Why hadn't he told her about the cannons? There was no excuse for his action and now they were paying the consequences. Yet had he told, he might not have excused himself from the men to catch her reaction to it all, and he might not have heard her scream. Then again if he had told her, she might not have been up there in the first place. She could have been better prepared. She might have even been out there with them wanting to watch. Idiot!
No matter the 'shouldna-coulda-woulda's', what he could affect was now and that's precisely what he planned to do. Turning out of the room, -he didn't bother closing the door- Frederick hurried down the hall careful not to jolt his cargo too much. He was coming down the stairs when the Captain let another one go, and -as always- the house shook.
Despite the rattling of the banister, Frederick held steady. The sudden movement was nothing new to him. Even Mrs. Pench who had been with master far more than he, often recognized his even footing during the whole activity. Though he would admit having the extra weight and being in an alarmed state did make the task more difficult than usual. Despite it all, Frederick managed to get to the bottom without one stumble or trip.
Now that that was over, his next step would be to find Mrs. Pench and have her assist him. Frederick did have some basic healing knowledge but he feared Alice's injury would require more than just a thorough cleansing and bandage.
As he paced toward the kitchen, Frederick looked down to survey the gash in the housekeeper's forehead. The blood had begun pooling in the cut and continued to stream down her face. some dripped onto her clothes. Her dress would be ruined if he didn't stop the bleeding soon. That wardrobe must have been filthy for Alice to be taking such measures as to balance on a rickety old spindle chair in order to clean it. The last thing he wanted was for her to suffer an infection.
Coming through the kitchen door and finding the room empty, Frederick checked the staff lounge and then the back room finding them equally vacant as the kitchen. Where is that woman?
"Mrs. Pench!" he shouted -which he utterly hated doing-. Worry for Alice was fastly becoming frustration.
"Mrs. Pench!" he tried again but his call was drowned out by the boom of the 12-pounder Howitzer.
On the verge of growling Frederick braced himself against the shaking response of the floor beneath him. Fine. If she wasn't coming he would have to deal with Alice's wound to the best of his abilities. After all the cook couldn't stay in hiding all day.
Should he lay Alice out right here on the dining room table? Or somewhere more comfortable? say....one of the back parlor sofas? No no, not the back parlor. That was far too close to where Prescott and Michael were shooting the cannons on the balcony. The front parlor maybe? No, too far from the kitchen where all the supplies needed to clean her head were kept. Frederick turned his head from side to side, this decision was taking far too much time. Think, man. Think!.... Ah-ha! Study!
That was perfect. Rerouting his steps, Frederick went back through the kitchen, to a door off of the staff lounge which led to the office Master Prescott had dubbed Frederick's Study. Frederick rarely used his "office" he much preferred to be moving about the house, but at this moment he thanked God for it being given to him for whatever use he saw fit, and right now, that was tending to the lovely woman currently limp in his arms.
Over the past weeks, he had grown rather fond of Alice Kinly. She was the most amusing person. And by far easiest to tease. Frederick never considered himself the teasing sort, but Alice made it so, so easy. Her reluctant smile mixed with those frustrated glares she often gave him, unknowingly became something he craved. Her company was wanted too. She had this way of talking that made him feel as though he didn't have to, a most freeing experience. And now his newfound friend was hurting because of him. Nothing like causing excruciating pain, to show appreciation!
Only experiencing a little difficulty with the door handle, Frederick stepped inside and went directly for the dark brown settee that sat against the far wall. He was leaning over to set her down when she started to stir.
She gave a delicate little groan. Her eyebrows began to scrunch together but were stopped by a sharp intake of breath. Discomfort shifted to pain, tuning her features into a grimace. Lowering her all the way Frederick gently extracted his arms from her.
Brushing some fallway curls from her forehead, he blew out a breath, "Okay...." he whispered, collecting his thoughts. He was eager to comfort her but not knowing quite what to do, he knelt and took her hand. He knew, first and foremost he should clean that nasty gash, but he couldn't leave her with her features still twisted in pain like that.
Not knowing what else to do Frederick began talking, "You're going to be alight Alice." he said, "I caught you, and now I am going to do my best to take care of you until Mrs. Pench turns up." It wasn't Shakespeare but it was all he had.
Some of the lines on her forehead disappeared.
Talking seemed to be working, "I'm...sorry, Alice." he continued, "I should have warned you. I'm sorry this happened. It was never my intention to--for you to get hurt. I--I'm sorry."
She looked a little more relaxed. At least enough for him to move. He kissed her pathetically lifeless hand, then stood and left her there with an apology he would no doubt have to repeat once she regained full consciousness.
Mrs. Pench better show up soon, there was only so much Frederick could do.
*// As always, let me know what you think, and happy reading ;) \\*
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