Reaching over to apply some salve to the cuts on her forehead, John was startled when her eyes fluttered open. He saw the panic in them as she tried to sit up, shielding herself with her arms. Her half-wince, half-shriek of pain wretched his heart. He stood up and backed away, quickly raising both of his hands, palms out.

"Please don't move! I am not trying to hurt you. I found you on the road. You are badly hurt—I was just putting some salve on your cuts and bruises." He paused for a sign of acceptance. When she lay still, he moved closer. "I think you may have a few broken ribs. You probably need stitches on your shoulder and thigh. I am just rubbing the rest of this salve on your face, and we are going to wait for the doctor for the rest."

The panic in her eyes angered John. Not at her, rather for her. He was so angry it took a few moments and every ounce of his strength to reign in his own feelings. She was afraid of him, of men. He hated people who did this to women and children. How someone could hurt her like this! That's when he noticed her sea green eyes adjust and glisten over. He could see her jaw set, as she looked away from his direct stare. Her eyes seemed to scan the room. A moment later, she took a deep breath and looked at him again. She must be trying to get her emotions under control. Good.She was a fighter. 

"Let's put the rest of this balm on your cuts and bruises while we wait for the doctor. I know it is foul smelling—When you see Mrs. Perkins you can complain to her about that. She used to plaster me with this stuff. I promise to avoid hurting you as much as I can." She stayed still while he finished applying the salve and chattered incessantly of its awful odor. When John finished, he surveyed the supplies Watson brought him. The man was thorough. There was some bread and a bowl of broth. John cajoled her into drinking the broth to help build her strength.

After she had her fill of the broth, John took the vile of laudanum and held a spoonful to her mouth, "I am sorry, drink some of this, it's bitter, but it will help with the pain."

He did not have to wait long for it to take effect. "My name is John by the way. What's your name?" She frowned as she took a moment to think. He saw her green eyes widen as realization set in. She couldn't remember!

"I don't know, I don't remember. O God, I don't know who I am," she whispered.

John considered the revelation of the unknown woman for a second and forced a smile to ease her mind. "Don't worry, we can figure that out later. Let's finish dressing your wounds. I sent for the doctor, but he is delivering a baby in the next village over. I am certain he will be here as soon as he can."

She raised her right hand and slowly lifted the blanket to peek beneath it. He saw a bright crimson color creep up her neck and cheeks. This was quite a feat, considering all the black and blue bruising.

"Who—undressed me?" She studied his face while John kept silent. He saw the moment she realized it in her eyes. Another flush covered her bruised face. She had such expressive eyes. He found it amusing that in her state she was more worried about her attire or the lack thereof, than her damaged body. For the first time since he met her, John genuinely smiled.

"There is no need to be embarrassed. I was way too scared for your health to worry about what you looked like." She blushed even more.

She could not make eye contact with him, so she opted to regard the room instead, "I am so tired—" she said, as her eyes started to droop.

John was thankful when the laudanum took effect. She must have had an empty stomach. He was glad she would be able to sleep while he finished taking care of her wounds. Her eyes glazed over and closed. Her breathing deepened. Gently he applied the salve over her jaw and neck. He cleaned the cut on her collarbone and started working the salve into the bruised ribs. That must have hurt because her body jerked under his hands. God she was so injured.

He quickly finished what he was doing and went searching through her things. The clothes she had been wearing were completely ruined by the time he took all the jewels out of them. There was a fortune here. How was it possible that she possessed so much jewelry and was in that shape? Was she afraid of being caught and had avoided using the jewels? From the clothes in her valise, he could tell that chances were she came from a well-to-do family. Her garments were simple, lots of dark colors, but the cut and style were similar to the clothes he had seen women wearing during his two-week stay in London. Had she been kept somewhere? He would love to get his hands on the bastard who did this to her. A knock at the door snapped John out of his woolgathering. He quickly hid the jewels in the dresser and went to open the door.

***

Watson was waiting quietly with another man. As John's eyes adjusted to the light, he realized the man seemed familiar. "Your Lordship, the doctor is here. This is . . ."

John could barely restrain his surprise, he knew the doctor. He could not believe it! "Rob?"

"At your service, old man!" Robert smiled.

John was instantly relieved to see his old friend again. "My God, am I glad to see you. I had no idea you became a doctor." He pulled the door open and embraced his childhood friend.

"A lot has changed since the last time we saw each other." There was the understatement of the century. Robert glanced over John's shoulder and strolled into the room. "Perhaps we can catch up after I see to your guest." Rob could smell the faint odor of Mrs. Perkin's ointment. He smiled as he remembered the many lectures they received as it was applied to their cuts and bruises. When Robert stood next to the bed and saw its occupant, his childhood faded to the reality he was about to face. He whispered, "What the hell happened to her?"

John heard the accusatory tone in his friend's voice and bit back a nasty reply. "I don't know. This is how I found her. Actually, she looked a hell of a lot worse. I washed all the dried blood and mud off her."

Robert raised his eyebrow at John's hostile tone. "Well, damn, I didn't mean you were responsible," though perhaps he had been afraid of it. It was a relief to know he was wrong.

Robert quickly took notice of the bruises on the young woman's temple. The swelling was worrisome. "Why don't you let me examine her injuries? Has she been asleep this whole time?"

"No, she was awake a few minutes ago. I gave her a rather large dose of laudanum for her pain. If I have to guess, she likely has a few broken ribs on top of the cuts. I think two need stitching, the rest were scratches so I put salve on them already. One of the cuts is on her collar, and the other on her thigh." John responded.

Robert sat down on the bed, gently lowering the sheet covering the girl. John felt a twinge of unease as the wound was revealed. "I cleaned it as thoroughly as I could, but I didn't know what to apply to it or whether it needed stitching.

Robert opened his bag and extracted a brown bottle. He then folded one of the linen strips John handed him and poured some of the liquid mixture into the wound, dabbing at the excess. He took from his bag a needle and a pair of tweezers. Robert hurried over to the hearth and held the needle over the flames. When it turned bright red he returned to the bed. John was about to protest when Rob held up his hand and said, "There is a theory that this will decrease the chance of infection."

Robert passed a piece of thread through the needle and started stitching along the length of the wound. The girl twitched under his first stitch so Robert glared at John. Using a very familiar exasperated tone, he said, "Make yourself useful. Hold her down and keep her still. It will make a smaller scar that way."

John sat on her other side. He used his arms to hold her shoulder and arm against the bed. A small moan escaped her lips as Robert worked on the fourth stitch. John leaned down and reassured her softly, that she was safe and that it would be all over soon.

"It's a good thing you gave her a large dose of laudanum, at least she not feeling the pain from the stitching."

Over the next half an hour Robert mused at the tender and attentive manner his childhood friend was exhibiting. He finished the last stitch, tied the thread, cleaned the area, and dressed it. As he did so, he explained, "You need to change the dressing and keep the wound clean and dry for a few days, or call me over so I can do it—to prevent infection." Then he lowered the sheet to see her ribcage. He lightly felt around the bruises on both sides of her ribs and covered her back up.

Robert moved further down on the bed and began folding the bed sheets from below, "You are right, she has three broken ribs."

John noticed Rob's face cringe at the sight of the bruises until he got to her upper thigh. There was a ten-inch cut down her outer thigh. He repeated the same process with the needle, and went to work on the stitching. She twitched and again John reached to hold her down. This time he held her hand, her fingers intertwined with his own.

Robert saw the tight set of John's jaw and realized that he might have to distract his childhood friend. He said the only thing he could. "At this point the only thing we can do is care for her. We can work on getting the bastard that did this later. Concentrate on her welfare—you are squeezing her hand too hard. And from the appearance of those bruises, they probably hurt already."

John instantly released his grip on her hand. He had not realized how much pressure he was exerting. Robert finished after placing fifty-two neat stitches in her thigh. He stood up, rubbed his hands together, and stretched his stiff fingers. "You know, between the two of us, we make a hell of a lady's maid. You, with your cleaning and bathing skills, and I, well I am great with the needle."

That had finally managed to break John's mood. He started laughing, "We are quite efficient aren't we?"

Robert washed his hands and dressed her thigh, wrapping linen strips around her leg. He lifted the blanket and sheets over her legs as John continued to hold her hand.

She chose that moment to speak. She mumbled something in her slumber and then grew frantic. As if caught in a nightmare she pleaded, "No, no, please stop. I will do whatever you want! Please!"

Frowning at these words, John embraced her hand and whispered, "You are safe. No one will ever hurt you again. I swear that to you!" He stayed next to her, whispering soothing words until she finally calmed down and fell into a deep slumber.

***

Thank you for reading Chapter 10 of The Duke's Bidding. I hope you enjoyed the journey so far. Please remember to comment, vote and follow for the next update. Happy Reading!