Lady Alexandra's Lover (Sex and the Season #3) - Helen Hardt Page 0,77
you come from?” Sophie cried.
“I came earlier in a hansom cab. I’ve been hiding in the shadows, waiting for you to arrive… And it’s a damn good thing I did. One of us can go for help.”
“How? He’s… He’s been shot… We don’t even know if… Oh, so horrible. Too horrible for words!”
Ally shuddered. Evan was not dead. Evan could never be dead. She could not entertain the thought. His chest rose and fell. He still breathed. Thank God! He had been shot in the leg, not through the heart.
His heart. She willed herself to be calm. Evan was all that mattered right now. Evan, and getting help.
“Sophie, I need to go for help.”
“It’s not safe. I have no idea where we are, but I can tell by the condition of this place.”
Oh, her sister had no idea. How would she hail a cab at this time of night? She would have to walk until she found someone who could help.
She looked down at Evan, his breathing labored. Blood from his thigh wound seeped through his britches, leaving a dark wet mark.
His eyelids fluttered.
Ally’s heart lurched. “Evan, can you hear me?”
“Alexandra…” His voice was hoarse and raspy.
“Yes, Evan, I’m here. You’ve been shot. I will get help for you. I promise you.”
He opened his mouth but nothing more emerged.
“Don’t try to talk. I will help you.”
“Too dangerous… I must…keep you safe…”
Ally’s heart nearly broke. Here he was, bleeding profusely, in pain, and he was concerned about her safety. Oh, she truly was in love with this man. She would never love another.
Had money really been so important to her that she had been ready to marry someone other than the man she loved more than her own life? What a self-centered imbecile she had been. She had to save Evan, one way or another. She had no medical training, and she had no idea where to even go for help at this time of night and in this area. But she would save him. Failure was not an option.
“Sophie, we have to get the bullet out.”
“Ally, you and I have a lot to talk about. Those people who took me, they thought I was you. They said you were writing for a—”
“I know. And I’m so very sorry, Sophie. But right now I can’t think about that, and I can’t talk to you about it. All that matters is Evan, don’t you understand?” Tears formed in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. “We can’t lose him, Sophie. We just can’t.”
“Of course. Of course I understand.”
“Dear Lord, I’ll do anything if only he’ll be all right.” Ally sobbed, her nose running, her voice cracking and choking. “This is all my fault, Sophie. You were taken because of me, and he was coming to save you. And now…” She gulped. “I may lose him. I may lose the man I love.”
Sophie gasped. “You love him?”
“I love him more than anything.” Ally laid her head on Evan’s chest, his heartbeat faint against her ear.
“Oh, Ally, I had no idea. You’ve always said how useless he is, and—”
“I was wrong.” Emotion flooded her. “He is everything. He is all I’ll ever want.”
“I will hold you to telling me all about this later. Right now we need to see to his needs.” Sophie stood. “I have no idea how to get the bullet out.”
“Nor do I.” Ally sniffed and willed herself to regain her composure. Losing it was not going to help Evan. “I need to go for help.”
“I’m sorry, Ally, but it’s just not safe. We’ve already got one person injured. I cannot risk losing you as well.”
“I fear if we try to remove the bullet we may cause further damage. Let’s just try to stop the bleeding before he bleeds out. Unfasten me, will you?” Ally turned her back to Sophie.
“Unfasten you? What for?”
“I want to tear my dress into strips to help stop the bleeding.”
“You’re not thinking clearly. Use your petticoats. We can use mine too.”
Ally shook her head. Of course, the petticoats. She had to think clearly or she would be no help to anyone, especially Evan. Her reticule was gone, but she did have a handkerchief in her pocket. She grabbed it, fitfully blew her nose, and gulped. “Of course, you’re right.” Ally pulled the petticoats out from under her skirt and began ripping them into strips. She took a fistful of the fabric and pressed it against Evan’s wound.
“We could use a tourniquet to stop the bleeding,” Sophie