Claimed By Chaos (33 page)

“I don’t know how you did it. I know why, but I don’t think I could have done it.” He whispered. Gilles leaned forward and let his head hang as his hand reached for Giselle. He squeezed her arm gently.

“You’re done. No more after this, Giselle.” His voice was hoarse. She nodded against Alastair. He felt tears soak his shirt and he clasped her head to him.

“Sshh… We’re almost there.” He said softly as he felt the carriage turn. “Just a few minutes more.” She pushed against him and her eyes were shattered.

“I’m scared, Alastair.” Her voice was almost gone and she was pale. Her lips were trembling as she stared up at him. He cradled her face.

“I’ll take care of you. It’s going to hurt but I can clean and bind the wound.” Alastair searched her eyes, they started to look heavy. She was starting to lose consciousness. It was probably for the better if she wasn’t awake. She shook her head.

“I’m pregnant. I don’t want to lose the baby.” She moaned weakly and her eyes rolled before she went limp. Alastair’s vision blurred and he swayed. He couldn’t feel or hear his heart and it felt as if the carriage was tilting.

“Oh, Jesus!” Gilles’ voice was muffled and distant. Alastair attempted to lift his head to look at him and blinked, trying to focus.

“You have to take her.” Alastair slurred as he rested his head against the cushion behind him and tried to breath. His chest wouldn’t expand and it felt as if there were hands around his throat. He felt Giselle lifted away from him and he tugged at his cravat but his fingers fumbled. Nausea rolled over him and he tasted bile.

“Did you know?” Lucien asked softly. Alastair shook his head violently and had to grind his teeth to stop the rush of burning fluid that tore at his throat. The carriage rocked to a halt and Lucien pushed the door open and jumped out. Alastair swallowed as he pulled air into his lungs.

“Get her inside and have everything ready.” Alastair’s voice was thick and unsteady. As soon as Gille’s handed Giselle into Lucien’s arms and jumped out, Alastair stumbled out and reached for the back of the carriage and bent over as his stomach started to squeeze and pain shot up his throat. He felt his chest lock as hot, bitter liquid spilled over his tongue. He coughed painfully as wave after wave of acid heat poured from his mouth.

“Mon garçon!” Maman called from behind him. Alastair shook his head and raised his arm, holding her off. He gasped for air and felt his head clear.

“Help her!” He commanded. He spit, trying to get as much of the taste out of his mouth as he could. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and stood. The ground rolled beneath him and he held on to the carriage until it stopped. He breathed again and carefully stepped toward the house. A footman ran forward and offered to help but he waved him off.

By the time he stepped into the hall, he felt focused and steady. He ran up the stairs and pushed through the crowd of servants outside Giselle’s room. Inside, the room was a storm of activity. Servants rushed with supplies as The Mothers worked over her. Maman was cutting Giselle’s shirt open as Madeline washed her face with a damp cloth. Gilles was pacing as he barked orders.

Alastair shrugged out of his coat and started unbuttoning his sleeves. He looked to Gilles as he rolled them.

“Did someone go for a doctor?” He asked. Gilles nodded.

“I sent for Granville.” Gilles said flatly. The Mothers looked up in shock. Granville specialized in pregnancy and childbirth. Alastair nodded as he started looking over the items arranged on the table by the bed as he washed his hands. He finally let his eyes scan Giselle as he approached the bed. She was pale and her skin looked clammy but her chest rose and fell steadily.

“I need more light.” Alastair announced as he looked up. The Mothers were frozen, their eyes were large as they stared at his arms. He looked down and frowned as he saw the head and claws of a dragon crawling out from under the rolled cuff of his sleeve. His eyes flicked to Maman’s. She blinked rapidly before she looked up at him.

“We will discuss this later.” She whispered shakily. Alastair nodded and reached for a sponge as more candles were placed by the bed. He took a deep breath and leaned over the jagged, gaping hole in Giselle’s shoulder.

After a quarter of an hour, Alastair stood up and stretched his neck. His body was drenched in sweat and his hands shook but he was satisfied that he’d cleared any debris from the wound and nothing critical was damaged. He shook his head gently. She may not be able to use her arm but aside from that, nothing more critical was damaged. He prayed she’d forgive him. Alastair used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he reached for the bottle of scotch and the door burst open.

“You shot her?”
Mirabelle yelled and Lucien swept in and shut the door. Alastair looked up and felt the room sway.

“I can’t right now, Mirabelle. Either help me or get out.” He said as he pulled the cork.

“What do you need me to do?” She asked as she stood next to him. He looked at her and waited for his voice to work.

“Hold her down. This is going to hurt like hell.” His voice rasped and he felt the nausea returning. Mirabelle was pale as she nodded. She sat on the edge of the bed and placed one hand on Giselle’s shoulder above the wound and gripped her arm. Madeline grabbed Giselle’s other hand and squeezed her eyes shut as Maman took hold of her arm and rested her forehead against the mattress and prayed. Alastair took a deep breath and braced himself as he started pouring.

Giselle’s eyes snapped open as she gasped for breath and threw her head back. Her body arched against the bed and she screamed as she tried to pull free. Her scream ripped through Alastair and he staggered back from the bed. He stumbled toward the dresser and grabbed the basin, pulling it to his chest as he slid to the floor. His chest heaved as another wave of molten acid exploded from him. He clung to the bowl as he fought off the dizziness that tried to overtake him. Mirabelle called to him and he tried to make his eyes find her.

“Is it done?” She asked. He nodded weakly before he felt another spasm squeezing his chest. The door opened again and Granville rushed in.

“What the hell is this?” He yelled. Alastair was grateful when Gilles walked in and addressed the doctor.

“Lady St. Claire was the victim of an attempted abduction this evening. She was injured when we rescued her.” His voice was clear and commanding. Granville looked around the room and nodded. He stepped to the bed and started examining Giselle. She was moaning and shifting restlessly. Alastair focused on the rhythm of her breathing and was comforted by how strong it sounded. He saw that Granville was applying the dressing and he started to relax. He didn’t think he could look at her shoulder any more.

“It looks as good as can be expected. I don’t think there’s anything else I could have done.” Granville said as he looked at Gilles and then at the bed. “I’m not sure why you even sent for me.” Granville looked at Gilles expectantly. Gilles’ eyes flicked to Alastair. He sighed as he pushed his hands through his hair.

“Lady St. Claire is pregnant.” Alastair’s voice broke and he felt tears fill his eyes.

“Mon petite!” Maman cried as she reached for Giselle.

Alastair looked up as Mirabelle fell to the floor next to him. Her hand closed about his and squeezed gently.

“Oh, Alastair.” She whispered. Granville frowned as he looked back at the bed.

“Most of you should leave while I examine the patient.” He said softly.

“Do you want me to stay?” Mirabelle whispered. Alastair nodded. He had never been so scared or grateful for his sister.

Everyone else cleared the room and Alastair remained on the floor with Mirabelle while Granville and Jane attended to Giselle. After several minutes, Granville stood up and turned to Alastair.

“Everything looks good for now.” His voice was low and gentle. Alastair remained tense as he waited for Granville to continue. “There’s still a chance she could lose the baby but if she hasn’t already, I think there’s a good chance she won’t. But we’ll just have to wait.” Alastair searched his face and felt reassured. “She needs to rest, I’d like her to stay in bed for the next two weeks and avoid anything strenuous. You should try to help her remain calm and encourage her to eat well.” Granville washed his hands and started to gather his belongings. “I’ll be back in a few days to check on Lady St. Claire.” With that, he left.

Chapter 61

Alastair remained on the floor with Mirabelle and watched as Giselle was carefully bathed and changed. When The Mothers were confidant she was as comfortable as possible they began pushing everyone from the room.

“I think I’ll go, you probably want to be alone with her.” Mirabelle whispered. Alastair raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Thank you.” He let her see his gratitude as he squeezed her hand. She nodded as she rose to her feet.

“I’ll be downstairs, if you need anything.” She kissed his cheek before she stood up straight. Mirabelle stopped by the bed and leaned over Giselle. “Please, be alright.” She begged softly as she gently kissed her forehead. Giselle’s lips curved and she nodded weakly. Mirabelle caressed her hand as she stood and then left the room.

“Let us know if you need us.” Maman whispered at the door. Alastair nodded as he watched it shut, leaving him alone with Giselle.

He felt as if he had aged decades. His body was stiff and weak as he pulled himself off the floor. He cursed himself for complaining as he looked to the bed. Giselle looked so tiny and frail. It was if the life had been wrung out of her and she was faded and empty. Alastair pulled a chair close to the bed and sat as he reached for her hand. He lowered his head and pressed it against his face. It was cold and limp. She had lost a lot of blood. Much of it had saturated his clothing. His coat and waistcoat were gone but his shirt, breeches and forearms were streaked with her blood. The metallic smell still clung to him but he blocked it out. Alastair wanted to bathe and change. Desperately. But he couldn’t leave Giselle.

He felt her stir and looked up to see her watching him. She tried to move, to pull herself closer and he leaned forward and carefully placed his hands upon her to try and still her.

“Don’t move!” He whispered urgently as he tried to stroke her soothingly, anywhere that he thought wouldn’t hurt her. Giselle’s eyes were weak and heavy as they searched his face.

“I’m cold. Will you hold me, Alastair?” Her voice was so fragile and it broke his heart. He frowned as he looked around the room for another clean blanket. He hated to deny her but they would not be alone for long and people would be in and out of her room to tend to her. If he was fully dressed in clean, dry clothes, he probably wouldn’t have hesitated. “Please, I need you.” She whimpered.

There was nothing he could do. Alastair sighed in defeat and unbuttoned his collar. He pulled his shirt over his head as he crossed the room to the basin. He quickly washed as much of his arms and chest as he could before he gently eased himself onto the bed next to her. He slid in as close to her good side as he could and carefully draped his arm over her. Giselle sighed as she pressed her back against him and clung to the arm around her. As soon as the discomfort passed, Alastair breathed deeply and pressed his lips to her ear.

“I love you.” He said softly as he gently pulled her closer to him. He felt her exhale and her body became soft, relaxed against him.

“I love you too.” She sighed.

Everything in Alastair melted as joy flooded him. She had never said the words. To hear them after everything that had happened, when he was so unsure and raw inside, was like a warm elixir spreading within him. It was as if he’d been drugged. A calm heat washed over him, his eyes refused to stay open and his body felt as if it was made of lead.

“Rest, my love.” He mumbled as his face pressed into the corner of her neck. Alastair was helpless as the darkness pulled him under. He smiled as he felt his lips against her neck and slipped into unconsciousness.

The next time Alastair’s eyes opened, the light was fading from the sky and the room was dark. Which was odd. The sky was just starting to lighten and the room was dark when he’d laid next to Giselle. He looked across the bed and saw Maman sitting in the chair. Her head was bent and she appeared to be embroidering. She always become obsessed with embroidering when there was a grandchild on the way. Alastair felt his hand close over Giselle’s stomach protectively as he prayed that he did not disappoint her.

“You have given poor Jane a terrible scare, mon fils.” Maman said softly, without taking her eyes off her work. “I am worried she will ask to return to Winthorpe. Madeline and I have taken turns caring for votre amour chéri. There is food on the table for you and then you should bathe and change. I will stay with Giselle.” She finally looked up at him. Her eyes were full of concern and a hint of reproach. Alastair felt his brows pull together and he frowned.

“How long have I been asleep?” He asked softly as he carefully released Giselle and slid from the bed.

“You have slept the entire day.” Maman’s eyes widened as he stood and stretched. Alastair looked down at himself and swore. He forgot that he’d removed his shirt before he’d joined Giselle. Poor Jane, indeed. He watched as she carefully stood and came around the bed. Her head fell to the side as she slowly walked around him. When she stopped in front of him a soft smile curved her lips and her eyes were warm.

“You’re not angry?” Alastair held his breath. He had never coped well with Maman’s anger or disappointment. She shook her head slowly as she raised her hand to cup his cheek.

“You are so much like your father.” Her eyes glistened and her lips trembled. “And then you are so very different.” She whispered. “I have always worried most about you because I thought you needed me the least. And all the while, I wanted to hold you to me the most.” Her voice became unsteady as she released him and went to the table. She uncovered the dish and poured a glass of wine. “Come and eat.” Maman ordered. Alastair looked at the bed, loath to leave Giselle’s side.

“I’m not very hungry.” He argued gently. Maman raised an eyebrow, daring him to disobey her. He felt his lips tighten as he crossed the room. Only she could make him feel like he was six.

“If you do not keep up your strength, you will not be able to help her. And we do not need two patients to care for.” Maman said as she handed him a fork.

Alastair took the fork dutifully and stabbed at his potatoes. Maman smiled as she brushed back the hair that had fallen over his eyes.
I must look like hell
. He thought as he started attacking the roasted beef. He must have been hungrier than he thought, his food was vanishing quickly. He looked around as he chewed and suddenly felt self conscious. He was in Giselle’s bedroom, she was asleep and pregnant, he was almost completely undressed and eating like an escaped convict in the presence of his mother. He swallowed slowly and cleared his throat.

“You are handling all of this very well, Maman.” Alastair said carefully and she shrugged as she buttered a roll and handed it to him.

“All I want is for my children to be happy. There is nothing that I would not do, or overlook, for you.” She said softly as her eyes drifted slowly over him. “And if Giselle finds this…” She gestured towards his chest. “Pleasing. Then, I am not to judge.” Her smile became mischievous. “It is very obvious that she does. And I cannot say that I blame her. You have grown to be very handsome and these markings do make you seem more… virile.” Maman laughed softly as she took the seat opposite him. Alastair felt his eyes grow wide and what he suspected was a blush rising up his neck. He took a long drink of his wine as he tried to compose himself. He could not remember a time when he had felt more uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you’re not troubled by this.” He was happy to keep his comment vague. Maman stared at him a moment before she frowned.

“Do you know, when you were a baby, you never wanted me to hold you?” Her voice became distant and sad. Alastair tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. Part of him was very curious to hear what she would say next while part of him wanted to leave the room, quickly. He held very still. “You used to scream as if I was hurting you and you would twist and push away like an angry cat. Sometimes, I would cry and beg you to let me hold you. Other times, I would become so angry and I would argue with you. Your father used to laugh at me but it made me feel better to tell you that you were being cruel and unreasonable.” Her expression became wistful.

“I’m sorry.” Alastair said softly. He couldn’t remember a time when his body didn’t fight against him. Knowing that he was born like that was both fascinating and frightening. His eyes went to Giselle. Would his child suffer as he did? He pushed the thought aside and focused on Maman. “I wish I could have been more agreeable.” He felt a glimmer of relief when she smiled but it faded quickly.

“I thought you had grown out of it and that you were just very independent. You were always very stoic, especially after your father died. I assumed it was because you were so very smart, that you could not be bothered with things as typical as hugs and kisses. But I longed to sweep you into my arms and rock you like an infant almost every minute of the day.” Maman’s eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to hold back the tears that made them shine. Alastair reached across the table and rested his hand over hers gently.

“I could always tell. Especially when I went to Eton and I was extremely relieved that you didn’t.” He let his lips curve teasingly and she laughed softly. “But I always knew and that was enough.” Her eyes searched his.

“I wish I would have known, Alastair. I think I should have. How can a mother not know such a thing about her son?” She whispered. Alastair felt an ache in his chest and he shook his head.

“It was always hardest to hide it from you but I had to. There was nothing you could do and I knew it would hurt you to know I was uncomfortable or in pain.” He watched as she accepted his explanation. “I have never been good at expressing my feelings or returning affection but I have always felt very fortunate and appreciative to have you for a mother. There aren’t a lot of women out there that would have loved me despite my defect.” He paused when her eyes flared and she started to shake her head in protest. “Whatever it is. I’m grateful that I have the sort of mother that would tell me that I was being a miserable shit when I was an infant and still keep trying to love me.” She laughed as tears spilled from her eyes and she leapt from the table. Alastair rose as she reached for him and he stopped her. Aside from the discomfort of her hugging him when so much of his skin was exposed, he still hadn’t bathed. “Maman, I’m covered in sweat and blood.” He whispered. She shook her head.

“I don’t care.” She said defiantly as she stood before him and held her arms open expectantly. Alastair took a deep breath as he carefully put his arms around her and pulled her close. For a moment, it felt as if he was being scrubbed with a wire brush but he kept breathing and his skin calmed. Maman felt small and soft and he regretted that he hadn’t indulged her more. Despite the fact that he was so much larger and more powerful, he felt safe and warm as he held her. She looked up as she gathered his face in her hands and kissed him firmly on the lips. “Now, go and take a bath and put on clean clothes. I think you will feel much better.” She commanded as she pointed at the door. “I will have soup brought up and I will see if I can get mignon to take some.”

Alastair smiled as he went to the bed. He pressed a kiss to Giselle’s lips and promised he’d return quickly. She stirred but remained asleep. Alastair nodded to Maman as he left, relieved to know that Giselle was in loving, protective hands while he was away.