Finn just tugged his ear and grinned. “You’re just sorry you didn’t think of it.”
“I’ll pound you, you little—” Rufus lunged, but Bram held him back.
“Hold there,” he said. “Both of you.” Once he had both boys by the collar, he cast a glance at Charlotte Highwood, who looked as excited as any fourteen-year-old girl could be about having two boys fight over her attentions. She surely wasn’t going to be of any help in calming them. The crowd of onlookers appeared more amused than anything.
Bram knew he had to make it clear that boys or no, brothers or no, such fighting wouldn’t be tolerated. “Now, listen,” he said sternly, giving each boy a rough shake. “This isn’t seemly behavior for two—”
“Help! Oh, help!”
They all turned toward the frantic female voice.
The ladies clustered in the entry of the tea shop-turned-tavern. Miss Diana Highwood sat slumped in the doorway, struggling for breath. Her complexion was pale and clammy, and her fingers were curled into misshapen fists.
“It’s her asthma again,” Mrs. Highwood said, her hands fluttering. “Oh dear. Oh dear. This wasn’t supposed to happen here. Miss Finch promised Spindle Cove would be her cure.”
Susanna was already there, one hand soothing the gasping woman’s shoulder. “Her tincture,” she said calmly. “Where is her tincture? She keeps it in her reticule.”
“I . . . I don’t know. It might be inside, or at the inn, or . . .” Charlotte paled. “I don’t know.”
“Search inside,” Susanna told Fosbury. “The tables, the floor, the pianoforte.” To a few of the other ladies, she said, “Go search the Highwoods’ rooms at the inn.”
Once these runners had been dispatched, she caught Rufus’s eye. “I have a spare batch in my stillroom. A blue bottle, right side of the top shelf. You and Finn run as fast as you can to Summerfield and bring it back.”
The twins nodded and dashed off down the lane.
“Let me go instead,” Bram said.
She shook her head. “They need the distraction.” Her gaze flicked to Bram’s knee. “And they’re faster.”
Right. And Bram was just a lamed, useless lump. “Shall I go for a doctor?”
“No,” she answered firmly. “She’s been subjected to enough doctors. And there’s no proper physician for miles, at any rate.”
He nodded and stepped back. Damn it. He would never shy from a battle. He’d accept any risk to his own life, if it meant saving another’s. But there was nothing he could do to help Susanna right now, and the feeling ate him raw. If he’d learned one thing in his eight months of convalescence, it was that he didn’t cope well with helplessness.
But Susanna had this entire scene under control. Turning her attention to Diana, she spoke calmly, stroking the young woman’s back in slow, soothing circles. “Just relax, dear. Remain calm, and you’ll come through this.”
“It’s here. The tincture. It’s here.” The blacksmith emerged from the tea shop, his face stark and pale. He pressed a tiny bottle into Susanna’s hand and stepped back immediately.
“Thank you.” With sure fingers, Susanna unscrewed the bottle’s top and measured a capful of dark liquid. She looked to Bram. “Will you hold her? If she trembles, the medicine might spill.”
“Of course.” Finally, something he could do. He knelt beside the gasping woman and wrapped her slender body in his arms. Her tremors shook through him.
“Don’t be afraid to hold her tight,” Susanna said. “Just keep her immobile.” She tilted Diana’s head back to rest against his shoulder, then poured the capful of tincture between her quivering, blue-tinged lips. “Swallow, dear. I know it’s difficult, but you can do it.”
Miss Highwood nodded a bit and managed a choking, harsh swallow. Then her gasping resumed.
“What now?” Bram asked, looking to Susanna.
“Now we wait.”
They waited, in tense, painful silence, listening to the sounds of Miss Highwood struggling for breath. After a few minutes, her rasping softened to a gentler wheeze, and a faint wash of pink returned to her cheeks. No matter what ribbing he might take for it later, Bram decided right there—pink was his new favorite color.
As Diana’s struggles eased, everyone watching drew a deep, grateful breath.
“That’s it,” Susanna murmured to her friend. “That’s it. Take deep, slow breaths. The worst is behind you now.”
Bram released the young woman and left her in Susanna’s care.
“It’s all right, dear,” she mumbled, stroking Diana’s damp brow. “It’s over now. All’s well.” Then Susanna glanced up, and her face went blank with dismay. “Heavens. Just look at this place.”
Bram watched as she made a slow, heartrending survey of the scene. Her gaze traveled from the shambles of the tea shop, to the broken glass in the lane, to the trembling woman in her arms. Miss Highwood might have survived this episode, but Spindle Cove’s peaceful atmosphere had not.
Minerva Highwood came dashing out from the Queen’s Ruby. She flew straight to her sister’s side, taking her hand. “Diana. My God, what’s happened?”
“She had a breathing crisis,” Susanna answered. “But she’s better now.”
Minerva kissed her sister’s pale brow. “Oh, Diana. I’m so sorry. I should never have left you in that place. I knew the dancing was a bad idea.”
“It was hardly your fault, Minerva.”
Minerva’s head whipped up. “Oh, I know very well whose fault it was.” Her gaze focused on a distant target. “This is all your doing.”
To a one, every head in the crowd swiveled to face Colin. But Bram felt the guilt landing squarely on him. To be sure, his cousin was responsible for this mess. But Bram was responsible for his cousin.
Susanna knew it, too. While everyone else was glaring daggers at Colin, her eyes met Bram’s. And her gaze couldn’t have said any more plainly, I warned you this would happen.
“We never should have stayed in this wretched place,” Mrs. Highwood wailed, clutching a handkerchief to her mouth. “Lords or no lords. I knew that spa in Kent would have been the better choice.”
“Mama, please. Let’s discuss this inside.” Minerva took her mother by the arm.
Slowly, Susanna helped Diana Highwood to her feet. “Come along, ladies. Let’s take her back to the rooming house where she can rest.”