“The horse?” he asked.
“I’m afraid it was too injured. It told us where to search for you, though.”
How long had he been there? It didn’t matter, he conceded. He’d been recovered and he was severely injured, but not hopelessly so.
Lying there, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to get his mind around this. “How long will it take to heal?” he asked.
The man appeared in his sight. Slim and in his forties, with graying blond hair. “It will take some time. There is the healing to get you out of danger, which will take some weeks, and then recuperation, which will probably take some months. This is not something to be rushed. Slow and steady. If you have any plans for the next six months, I would reconsider them.”
Finn groaned. Six months, surely the man was exaggerating? No, he probably wasn’t.
“For now,” the man continued, having moved away again, “you should do nothing but rest. No sitting, no moving. I would suggest the use of a bedpan for a while, at least until we can fashion some kind of brace once the immediate healing is done. That should give you some more mobility. Until then, however, move as little as possible. And even then, move less. Have I made myself clear?”
“Repeatedly.”
“No excuse, then,” the man said, appearing again. Finn certainly didn’t like being spoken to like a naughty schoolboy, but conceded the man had made the required impression. “The laudanum will take effect in a few moments and you should sleep for a good few hours. I’ll speak to your man about your nursing requirements. It might pay to hire a trained nurse. You’re going to require care for some time.”
Lying with his eyes asleep, Finn heard the doctor pack his things and the hushed voices of the doctor and Mr. Fuller speaking. Had the man given his name? Finn didn’t recall. Slowly the laudanum started taking effect and his consciousness warped into sleep.
*
It was light when he woke next, a woman he’d never seen before giving him water. Annoyingly, she was quite pushy with the water, urging him to drink more and more. All he wanted to do was push the glass away, but he recalled that it was best not to move. He fell back to sleep, and this cycle repeated again and again.
The doctor was there when he woke next. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m tired,” he said, his voice rough. Even now, his eyes could barely keep open.
“That is natural. Your brain wants rest to heal itself, and that suits the rest of your body. You must keep drinking the water. And I think your staff are bringing you some broth to drink. It will restore you. Healing will go much faster if we antagonize the body as little as possible. You have a slight temperature,” the man said, placing a cool hand on his forehead. “That’s understandable. Your body is doing much work. Let it do its work. I will come see you again tomorrow.”
Finn didn’t have the energy for politeness, so he simply forgot the man was there, and moments later, he was sleeping again.
That blasted woman woke him to drink and all he wanted to do was sleep, but the best way to get rid of her was just to do it. After this, he might take pleasure in barring her from the room, but the best way to get rid of her was just to comply. For right now, he was at her mercy. Octavia Hennington entered his mind and it was who he imagined was forcing that infernal glass on him. He was too tired to confirm it wasn’t her.
The next day, he had a bit more energy. Not to move, it seemed, but to open his eyes. Doing so made him feel ill and he kept them closed as much as possible. The doctor fussed, listening to his heart. His mind lingered somewhere in between knowing where he was and not, but he knew something had happened and that it was very important he not move.
“You can move your arms. The break is below your shoulders,” the man said. “But if you move your head, you might regret it.”
His arm was weak, but he lifted it up on his chest and let it rest there. Finn opened his eyes, vaguely remembering what the man looked like.
“It’s good that you are a little more alert. It means that healing has happened. To the head, in the least. Your back still needs to mend, and it will take much longer. Do you recall me mentioning that I’m having a brace being made for you? It is not here yet, and you’re not yet in a state to wear it. The concussion will have to heal more, before there’s any point in putting it on.”
Finn nodded, and pain and nausea flared sharply. A riot of badness, and he instantly regretted the movement. The doctor had been right in that regard.
Chapter 17
ELIZA’S INTENSE BOUTS of illness continued, and they all became better at dealing with them, which made it less distressing for everyone. Some days she was fine, and other days she couldn’t keep anything down. It weakened her and Eliza would have to take to her room for the rest of the day. Caius, as much as she loved him, was practically useless when it came to the practicalities of illness. The fact that there was nothing he could do to fix it bothered him immensely.
At times it was
