To Captivate the Viscount by Aileen Fish

Author:Aileen Fish
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aspendawn Press

CHAPTER 11

The urgent rap upon the drawing room door of the Dixon home was followed by a muffled commotion, compelling CeCe to look up from her needlework with a furrowed brow. Beside her, Stavely unfurled the missive handed to him by the breathless footman with hands that betrayed not a tremor, yet his piercing blue eyes darkened as he read.

“Good heavens,” Stavely muttered, the paper crinkling in his grasp. “The Lieutenant’s been injured.”

“Lieutenant Grant?” CeCe asked sharply, setting aside her embroidery hoop as she stood. Her green eyes, always so vivid when alight with determination, now mirrored Stavely’s concern.

“None other. A skirmish with Johnson’s lot,” he replied tersely, already reaching for his coat. CeCe moved to assist him, her fingers deftly maneuvering the fabric over his broad shoulders.

“Then we mustn’t dally here,” she said.

“Yes.” The word was clipped, carried on the tailwind of their shared urgency.

They hastened through the cobblestone streets in Stavely’s carriage, the clatter of hooves punctuating the tense silence. Upon reaching the hospital—a stark, imposing edifice—Stavely offered CeCe his arm, lending her his strength as they navigated the somber hallways.

Upon entering the ward, the antiseptic sting of medicinal herbs met their nostrils, and the dull moans of the convalescing soldiers filled the air. At the sight of Lieutenant Henry Grant, pale and prostrate in his bed, Stavely’s composed exterior faltered.

“Grant, old chap,” Stavely greeted, voice thick with emotion as he approached the bedside.

“Stavely... Miss Dixon...” Grant’s words were feeble, barely more than a whisper against the sterile quiet of the sickroom.

“Rest, Henry. You need not speak,” CeCe soothed, taking the lieutenant’s hand in her own. The pallor of his skin was stark against her darker complexion, her touch was a silent vow of unwavering support.

“We are here for you, my friend. We shall see to it that you recover fully,” Stavely added, his usual charm absent, replaced by the naked sincerity only the gravest concern could unveil.

“Thank you,” Grant managed, his eyes fluttering shut as if even the gratitude he expressed demanded too great an effort.

“Johnson will pay for this,” Stavely said, his gaze locked onto his friend’s bandaged form. The statement hung heavy in the air, an unspoken promise of retribution.

“Let us focus on the present, Stavely,” CeCe interjected softly, yet with an undercurrent of steel. “We must ensure Henry’s comfort and convalescence. Justice can wait until he is out of peril.”

“Of course, you’re right, CeCe,” Stavely conceded, turning his attention back to Grant. “For now, we’ll remain by your side. You are not alone in this fight.”

“Stay with Henry. I shall return forthwith,” CeCe said, her tone brooking no argument as she swept out of the room.

With a sense of urgency that propelled her through the dimly-lit corridors of the hospital, CeCe approached the matron’s desk, her green eyes alight with determination. “Madam, I require your immediate assistance. Lieutenant Grant must be moved to a private chamber and attended by the finest physician available.”

The matron, taken aback by CeCe’s authoritative presence, nodded briskly. “Of course, Miss Dixon.

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