Chapter 21

The Vigil

Dr. Haynie was at the top of the stairs when Martin carried Muriel into the house. "Where?" "Bring her up here. We have the front bedchamber prepared." The counterpane had been removed and there were extra sheets on the side table. All Dr. Haynie's medical instruments were already lined up and sitting on the night side table wrapped in a white cloth. "I need to get her clothes off. You should step out of the room."

"I need you to understand one thing, sir, I won't leave until I wish to leave. I will not leave her. Now, do you have scissors?" No one was going to get him out of this room. He was not going to leave her. "We have to get your clothes off, love. We are going to take care of you." He blinked away tears.

"I have scissors and a scalpel. You use the scissors." He handed them to Martin.

"Thank you, sir." Martin would be respectful until it came to Muriel. He would stay with her. Be there to assist any way he could. She had too many wounds for Dr. Haynie to do all this by himself. Martin was not going to leave her. He was staying until she could open those sky blue eyes of hers, smile up at him, and ask him something he never in his life had ever been asked by anyone before. No one ever knew what would come out of her mouth, and he loved it. He loved her.

They started cutting her clothes away. Dr. Haynie was shocked. "Jesus, she has more wounds than the men explained when they brought me here." They had her dress and chemise cut away. "No corset. Take her stockings off for me while I evaluate this." Dr. Haynie did not ask. Martin did not care. He was in there to help. "She has terrible wounds to her arms and hands. Who wrapped these?"

"Frank, I believe you met him at the New Year's party."

I met him before that. When he came to ask me about Mr. Sanders." He scrutinized the bandaging. "He did a good job. I will have to remove them, but not until we have hot water and alcohol. These wounds are still bleeding. I see two stab wounds to her chest; one at the sternum and one on the middle-left side of her rib cage which is the most dangerous side. She is bleeding from that wound but this other one is bleeding as badly." He pointed to the wound that was level with her breast, and under her arm. "That looks bad. Looks like the attacker fileted the flesh when he pulled the knife out. I need to stop that one quickly."

"Doctor, there is a bad wound down here. External side of her left thigh." Martin noticed blood on the sheets underneath her calf. When he lifted her leg, there was a large gash. "She is bleeding from everywhere." Martin picked up a strip of the cloth he had brought up with him when he carried her into the house. He took the cloth and folded it several times, then applied pressure. "She must have fought him like a little tiger. That bastard was about ten times bigger than she is." He picked up another cloth, folded it, and pressed it against the gash on her left side. It did look as if the skin was hanging precariously. He tried to align the large, deep piece of skin where it had once been, and then covered it as well as he could. He put pressure on both wounds.

"Was? I assume by that, he is dead?"

"Yes, he is. I did not have the pleasure, if that is what you are thinking. The coachman shot him. He was bringing her down the stairs when we got to the warehouse."

"She was in a warehouse?" Haynie looked up over his glasses just long enough for Martin to see Haynie's look of disgust.

"Yes, sir. The man that planned this whole horrid nightmare purchased the warehouse for the sole purpose of holding Muriel there. Sick bastard."

"Sounds as if he is very unstable."

"Doctor, you are being too kind. He is not deserving of it."

"I hope you have a strong stomach. I need to open that wound on her chest to see if the rib is broken."

"I will be fine. I won't leave her. I can't."

Dr. Haynie took an instrument and pried the wound open. "Can you bring that lamp closer for me?" Martin did as he asked. He would do anything as long as she lived.

"Martin, you have blood on your coat and pants. You need to change clothes if you want to assist me. The last thing she needs is an infection." He looked into the wound. "Damn. There is a piece of the knife lodged in the rib bone. I have nothing to pull it out with." Dr. Haynie was becoming more frustrated.

"What about a tool? Some kind of tool, like pliers? That would work, correct?

"We need to do something quickly. She is losing too much blood." Martin understood the end of that blade had to come out.

"I will check with Carl. If they have such a tool, I will have him thoroughly sterilize it."

Dr. Haynie looked at Muriel, then back to Martin before he got to the door. "I'm going to need lots of steaming hot water and alcohol now. Do you know if they have any alcohol here? And I need that tool as soon as possible."

"If they don't have pliers, I will send my coachman. He can get one from my townhouse. Right around the corner. Park Lane. Hell, I will send him to get alcohol. Gin probably has the highest alcohol content."

"Ah, fancy neighborhood." He looked up at Martin. "She deserves that. She has carried the world on her little shoulders ever since her papa died."

"She deserves much more than that." He needed to hurry and get these things done. "I will go check on the tool, water, and alcohol. I will see about changing clothes. Do you think you may need anything else?" If the man needed camel fur to stitch the wounds, he would get it.

"I can think of nothing now. I just need it in a hurry. She is still bleeding."

"If there is no gin, could you use scotch?" Martin knew they could not waste time.

"Yes, yes – scotch will do. Just get it quickly. Water and bandages."

"Yes, sir." Martin ran down the stairs, out to his coach, and spoke to Walter. He needed his luggage. He had not been home since he returned from Brecks. After Walter handed it over. "One more thing I need you to do. Go to the house. See if we have any gin. If not, grab as many bottles of scotch as you can and bring them back here – quickly. Come up to the second floor and knock on the first door. Now, go." He ran back into the house and found Carl. He was sitting in the drawing room with the coachman that killed the scruffy oaf. "Carl, I need a small pair of pliers. Are there any in this house?"

"My lord, I have the exact tool you want." Martin told him to make sure the tool had been thoroughly cleaned with hot water.

"Can I help with anything, my lord?" Christopher, the coachman, wanted to do something. His heart ached at what had happened to her.

"The doctor needs buckets of steaming hot water. We need it in a hurry. You may help Carl with that."

"Cook always has hot water for tea. I shan't be long." Carl assured him. Martin went into the study, grabbed the two bottles of scotch, turned and ran back up into her bedchamber. As soon as he closed the door, he opened his case, stripped down, grabbed the clean clothes, hurriedly put them on, and went back to Muriel's side.

"Here – two bottles of scotch. I have more coming. "

"Martin, when the water comes up, I need you to wipe down all the wounds. Get them as clean as possible. It should be hot, but not so hot as to burn her skin." It was evident by the look on Dr. Haynie's face that he was distressed over these delays. "Most of these wounds are deep. Hand me a wrap to put over her chest wound. We are going to have blood all over Marie's rug. She won't be happy." Doctor Haynie looked up at Martin.

"I don't give one damn. I will buy her as many rugs and bed clothes as she wants." He was agitated at the thought of Muriel's mother being upset. "My little angel never deserved anything like this. She is not even from this world. Ethereal. Maybe that is why her major organs were spared. Who would get stabbed two times in the chest and be saved by bone both times. She flies too high or too low to be killed."

"You know, I have often wondered about her myself." Dr. Haynie was talking as he was attempting to stop bleeding where he could. "She is so beautiful, other worldly. And says some of the strangest things. Things I have never heard any other human say or ask. And she is angelically kind. I have often thought she was some celestial being that fell to earth." Their eyes locked. Martin understood completely.

"It must to so. All that meet her believe her to be other-worldly. Perhaps, that is why I love her so much. She is like no other."

"We need that water. I don't like having to wait to get these taken care of. She has already lost too much blood. That is dangerous in itself, but infections on top of all this blood loss could be – ."

"No, no. She will be fine. Angels don't die." Martin was wondering about the water. It was desperately needed. "I will be back as quickly as possible." Martin started out the door. As he started down the stairs, he saw Carl and the coachman, Chris, coming with two buckets, steam rolling out of both of them. "Carl, set those buckets down in front of the door. You two can't go in there."

"Yes, my lord." Carl nodded to Christopher for him to follow.

Martin was frantically looking through the rooms to find someone, anyone to help. He looked into the study to see Fred. "Fred, we need more alcohol to clean her wounds before the doctor will stitch her up and he is worried this is taking too long. He is very worried about infections. I sent Walter. He's not back. It should not take this long." He had thought about taking a horse and going himself until he saw Fred. "Fred, we need the strongest alcohol spirit we can get and we need it now."

"The McDonnell coach is here. I can get Jimmy and go."

"Thank you, Fred. That would be a big help."

"I think we are out of scotch here. I will buy a case and bring it back with the gin."

"That sounds really good. Thank you so much. It really means –" . Martin had a hard time getting it all out.

"I know, my friend. I will borrow Lady Apparition's wings and return in minutes." Fred said as he turned to walk toward the back of the townhouse, toward the mews. "After I deliver the alcohol, I will go back to Lord Aubyn's and check on Frank." Martin wondered what exactly had happened. He had no time for that consideration.

Martin was about to run back up the stairs when he saw Carl coming from the kitchen. He had something in his hand, wrapped in a serviette. "Carl, What is that? Pliers?"

"Yes, my lord. I scrubbed the hell out of it. Cook boiled it." "Thank you. Carl, stay close to the bellpull, in case."

"I was going to do that. I would rather stay outside the door. I could even lay down in this hall by the door if I got tired." Carl wanted so much to be closer to Lady Muriel.

"Alright then. At least go get a chair and a blanket, if you are serious. "

"Oh, yes, my lord. I would sleep on spikes for her. We all care very much.. No offense, my lord."

"No, Carl. I'm glad. Thank you for telling me. Now, bring that alcohol up as soon as my coachman or Lord Windham returns."

"Yes, my lord."

As Martin carried the buckets in, Haynie looked at them, filled with steaming hot water and quietly prayed they would be enough. Haynie could see how pained Martin was over Muriel. He was doing as much as he could to help her. "Martin, I'm hopeful that two buckets will be enough to prep the wounds." Martin put the buckets down next to the doctor. "Take one for your side. Wipe down around the wound with the hot water." Dr. Haynie handed Martin one of the bottles of scotch. "You will need this after you clean with the water."

"I have the pliers. Scrubbed and boiled." Martin held them out for the doctor.

Haynie reached across and took them. He removed the serviette. "Looks very clean. Now, bring me that commode bowl." Martin picked it up and handed that across. Haynie took the bucket of hot water, poured it into the commode bowl, then he rinsed his hands. "We need to save a sheet to put under her when we start cleaning, use the alcohol, and then I will begin the stitching. " Haynie looked up to see Martin gently stroking Muriel's cheek. "You love her." Haynie was watching Martin's affectionate touch.

"Very much, sir. Very, very much. I would gladly trade places with her." He would not let his emotions take over. He had no time for that. Not now. He already had too many moments where he had broken down. Haynie needed his help. He would break down when it was done. He turned around to do the shredding.

"She is very special. She deserves someone that will let her be the special person she is; love her for the special person she is. I think you may be that man. Don't let me down."

"I will do my damndest not to disappoint. I will work at it every day. If she will still have me." He never turned around to face the doctor. He was unable.

Doctor Haynie took an instrument and spread the chest wound. "I'm sorry, Martin, I need you to hold that lamp for me again."

"Whatever you need me to do." He picked up the lamp and held it as close to the chest wound as he could get it. "

Haynie picked up the pliers, pushed them into the cavity, and pulled. It did not dislodge. He looked up at Martin, blew out a big breath, and tried again. This time it came loose. "The most important thing now is not to drop the damn thing into the cavity. Shite!" He looked at the rib. "This is a bit over one and a quarter centimeters. We will have to watch her for about six weeks. If that rib breaks loose, it could be problematic. Unwrap her arms now. Hand me some of those strips. I can clean her on this side." They were both focused on cleaning her with the hot water. "She is very lucky, in the worst way. The attacker came close to her femoral artery. She would be dead by now if he had cut that artery. He could have punctured either her lungs or heart or both. In which case she would have likely died within minutes. All that bleeding. We need to get started on her extremities and those two damn chest wounds. I need to look at that wound under her arm, by her left breast. It looks worse than I first thought. I need you to trade sides with me. I need to get a closer look at that." They traded sides. Martin began wiping down her arm and hand.

"Yes, sir." Martin moved quickly and looked at all the wounds. Lucky? My sweet is lucky to be alive. Those wounds look terrible. Thank God that bastard missed vital organs. I wish I could bring him back to life so I could kill him again. I wonder if they found Aubyn. It is not worth worrying about, not now. The only thing I need to focus on is my Muriel, my love. I hope she is still mine. I was a fool not to tell her. Muriel, I love you. I will make it up to you. I love you, Muriel. I will tell you when you awake. I will tell you every day, forever. Just live to let me. Please.

She began to moan. "Sir, we need to give her something for the pain. I wish I had that Crumb's ether. The first man that kidnapped her; he knocked her out with ether."

"I have some in my bag. Take one of those strips you have and get that brown bottle. I think it even says ether on the bottle."

"I have it. Now what?"

"Open the cap and pour a small amount on the cloth, then recap it so it can't knock us both out. Then hold it to her nose and mouth. Can you do it?"

"If it helps her. I will do anything you ask of me without a moment's hesitation."

"Good man. Now, not too much."

Martin poured the ether onto the cloth. Put the cap back on the bottle. He looked at Muriel. "I must do this my sweet. You will be asleep. No pain. Dream sweet dreams, my angel. Just be sure to stay on earth with us mortal. Don't leave me here without you." He covered her nose and mouth. Suddenly, she was calm again.

"Get that clean bed sheet. We can sit her up and put it under her." After that was done, Dr. Haynie gave Martin another directive. "This wound went deep past fatty tissue and tore the muscle. This one is bad. Well, they are all bad. Martin, start wiping her down over here. You want to cover the entire area around the wound. Be careful. That whole thing is hanging on by a thin piece of skin. I had better be very careful cleaning it, I need one of those strips." Haynie began to talk to himself. "Align the skin. Put the clean strip over it. Very gently."

Dr. Haynie talked while he was working. "I loved her father. Very good man. And the family. Little Muriel has worked very hard to care for her mother and keep the estate from going to seed. She is a strong little thing." He moved down and looked at the thigh wound. "Like I said, this sweet girl was one lucky little lady. The artery, if that had been cut." There was a knock at the door. "That has to be Carl."

Martin went to the door. Carl had two bottles of gin. "Compliments of Lord Windham. How is she, my lord. There are people downstairs waiting to hear."

"She is out. We have her cleaned." Dr. Haynie removed the tip of the blade that was lodged in a rib. It was over one and a quarter centimeters. "You apply the alcohol. I will come right behind you, stitching her up. Continue to apply pressure.

I have to close the door." He carried the bottles to the bed and handed one of them to Haynie and opened one for himself. "Which wound do you want to stitch first?"

"Honestly, I would like to take care of that awful wound on her side. It is going to take too much time though. I think I will put some large stitches in that wound just to keep the tissue viable and cut down on bleeding. Then I will start with the thigh. Next, the two wounds over the rib. That is beginning to bleed badly again from my digging around. She has deep wounds on her arms and hands. The gash on her calf is bad as well. We need to trade sides again. After I get the thigh and rib wound stitched, I will come back over there and stitch those deeper wounds on her arms and hands. Clean those two areas for me before you come over here."

Martin was careful to be thorough. They changed sides and Martin began the work of cleaning all the arm and hand wounds with the alcohol.

It had taken hours upon hours by the time the doctor had completed the stitching. He explained to Martin which wounds

should be left open to air and which needed dressing that should be changed at least every six to eight hours unless bleeding broke through. "Son, I'm going home. I need to go hug my sweet wife and tell her how much I love her." He put his hand on Martin's shoulder as he looked over at Muriel. "She has lost a lot of blood, son. She is such a little thing. We will pray for her. The next few days will be critical. You never know." Haynie's big bulky hand tightened his grip on Martin's shoulder. "You did quite well. I may even hire you." He gave Martin a quiet chuckle. "I will return on the morrow, unless something happens. Come get me immediately. Good night." And out the door he went.

Martin finally remembered Muriel's mother. She had not been downstairs. She had not tried to enter this bedchamber; not once. When he thought about it, he had yet to see Rosa or Amina. He used the bellpull, then wondered if Carl was in the hall. He opened the door to see Rosa and Carl.

"Can we come in? We would like to at least be able to look at her. The house has been so worried." Rosa was wringing her hands.

Martin felt numb. "What time is it? What happened to Marie?"

"You started in here at between four and five o'clock in the evening. The sun is beginning to come up. Dr. Haynie and you have been in here for a very long time. Lady McDonnell, she was so upset, she went into some kind of panic. Amina had some laudanum. She has been out ever since. Thank goodness. I don't believe any of us could have dealt with that on top of all us worrying about Muriel." Rosa's information made sense regarding Marie. He concluded, it must have between five and six o'clock in the morning. He was tired, but he would not leave her. He needed her to stay. "Heaven can't take you back yet." He told her.

"I'm going to stay in here. I would like a more comfortable chair, if that is at all possible. That divan over there is too short. I can tell from here. I need a pitcher of water and do you have a washing cloth? I want to be able to keep her mouth moist. Maybe try to get a very, very small amount of water down her. I worry about her choking. It can only be a wee bit. The doctor left the ether and a bottle of laudanum. I don't want her to be in pain." He continued to focus on her lovely face. "She never once said anything about being in pain in that damn warehouse. We administered ether so she is out; she moaned only once while we were doing what we could – . You understand? My little angel is a tough one."

Both Carl and Rosa walked over to the bed. "Please don't touch her. Well, if you wish, you could pet her head, her hair, but her arms and hands are so badly wounded. I think –"

"We understand, my lord. We would never want to do anything to hurt her." Carl looked so forlorn.

"She is a tough little thing. I have known her all my life. She is going to be… – " Rosa broke down.

Martin walked over to her, put his arms around her, and hugged her to him. "She will be fine. Up and running before you know it."

"Lord Claymont, before he left, Dr. Haynie told us it was touch and go. You need not protect us." Rosa hugged him back, then forced herself out of the room.

"You have had nothing to eat. My lord, I will bring a food tray and tea for you." Carl had been invaluable through this whole abhorrent experience. "Don't say no. I'm bringing it. And, my lord, Lord Windham, Mr. Stewart, and the coachman, Chris, would like to come up for a moment." It came to Martin's mind that Fred said he was going to see about Frank. He would wait to hear what had happened there.

"Yes, yes, of course. They were instrumental in our getting her from that insane bastard. It is too unbelievable." Martin thought about the coachman. "The coachman, Christopher? I want to thank him, but would you make sure he only stays for a few minutes." Martin needed to speak with Fred and Frank privately.

"I will bring more chairs. I will get you a more comfortable chair to put next to the bed, then I will invite them up and get you some nourishment." Carl did not wait for an answer. He was out to accomplish his self-appointed tasks.

Martin could hear the footfalls of Fred and Frank coming into the room. They looked around, intending to have an extended visit, so seating would be helpful. Fred spotted Carl coming through the door with a wingback. "I have two more to bring." Carl wanted to let them know they would be obliged.

"I will assist. Lead the way." Fred looked at Frank. "Please, refrain until I return." Frank understood. Fred wanted to hear as well as share their information. Frank was willing to wait a few minutes. "You look tired, my friend. I'm sure Miss Morgan would be happy to step –" Frank could visibly see the emotional pain Martin was suffering. He stood and walked to the end of the bed. She looked very pale; pasty-faced, they call it. It was never a good sign.

"No, no. I need to be here. I can't leave – if she needs something –"

"Chairs! I suppose the most comfortable one goes to the physician's assistant." Fred gave Martin a smile of friendship and concern as he patted Martin on the shoulder. "The doctor told us how much you did to help him. Before he left, he said if you had not been there he would have still been upstairs stitching, leaving Muriel in even more peril. He also said she had lost a dangerous amount of blood. Martin –"

"She is going to be fine. I will hear nothing else. You understand." Martin was not asking. "Tell me of the bastard Aubyn."

"I can tell you one good thing out of this debacle; I found the will. Aubyn had it in his file cabinet." Frank pulled it out of his waistcoat and waved it.

"Thank God." One less thing for Martin to try to fix.

Frank and Fred began explaining the turn of events that occurred at Aubyn's townhouse. Throughout their information, Martin wondered how Aubyn could be so witty and astute on one hand and be a raving monster on the other. It was shocking; the extent of his obsession with Lady McDonnell was such a tragedy.

"I'm sorry for Stephen, Lord Blackwood. You said he made a humorous remark about having James on him. I know how close they really were. He is going to miss him. I'm sure he is wondering how in the hell he could have been able to hide any of this without Stephen being aware." Martin would see Stephen after Muriel was better.

Fred went downstairs, grabbed a bottle of scotch from the case he purchased, three glasses and came back to the make-shift hospital room. "Martin, I think you could use a shot of this." He poured the liquid into three glasses. Handed one to Frank and held out a glass for Martin.

"Thank you, Fred. I fear I won't be able to stay awake. What if she needs me? I could never forgive myself." His eyes shifted to that petite, quixotic angel.

"Then why not let one of us sit with her while you rest for a few hours? I would be happy to do that. I told you, I care very much for her, too, even if you have claimed her." Fred could see how tired Martin was. "I think you have been awake since you returned home from Brecks. You need rest."

"Once I know she is – better…I will take you up on your offer. "

"If you are adamant, is it early in the morning. I think Frank and I will return to my townhouse and get a long sleep. You ready to leave, Frank?"

"Yes, I'm due a rest. Here." Frank handed the will to Martin. "I will be back on the morrow, my friend. My hopes are with you."

Fred stood facing Martin. "She will be alright, Martin. She is an apparition. Remember. I will return after I wake and break my fast. Rest, if you can, although I know you won't."

"Thank you, Fred. My oldest, dearest friend."

"Martin, you only have a few." Fred squeezed Martin's arm. "Tomorrow."

They left and Martin moved the comfortable chair to the edge of the bed. "I'm happy to see you resting. You need rest to heal. I so want to hold you, mayhap hold your hand yet I shan't take any chances of hurting you. You look so tiny. Like I could put you in my pocket. And I probably could excepting your luscious bosom. I may have my tailor make larger pockets so to keep you with me all day and night. It would be a dream come true for me. I will never let you fly away from me. You need me to take care of you. Too many men are eager to have you. I can't allow that, my sweet. I love you. I love you more than life. You must know that. With all that I did to find you, have you, and keep you safe, I was an absolute fool not to recognize all those emotions I was feeling came down to one of the grandest of emotions – love. I love you. I loved you the moment I saw you at the theatre. I did everything to find you. You think I could let you go now? Not a chance. You are stuck with me. I'm so sorry. You won't be able to turn me away. Should you refuse me, I will make such a nuisance of myself, you will marry me to keep me off your heels. You know when I make my mind up about something I fight like hell to get it. I want you by my side always – I will fight like hell to make that happen." He laid his head down on the bedside, eyes looking up at her. "My sweet, sweet, love. Please." He began to cry. "Please don't leave me. You are an angel; tell them in the heavens, you can't leave yet. Please." He felt movement. She barely raised her hand and tried to touch him. "Muriel, I know you hear me. I love you. You cannot leave me." He wept until sleep took him.

He woke to hear her moaning. "I am here. I will take care of you. You will rest." He took the ether, followed the instructions Dr. Haynie had given him, then put the cloth to her nose and mouth. She fell back into a calm sleep. "You must rest to get better. Then I will get a special license and we will get married, right in this room. I only need you to get well." He looked at that gorgeous face. She still looked so pale. He prayed that she would be alright. He knew he could not hold her hand, so he slid his underneath hers. He watched her until he fell asleep again.

The sun coming through the window woke him. This particular room got the afternoon sun. It had been twenty-four hours since this crime occurred to his angel. She was still on this earth. When it became dark, he had forgotten all about the drapes. He went and closed them. She needed to continue to rest. She would need sunshine when she was better healed. He would take her to Brecks first, then to Claymont Estate . She would love both of those homes. He began to tell her all about them as she lay there, motionless. He told her about his mother. How horrid his father was to his dear mother. He told her she had proved to him that there was such a thing as love. He felt it for her every day since the first time he saw her.

There was a light rap on the door. Dr. Haynie entered. "How is our little angel this evening? I was here this morning. You and Muriel were both sleeping. I would not wake you. I quietly checked the bandages. It looks like you have been diligent about keeping the bandages clean."

"I had to give her more ether. I'm not sure how long ago; maybe two or three hours ago. She was moaning. I don't want her to hurt. I have checked her bandages a few times, that one under her arm. It is nasty. And I changed the thigh bandage. It was bleeding. I don't know what can be done for that bad wound on her side. Is there anything?"

"Not that I have ever heard of. I do know that if the tissue is viable, it can reintegrate itself, but I just can't say. It was bound to her when she was dressed; we covered it up as soon as we could. I just don't know, son." He walked over to the other side of the bed. Bent down and put his ear over her chest. "She seems to be breathing a bit too shallow. We don't want pneumonia, winter fever, setting in. She needs to breathe deeper, but there is nothing we can do about that." He bent down and listened again.

"Her breathing is slow as well; that is to be expected as she has been given anesthesia. That goes along with it. Hopefully, she will come around in a few hours. At least long enough to speak to her briefly." He looked over at Martin. "You been here all this time?"

"Yes, sir, but I did sleep a bit; off and on. I'm fine. I just need her to be. She is a tough little angel. I know she will be flittering around in no time."

"We all hope so, son." He started for the door. "I'm going downstairs for a bit of tea and scones. I think they were delivered. Anyway, if she does anything at all while I'm still here, just call down for me. Otherwise, I will be back on the morrow. Again, if anything happens, have someone come for me immediately."

"Yes, sir. I will. Thank you doctor."

"You are welcome, son. Get some rest."

Throughout the evening, into the night, people came in and out to see her and check on Martin. Rosa had spent a good bit of time with Martin. "Martin, if nothing else. Let me have your butler pack you some clothes to bring over here. I think you need a bath. I will sit with her while you complete your toilet."

Martin continued to talk to Muriel. He was telling her stories, sharing his hopes for their future, and places he wanted to take her. He slept off and on until morning came again. "Who is here? Fred? Frank? Is Carl sleeping?" Martin thought perhaps Carl could do his bidding.

"He slept a bit, like all of us. Do you wish to speak with him, my lord?"

"I can use the bellpull." Martin waited. "May I help you, my lord." Carl looked tired. As did all under the McDonnell roof.

"Yes, Do you know where Park Lane is?"

"Yes, my lord. Approximately, two streets away. Yes, my lord." Bless Carl.

"My townhouse is No. 40 Park Lane; My butler's name is Mr. Rogers. Take this ring, tell him you came for clothes. My valet's name is Mr. Simmons. Have him pack my clothes for…mmm…four days. He can return with you. Any questions?"

"No, my lord. I am leaving now."

Rosa came in to see after Muriel. She stood for a few minutes. Martin thought he heard her praying. "My lord, there is an extra bedchamber at the end of the hall. The one in front of that is Curtis' bedchamber. You are more than welcome to use either or both." Rosa wanted him to be assured he was welcome to stay as long as he wished. She knew Lord Claymont would not leave until he knew, without any doubt, that Muriel was well.

For days, Martin stayed by Muriel's side. He literally moved in. He had food stuffs delivered for the house. He ordered a commode chair so he would be able to stay in the room with her. He refused to leave the room until she was awake and well. He gave her sponge bathes. When she soiled herself, he would clean her, then change the sheets. He had Miss Christopher make chemises that were open in the back. He used a sponge with sugar-water, held her head up, then held to her lips in an attempt to give her some kind of sustenance. At night, his valet would bring him his banyan and evening shoes. In the morning, the valet would dress him in Muriel's temporary bedchamber. He ate in the room. Guests came in and out. Margaret and Helen came by daily. Fred and Frank came and stayed for hours at a time. Fred, Frank, Margaret, and Helen became fast friends over this tragic event. The gentlemen would drink scotch, the ladies drank brandy, and Martin would drink tea. Rosa and Amina would come and sit. Rosa tried to get Martin to take some time for himself, but he continued his vigil.

It had been five days and five nights since she spoken, with any semblance of communication.

Martin was still in his banyan. He had said good-morning to her. Told her who he thought would come by today. He wanted to put on one of her pretty new chemises. He went to the commode bowl and was brushing his teeth. He stopped and looked over at her. He thought he heard something, listened, and heard nothing. He finished his toilet. Walked back to his chair. "I just brushed my teeth and my hair. If you don't wake soon, my valet may have to trim my hair right here." He performed his newly acquired habit; he tucked his hand underneath hers. He sat for a moment, thinking he needed to check her bandages. "My sweet. Time to check the bandages. They look much, much better. You need to wake up so we can plan our wedding. You know you have to marry me. I have ruined the entire family's reputation by moving in here. You have no choice, my sweet." He was unwrapping her arm.

"Can we marry tomorrow? I would like that." Her eyes were closed; her voice a bit louder than a whisper. He could swear she had spoken. He just stared at her.

"I want to –" He stopped. She took a breath. "You do too."

"Muriel? Darling? You are awake? You are awake! Oh, my sweet, you are awake."

"Martin, I have been awake, I think I have. You have talked my arm off." Martin began to laugh. Her voice was slow, quiet, and a little raspy, but deliberate. "Wait, that is not a good metaphor. I almost lost my arms. Let me say, you talked to me a lot, Martin. Mind you, I am not complaining. I loved it." He shook his head. Her eyes were barely open and yet she was talking to him as if they had been discussing a wedding for days.

"My sweet. Do you know what you are saying? Are you alright?" She nodded. "I want so badly to touch you. I don't want to hurt you."

"Martin, you have been bathing me and cleaning me, which I am a bit embarrassed about, but you refused to let anyone else do it."

"Oh, Muriel." He stroked her hair.

"I think you could kiss me. I have been unable to use my dentifrice. Maybe you should wai –" Martin gave her no chance to complete her sentence. He kissed her long, sweet, tenderly, and with so much love, Muriel felt it to her toes. "Martin, can we get married tomorrow? I want you to sleep with me. I want to lie next to you. I want to be your wife, in every way."

"My love, I will marry you today, if that is what you wish. I must go to get a special license which I hesitate to do as I fear leaving you for even an hour."

"Has Mama been in here to see me? I can't recall hearing her."

"She has felt it best to allow you to recuperate. She will very likely be happy to visit now she knows you are almost back to yourself." He continued to stroke the golden hair he loved so much. "Now, tell me what you want and I will make it happen. "

"Martin, I meant what I said. I know that you love me. I heard you tell me so many times. And you have shown me in so many ways. I want to be married to you as soon as possible." He kissed her again. "I love you, Martin. I want you in every way. Understand?"

"I think that I do. The ‘everyway' part may take a while but I am so very willing to wait, as long as I know that you are mine."