She must h
ave dozed off because the next thing she knew the carriage had stopped, and Nick was shouting orders again. Strong arms lifted the stretcher and carried her into Nick’s house. All the movement was making her sick to her stomach and she hoped she would not disgrace herself by bringing up the little bit of food in her stomach. She found keeping her eyes focused on one thing helped.
An older woman hurried toward them as they maneuvered the stretcher up the stairs. “Take her to the second door on the right side. It’s the only room that’s made up.”
The woman, obviously the housekeeper, conferred with Nick as the men brought her upstairs. She really could have walked, but with her nausea and lightheadedness it was probably best to allow them to carry her.
She was jostled and bumped, but finally settled in a very large, comfortable bed. Nick bent over her. “Mrs. Fletcher will take good care of you. I will be out for a while. If you need anything at all, just ring this bell.” He placed a small silver bell on the table next to her.
Although she’d been raised with servants, the idea of ringing a bell while lying in bed just seemed a tad dramatic, but she said nothing. Again, he lowered his head and kissed her. Whatever was going on? Was he still pretending to be her fiancé? It was not necessary with the doctor and nurse nowhere in sight.
With a flurry Nick and the two men who had carried her left the room and closed the door. Mrs. Fletcher approached the bed. She was a pleasant looking woman—although Pamela reminded herself so was Mrs. O’Leary—and offered her a warm smile. “Good evening, Lady Pamela. I am Mrs. Fletcher, Mr. Smith’s housekeeper. Mr. Smith told me very little of your situation, but he seemed to be a hurry to leave.”
“Th-thank you f-f-for l-letting me stay h-here.”
Mrs. Fletcher did not react to Pamela’s stutter which told her Nick must have warned the woman. She smiled softly. “My dear, this is Mr. Smith’s house. I am happy to do for you anything you need.” She picked up the small bell. “Just ring this and I will hear it. This time of the day I am finished with my duties and my room is right above this one, so I can hear it.”
“One th-thing you can h-h-help me with is th-the toilet.” She blushed furiously, even though it was a woman to woman request. Mrs. Fletcher was still a stranger.
“Oh, my dear. Of course. Can you stand? I’m not sure what your injuries are.”
“It s-s-seems my wrist was sp-sprained and I have a l-l-ot of bumps and b-b-bruises. But I b-b-believe I c-can stand.”
“Good, we have a toilet room right next to the bathing room at the end of the hallway. If you will allow me to assist you, I can get you up and help you walk there.”
Pamela groaned as she sat up with Mrs. Fletcher’s help. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stopped to catch her breath.
“I can fetch a chamber pot if it’s too difficult for you to walk,” Mrs. Fletcher said.
As much as Pamela preferred the privacy and lack of embarrassment in using the toilet, the nausea returned with her movement and perhaps a chamber pot was best. “Y-yes, I th-think a chamber p-p-pot is better.”
“Not to worry, my dear. In all my years I’ve handled hundreds of chamber pots. Just give me a minute.” She helped Pamela sit up against the bed headboard and left the room.
Pamela closed her eyes and the vision of the carriage coming at her immediately appeared. It was highly unlikely it had been an accident. And from the way Nick had behaved he didn’t think so either.
She shivered realizing that someone wanted to kill her. Or at least seriously hurt her. No. She leaned more toward murder. As much as she hated to think so, Mrs. O’Leary had to be part of what had happened to Lizbeth and the other girls that had disappeared.
Nick said he’d gained some information, but with moving her from the hospital and then his quick escape it might be some time before she found out what he knew.
The door opened and Mrs. Fletcher returned with the chamber pot. “Here you go, dear. I’ll just slip this under you and be back in a bit to collect it.”
Pamela bit down hard on her lip when she shifted to sit on the chamber pot, the aches and pains in her body seeming to grow worse. “Th-thank you.”
Once she was finished, and feeling a lot better, she used the little bell to summon Mrs. Fletcher even though she felt uncomfortable using it.
“All right, dear, now can I get you some tea? Or perhaps a bit to eat?” Mrs. Fletcher was a very cheerful woman who made Pamela smile in spite of her pain and worry.
“A c-cup of t-t-tea would be wonderful. I’m afraid m-my st-st-stomach would not h-hold any food right n-now.”
“I understand. Then tea it is. Also, the doctor left some laudanum for you to take, but Mr. Smith told me not to give it to you until he returned.”
“Do y-y-you know wh-where he went?”
Mrs. Fletcher crossed her arms at her waist and shook her head. “All he told me was to expect two men to arrive who will be staying here for a while. Protection, he said.”
Protection. She closed her eyes and sighed. That word sounded wonderful.
“Protection.”