thump. “Don’t you think so, Charles?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So tell me again why Mrs Johnson refrained from coming to me directly after finding this packet?” He swept his hand before the bloody lump on his desk.
“I am afraid I don’t know, sir.”
Philip let out his breath in a great huff. “Very well, Charles, that will be all.”
The butler bowed and quickly left the room.
He knew he should bring his staff to toe the line. He didn’t enjoy torturing them and clearly Charles couldn’t read Mrs Johnson’s mind. Philip would bring the matter up with her tomorrow. Right now he had to see to his guest.
Philip stared at the sodden paper for a moment before working up the courage to pick it up. It was her blood that soiled the paper. He knew she bled from her injuries, but to hold the evidence in his hand was something else entirely.
He turned the paper over to examine the seal. There wasn’t one. He turned the packet over again, but there was no seal anywhere. There was something holding it together and he could only assume it wasn’t all the blood. It would’ve been sealed with something when it was placed in her clothing.
He ran his fingers over the paper. There. There was an edge near the top. He worked his fingernail under the edge and worked the packet open. He peered inside. The blood had seeped into the papers enfolded in the wrapping as well. He cautiously shook them out, careful not to tear the damp pages. He unfolded them and spread them out on his desk. Where there wasn’t a seal on the outer packet there was one on the bottom of each page. A silver disk shone up through the blood.
It was unfamiliar. A bear stood menacingly on its hind legs but held a flower in its right paw. Philip took a piece of paper and placed it over one of the disks to make a rub with some charcoal, so that he could remember it exactly if he needed to. Considering that a woman was shot at carrying these papers, he had a strong suspicion he would need all the clues he could get.
As he placed the charcoal to the paper, his office door opened again, this time without a knock.
“Dr Brown. Is everything all right?”
“I found a bullet hole. While initially I agreed that we should keep as much information that may upset the lady from her, now I believe we will have to tell her all that you know. She will be sure to notice a hole in her side. Did your butler bring you the packet?”
“Yes.” He pointed to his desk. “It’s here.”
“Do you know what it contains?” Dr Brown stepped closer to the desk to have a look.
“No, the blood has made it impossible to decipher.”
Dr Brown only grunted in reply.
“Where was the bullet hole?” Philip wondered why he was just being told of it now. “I would think that with the amount of time it took us to get here, she would have bled to death.”
“Oh, it was just a glancing blow, as though it had hit something else first, perhaps. I suspect her corset took the brunt of the remaining force. I believe one of two for the whalebones where broken”
“The horse probably took the shot.”
“Yes, the horse. Are you planning on keeping this all secret? You realise of course the animal is still lying out in the middle of Hyde Park and is sure to have attracted attention by now. If you were hoping to find some clue from the scene, it will all be lost by now. Imagine the amount of spectators gathered there today.”
Philip was finding the conversation difficult to follow, not because he was a slow man without much wit, but the shock of the whole