Symptoms of Death (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Book 1) (8 page)

She had the saddle in her arms and was on her way to the barn to put it away when she felt a human arm circle her neck tight
ly enough to cut off her breath so that she couldn’t cry out. Then the arm moved, and a hand, cold and damp with sweat clamped her mouth just as the tip of something cold and sharp touched her throat. A quick, sharp pain, and then warm blood running down her throat and between her breasts, soaking into her dress to mingle with Priscilla’s blood.

Chapter
Seven

Alexandra tried to twist her neck so that the assailant would not puncture her jugular vein, but the strength of the heavy hand on her mouth and around her throat prohibited any movement. She knew she was about to die.

It could have been death that jumped, dark and hulking, from the shadows, forcing her, along with her would-be killer, down to the ground. She knew, though, before she hit the ground, it was not death who attacked, but Zack. She could see her assailant next to her, a shadowy masculine form, struggling on the manure- and straw-strewn ground as he tried to escape Zack’s lunge. Zack would have had the advantage, except that he smelled her blood, and his menacing growl changed to a frightened whine as he turned toward her and gently kissed her wound with his tongue.

It was just enough time for the man to scramble to his feet. For a moment Zack seemed confused as to whether he should run after the man or stay by Alexandra
’s side. He ran, his bark loud and ferocious in the darkness. He stopped a few yards out before he caught up with the predator and watched, as if to make sure he was not coming back, then he ran back to Alexandra.

By the time he reached her side,
Nancy had a lamp lit and was standing at the door holding it and calling out into the night.

“Who
’s there? What is it, Zack? Zachariah!” She held her lamp high, peering into the darkness.

Zack gave one sharp bark, and Alexandra, her hand clasped to her throat, cried out. “
Nancy. I’m here. Come help me.”

“Miss Alex? Is that you?”

Before Alexandra could answer, Zack ran toward Nancy, grabbed the skirt of her nightgown in his teeth and pulled her, dancing an awkward sidestep.

Nancy
let him pull her while she tried to keep her balance and hold onto the lamp. As soon as she was close enough to see the blood-soaked front of Alexandra’s dress and to see the blood pouring from her throat, she stopped and put a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream.

“Help me up,
Nancy. I’ve got to get inside.”

The sharp command brought
Nancy out of her stupor. She set the lamp aside and pulled Alexandra to her feet. “What happened, Miss? Who hurt you like this?”

“Someone with a knife. I don
’t know.” Alexandra could hear the weariness in her own voice, and she was not certain her legs would carry her inside. She walked with her arm slung around Nancy’s shoulders while Nancy held her tightly at the waist and Zack barked his encouragement.

Alexandra called out to the dog in her weak voice. “Good Zack. Good boy. You saved my life.”

“If I hadn’t just let him out for his nightly business, where would we be, Miss? I ask you that.” Nancy sounded half tearful, half angry as she helped Alexandra into the house. “You shouldn’t be out at night, you know that.”

It was an old argument to which Alexandra didn
’t bother to respond. She’d said too many times that she had no control over the time, day or night, that her patients needed her.

“And I
’ve told you dozens of times,” Nancy continued. “You should have a boy who stays around at night. Not someone who goes home to his mum the way Freddie does.”

That was an old argument as well, but now Alexandra
’s response had a new irony. “If Freddie had been here tonight, he’d most likely be dead now.”

“Oh my, Miss Alex, don
’t talk that way.” Nancy’s voice trembled as she spoke. Her hand trembled as well when she reached to open the door and guide Alexandra inside.

“Take me to the surgery,” Alexandra said, “and bring me a basin of hot water.”

For a moment, Nancy didn’t move. Instead, she stood looking at Alexandra shaking her head while tears rolled down her cheeks. “Who would do this, Miss? And why?”

“
Nancy, please. I’ve got to tend to this wound right away.”

“Oh yes.”
Nancy hurried away with the lamp, leaving Alexandra to light her own lamp and find her way to the surgery. Zack followed like a shadow.

She was standing at the mirror, trying to examine the wound when
Nancy returned with the water and fresh bandages. She went to work immediately helping Alexandra remove her bloody dress and clean the gash, but she was not the usual calm, efficient Nancy who so often helped Alexandra with medical emergencies.

“You must calm yourself, Nancy.” Alexandra was once again examining the wound in the mirror. She had seen that, while it was a significant gash, it was not at the jugular vein, but it was in the tender area where the chin joins the throat. It was not so deep that it could not heal, and no vital muscles, tendons, or blood vessels had been affected. “I
’m going to have to depend on you to help me close the wound.”

Nancy
’s eyes grew wide. “Close the wound? Oh no, Miss Alex, I couldn’t.”

“Of course you can. You
’ve helped me sew up dozens of wounds.”

“But not on you, Miss Alex. Not on you.” Zack growled, low in his throat, and
Nancy jerked her head toward him. “Now don’t you go telling me what to do as well. I’ve had enough of your bossiness.”

“I
’ll need to mix a styptic before you close. Can you bring me the ingredients, please, Nancy?” Alexandra held a piece of gauze to her wound as she spoke, and it quickly soaked with blood. Seeing the blood, Nancy turned white again, and for a moment Alexandra feared that she would faint. She turned away quickly and gathered the items.

Within a few seconds
Nancy brought a mixture of gallic acid, powdered opium, sulfate of zinc, and alcohol. Alexandra mixed the ingredients, then soaked another piece of gauze in the mixture and applied it to her wound. Ribbons of fire radiated from her throat under her skin and through her tissue and nerves to her jaw, eyes, and head and down the back of her neck to her shoulders and back, but she kept applying the solution until the bleeding stemmed enough to finish the task.

“Now the sutures, please,
Nancy.” Alexandra had barely spoken the words when the room began to whirl around her, and there were dark spots interrupting her vision.

“Miss Alex
.” Nancy’s frightened voice and Zack’s alarmed bark seemed to come from very far away, and then the dark spots consumed her.

She awakened to the sharp scent of ammonia and the sight of
Nancy bending over her. She lay on the floor where she had slipped from her chair. Zack looked down into her eyes, doing his best to lick her face while Nancy swatted him away with one hand and waved the smelling salts under her nose with the other.

Alexandra
’s first reaction was acute and almost unbearable embarrassment. It wasn’t unusual for her patients to faint from pain, especially when they had been deprived of rest, but she had not expected to succumb herself. She tried to get up, but Nancy pushed her down.

“Not yet, you don
’t,” she said.

“But I
’m all right, Nancy. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sure I just—”

“I
’m afraid you just found out you’re mortal like all o’ your patients.”

“You must let me up from here, and you must understand there were extenuating circumstances that caused me to…to, well, slip for a moment, and—”

“You’ll not be getting up until I’m sure the blood is back to your head where it belongs, and you didn’t just slip, as you well know. You fainted. You needn’t worry, though. Nothing’s hurt but your pride.” Nancy was dabbing at Alexandra’s throat with another soaked bandage. Alexandra’s moment of weakness had brought out Nancy’s strength. She was fully in control now. Within a few minutes she had Alexandra up on the table, needle and sutures in hand.

“And how was the
Blackburn baby?” Nancy asked as she took the first stitch. It was a device Alexandra had used herself to distract patients. If she could keep them thinking of something other than the needle, the pain was not so noticeable. By the time Nancy had finished, Alexandra had told her the whole story of the birth of twins, the one who did not survive, and the condition of the mother. The distraction worked, at least to the extent that she didn’t embarrass herself again by fainting. Zack watched it all, wearing a concerned look and giving Nancy an occasional scolding growl. Within an hour, Nancy had finished her task and had helped Alexandra out of her bloody dress and into bed.

She was awakened the next morning by Zack’s bark signaling that someone had approached the house. She was only half awake, however, until she heard the sound of voices downstairs—Nancy’s voice, of course, but to whom did the other belong?

Alexandra glanced, bleary eyed, at her clock on the bureau, and then her eyes sprung open wide when she realized it was after eight. She should have been up long ago to see after Priscilla Blackburn and her other patients.

The room spun crazily when she stood up, and she had to find the edge of the bed with her hands and sit down again. She must have lost more blood than she’d realized, and then there was the matter of healing. She’d often told her patients not to try to resume normal work after an injury, since, as her father had taught her, the body must use a great deal of its energy to heal. She’d also chided her patients when they told her they had no time to wait. Now it was she who could not wait. There was work to do.

The voices downstairs were louder now, and it sounded as if an argument was in full play.
Nancy’s voice rushed up to her on agitated waves.

“No, you cannot see her. Dr. Gladstone is not well this morning.”

The words of the other voice, a male voice, were less distinguishable to her. She eased herself out of bed and went to her door and called out. “Tell the patient I’ll be down in a moment.”

She stepped back into her room, quickly changed her bloodied bandage and dressed herself hurriedly. She
’d chosen a simple dress, free of ruching and lace and extra petticoats. She tried to dress her hair, but was having trouble keeping the pins in, so she pulled them all out and let her hair flow freely about her shoulders. Perhaps it was not in the best of taste, but when a patient was waiting, one could not worry about meaningless rules of propriety.

Alexandra hurried out the door and to the stairway.
Nancy was at the bottom, just starting up. “Why didn’t you wake me, Nancy? I should never sleep so late. You know I don’t like to keep patients waiting.”

“Don
’t worry, Miss. ’Tisn’t a patient. ’Tis only—”

“Nicholas!”

He grinned at her, and she noticed he was wearing tweeds, not the more formal attire a gentleman would be expected to wear on a return trip to London. “The second time you’ve mistaken me for a…Good Lord. You’ve been wounded.”

“No need to worry. It
’s not life threatening.” She sounded more cavalier than she felt. In truth she had awakened several times during the night remembering with horror her encounter with the knife-wielding stranger and grateful for Zack snoring on the floor next to her bed. Even now, in the peaceful, rose-colored light of the summer morning, she still felt cold fear when she remembered. Nevertheless, she tried to sound unruffled. “I’m surprised to see you here, Nicholas. I thought you were to leave for London early.”

“Never mind my leaving for
London,” Nicholas said, taking both of her hands and leading her to the parlor. “Tell me what happened. Have you hurt yourself?”

“Hurt herself? I think not
.” Nancy sat a tray of tea and scones on the table in front of the sofa just as Nicholas, still holding Alexandra’s hands, sat with her. “A murderer, it was. Met her in the stable yard.” Nancy, her eyes wide, nodded emphatically at Nicholas.

“A murderer?” Nicholas
’s eyes were as wide as Nancy’s as he glanced from one to the other.

“I
’m afraid Nancy’s exaggerating a bit,” Alexandra said. “In truth, I have no way of knowing—”

“Exaggerating am I?”
Nancy put her hands on her hips. “Ask her to tell you the whole story, and we’ll see if I’m exaggerating.” With that she turned and left the room.

“Tea?” Alexandra asked, reaching for the pot.

Nicholas put a hand on hers to stop her from pouring. “Not until you tell me the whole story.”

She sighed. “If I tell you the story, you
’ll be late leaving for London.”

“I
’m not going to London.”

She gave him a surprised look. “Not going to
London? But, why?”

“Never mind why. I want to hear about your encounter and what made your
Nancy mention a murderer.”

“Oh all right.” She sounded impatient as she poured the tea, in spite of his protest. “But I can
’t bear to relive it without a bit of tea.” She took her time stirring in the milk and sugar then took her first swallow while Nicholas glared at her. She was stalling for time, trying to remember whether she’d seen anything at all, whether she’d sensed anything.

Finally she told him, giving all the facts she remembered, finishing with, “and then
Nancy helped me dress the wound, and I went to bed.”