Summerset Abbey: Spring Awakening (Summerset Abbey Trilogy) (20 page)

The drive to the hospital passed in a blur, and it seemed to Prudence as if only moments had passed since Victoria had stepped out of the motorcar and looked up at Prudence’s window. The hospital neighborhood seemed familiar, and seeing her quizzical glance, Victoria nodded. “The Bronsons lived near here. We used to go bicycling with the Bronson sisters, remember?”

Prudence remembered, but that wasn’t it. The connection came to her and her cheeks burned with shame. Near here, she had run into Sebastian, and after some angry words he had
kissed her and she had let him, even though she had been married to Andrew. It had never happened again and would never happen again. In fact, that incident helped her realize how much she truly loved her husband.

Who was at this very moment lying in a bed, missing his leg.

As they walked through the mansion-turned-hospital, she reminded herself not to break down in front of her husband.
Be brave
, she told herself.
Don’t let him see your horror, or how overwhelmed you feel at the prospect of caring for both a new baby and an invalid husband
. She just wanted to show him how much she loved him and how sorry she was that her actions had led to this unspeakably horrible fate.

The room Victoria led her into looked as if it had once been a music room or perhaps a sitting room. Seeing the iron beds and the bedpans against the red-and-gold silk wall coverings was obscene.

And then she saw nothing except Andrew. She wanted to scream his name and run to him, but instead walked sedately to his side. His eyes were closed and her heart wrenched to see how gaunt he’d become. His fine muscular body, honed by years of farmwork, lay wasted under the thin blankets. She tried not to look at the place where his leg should be. Her own legs trembled and she sank to her knees onto the floor next to the low bed. Gently, carefully, she traced the veins on the top of his hand. When he didn’t move, she picked it up and pressed her lips to the palm, willing him to open his eyes.

Tears made a silent trek down her face and onto the bed as she waited, choking back her silent sobs. At last he awoke. His eyes were unfocused at first and then zeroed in on her. Her heart had fallen for the kindness in his hazel eyes before she’d even realized that she loved him. They regarded her now, fuzzy with
pain and morphine, but they were still his. As he blinked his eyes into focus, they filled with tears and she pressed his hand against her damp face.

“Look at the pair of us, turning on the waterworks,” she said, trying to force a laugh into her voice.

He shook his head a bit and managed weakly, “I’m . . . sorry. For this. This wasn’t in our plans.”

She gave a sob. “Oh, my love, the plan was for you to come home alive, and that you have done.”

“But not all of me.”

His voice, ragged with grief and anger, was almost unbearable to hear. Prudence’s stomach clenched.

Victoria set up a screen around his bed, but it gave them only the illusion of privacy. Prudence realized their conversation could be heard by the other men in the room and she dropped her voice.

“Your heart is unharmed and you have two arms to hold me and our child.” She tried to be firm and practical, but a tremor shook her voice. His eyes searched her face and she met his gaze. He must not see that she was as horrified and heartbroken as he was.

He broke from her gaze and stared at the ceiling. “Whoever heard of a one-legged veterinarian?”

She swallowed back her tears. “You’re only missing part of a leg, my love, and we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, we have to get you well and healthy, so you won’t miss Horace’s entrance into the world.”

His eyes softened at the mention of their baby, and she filed that away. If talking about their baby made him feel better, she could use that to motivate him to do the hard work of getting healthy and learning to live with his infirmity.

His eyes fluttered and she knew the visit had tired him already. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he put his hand gently against her belly. Again her tears arose, but she blinked them back. “I’ll be back after you’ve had a bit of a rest, all right?”

He nodded, lines of weariness creasing his face.

Victoria poked her head around the screen, her eyes damp as well. “The doctor wants to see you before you go.”

Prudence squeezed Victoria’s hand in gratitude and love. Thank God Vic had been there for Andrew. Thank God. Otherwise . . . no, Prudence wouldn’t allow herself to even consider what could have happened otherwise.

She let herself be led into a small drawing room that hadn’t been changed since the home had been converted into a hospital. The walls were papered in blue with a pattern of white velveteen fleur-de-lis. A heavy, gilt mirror hung above a white-marble fireplace so draped in royal blue velvet that Prudence wondered how they built fires in it without setting the whole house ablaze. French period furniture stood stiffly around the room, making Prudence curious about the people who’d lived here. Were they really so in love with French revivalism or did they just have terrible taste?

“Here.” Vic handed her a warm, damp cloth. “You can clean yourself up a bit.”

Prudence gave a wobbly smile. “Do I look that bad?”

“Ah, Pru, you could never really look bad.” Victoria tilted her head sideways. “All right, you do look rather like a wrung-out mop, but an attractive one nonetheless.”

Prudence gave a halfhearted laugh, and satisfied, Victoria set off to find the doctor. Prudence stepped in front of the gilt mirror and stared at herself. Her red-rimmed eyes and nose sat in
a face swollen with pregnancy. Victoria was wrong. She looked horrible. She wiped her face and repinned her hair as best she could without a comb. The door opened behind her and Vic introduced her to Dr. Sanborn, an older gentleman with silver-white hair and mustache. Instead of a white coat he wore an open black jacket with an old-fashioned watch chain strung across the vest.

“It’s very nice to meet you, my dear.” His eyes fluttered momentarily to her waist and then back up to her face. “Please take a seat. Miss Buxton, could you please bring Mrs. Wilkes and me some tea?”

They sat in two rather uncomfortable chairs set in front of the fireplace. “My apologies for the chill of the room. We always seem to be a bit short-staffed. I usually like to have a fire going for the families and visitors. It makes a room so much cozier, don’t you agree?”

Prudence opened her mouth to answer, but the doctor was off again, talking at a brisk pace that made her feel as if he brooked no nonsense. Of course, he was probably used to dealing with hysterical relatives and was giving her no chance to respond that way.

“Besides his obvious injuries, your husband was also beset with an unusual fever. At first we thought it was from the infection in his ankle, and indeed it was horribly infected, but once that cleared up, he kept spiking odd cyclic fevers. Our only thought was he contracted some sort of strange virus that we were unaware of.”

Prudence licked her suddenly dry lips and wished Vic would hurry with the tea. “Is it gone? The fever, I mean?”

“It seems to be. He hasn’t had one in over a week.”

A thought struck her. “Why wasn’t I informed of his injuries?
I know he had to stay in France until he was strong enough to move, but it seems I would have received some sort of notification.”

The doctor shrugged. “I think you should ask Miss Buxton. Perhaps, considering your condition, she wished to be with you when you learned the news.”

Prudence nodded. That sounded like something Victoria would do.

“Now about his other injuries, I know it’s difficult for you to comprehend his luck at this point, but because he lost the bottom half of his leg, the knee joint is completely functional.”

The doctor beamed at her as if he had just given her a gift, and Prudence shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means that he will have the ability to bend his leg, Mrs. Wilkes. With the advances they are making in prosthetics, he will be able to walk much more normally. He may not even have to use a cane once he is used to the prosthesis. He will always have a limp, but he’ll be able to walk much more normally than if the cut had been made above the knee.”

Prudence wanted to share his enthusiasm, but her insides were so knotted, she could only nod.

That seemed to satisfy him. “His prognosis is good, but much depends on his attitude. And unfortunately, what we have seen from many veterans missing limbs is that they tend to slip into a type of despondency. It’s important to keep his spirits up. Physically, he is going to be weak for quite some time, so I don’t imagine he will want to start on working with his prosthesis until he is stronger. Probably not until March at least. He will be fitted then.”

Prudence took a deep breath digesting that. “How long will he be in the hospital?”

“Let’s just take that a day at a time, shall we? It’s difficult to tell. If all goes well, I would hope to have him home by February. He’ll see a specialist before he leaves. Don’t worry, he is going to receive the best of care, it has all been arranged.”

Her mind spun at this new reality. Doctors, prosthetics, specialists. This was going to cost a fortune. How much would the army pay? Then what the doctor said sank in and she frowned. “What do you mean, it has all been arranged?”

He looked puzzled. “The Buxtons, of course. Lord Summerset sent a note saying all expenses concerning Andrew Wilkes were to be forwarded to him.”

Shock swept over her and her chest tightened so much she couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air and the doctor leapt to his feet. “Mrs. Wilkes? Are you quite all right?”

Prudence’s head spun and she gripped the arms of her chair willing herself to stay upright. Closing her eyes, she did as Victoria always did when she was having an asthma attack—she counted to three and took little breaths. After a few moments of this she was able to breathe normally. Dr. Sanborn was holding her by both shoulders.

“I’m all right now. Thank you.” Could this be true? What could provoke such a random act of kindness from the man who’d cast her out as if she were nothing but a reminder of his family’s legacy of shame?

The doctor sat down, a concerned look on his face. “Has this ever happened before?”

Prudence shook her head.

“I’m sure this has been a shock for you, but because of your
condition, I do worry. Taking care of an invalid is difficult work, and it may adversely affect your pregnancy. Do you have someone who can help you? Friends? Miss Buxton would be perfect, but she is scheduled to go back to France within the week. Is there anyone else?”

Prudence shook her head.

“You’ll need to hire a nurse to help when he comes home. That’s all there is to it. She doesn’t have to be with you full-time, but you will need to get rest, Mrs. Wilkes, for the sake of the baby. If you like, I can send one of our nurses over a few times a week and bill Lord Summerset.”

Prudence’s stomach churned. “No. Thank you. I just remembered someone who could possibly help.”

He nodded. “Very well, Mrs. Wilkes. Now would you like to check in on your husband once more before you leave?”

He rose and Prudence took that to mean that the meeting was over. She stood carefully and thanked Dr. Sanborn. Victoria came in and took Prudence back through the house to where Andrew still slept. She stood for a moment, watching her husband’s still form. He had always been an active sleeper, moving his legs, tossing, giving the occasional snort. To see him lying there so still and white, his kind features hollowed out, only drove home how grave the situation was. She couldn’t look at his missing leg. Her limbs trembled and she felt sick to her stomach.

She swallowed, nodded at Vic, and, taking a deep breath, turned away. She hated leaving him like that, but the doctor was right. She needed to think of herself, too. Besides, she very much needed to have an unpleasant word or two with Victoria.

V
ictoria chattered all the way to the motorcar knowing that if she paused for a breath, Prudence was going to let her have it, and she could guess why. Dr. Sanborn had no doubt told her that Uncle Conrad was going to pay for all of Andrew’s medical expenses beyond what the army paid for. Given their history, Prudence’s pride likely made her bristle at this charity, despite how necessary it was. So Victoria chatted inanely, which seemed obscene considering they had just left Andrew lying so helplessly in that iron bed all alone.

Though Victoria wasn’t an expert in pregnancy, Prudence didn’t look well at all. Even before Victoria had told her about Andrew, Prudence had looked drawn and pale, and her eyes shadowed. Surely most pregnant women didn’t look that way. Of course, Victoria hadn’t seen many expecting women. Most women of her class entered their confinement about five months into their pregnancy.

As they climbed into the motorcar, Victoria, out of the corner of her eye, saw Prudence turn, her pretty mouth compressed into a flat, unattractive line. She probably wouldn’t appreciate Victoria’s telling her that when she made that face, she looked rather like a disgruntled parakeet.