Don’t be silly. He’s gone to get help. What did you expect him to do? Sit with you and watch the rain fall?
After a few moments, scraping noise near her head caused her to nearly leap out of her skin.
“Ellen?” Mark’s hoarse voice sounded by her ear, just on the other side of the wood wall.
She turned to find a knothole, shaking uncontrollably. “I thought you went for help!” Freezing water streamed down her back, puddling in her skirts.
“I’m not leaving you. I promised never again. Remember?”
Hot tears spilled over her eyes, burning tracks down her dirty cheeks. “You’re here?”
“I left through the hole and came around the wall to reach you.” He huffed, as if he struggled to breathe.
Could his cracked ribs pierce his lungs?She needed out. Now. She needed to get him to a doctor immediately.
Two of Mark’s fingers fitted through the knothole, so close to her face she could reach out and kiss them. His other hand slipped through the mud and under the base of the wall. He heaved, groaning, and the rotten wood ripped free.
“You did it!” Ellen shrieked again, this time with joy. “Mark.” She strained against the rope that kept her. “I take everything back. Go to Oxford if it will make you happy. I’ll learn to cope with it.”
Mark’s head came through the hole first, coated in mud anddebris. Then his hands and chest. “Hold still,” he murmured, bringing a sharp scrap of metal to her back.
Ellen winced as the metal sliced into her hands. The cold and the lack of light made Mark’s sawing efforts clumsy, but she wouldn’t complain. She was just grateful they were alive. At last the final strands of the rope frayed, and she jerked her hands out of the knots, rolling her wrists carefully. “Oh, thank goodness.” Ellen immediately pulled the broken shingles and boards off her feet, throwing them with abandon despite the lancing pain in her hands. Rain splattered down on her from the sky and from the splashes she was making in nearby puddles with the rubble. When at last they were free, she chafed her ankles, trying to draw the blood back into them. Hot, sticky liquid slipped from her hands to her feet and she winced.
Mark leaned over her with the metal to slice the ropes around her ankles. She sighed in relief as they fell into the mud, and she turned to crawl out of the hole and into Mark’s arms.
She clutched him, sobbing with relief and exhaustion. “You’re here, you’re here. Oh, God, Mark, I’d thought I’d lost you.”
His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to him. She couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t care. She squeezed his neck and burrowed close. Their clothing hung wet and heavy between them, and she tasted the mud on his coat.
Mark buried his face in her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair. “Ellen, by God, Ellen, never do that to me again. I almost died a thousand times tonight wondering if you were still alive. I’m not going to Oxford. Not after this.” He pulled back enough to kiss her. It was hard and possessive, a stamping of his love and desire on her, a brand to keep her safe from all harm.
Ellen gasped into his mouth and claimed him just as fiercely.No Oxford?Her mind spun, and she didn’t know if it was because of his kiss or because of the lack of oxygen. She’d never heard of any man taking his wife’s profession seriously. Most career women were either single or quit their jobs upon marriage. Could he be happy with no Oxford?
“We have to get you warm. It’s been too long.” Mark loosened his grip and staggered to his feet, slipping in the mud.
Ellen held his shoulders and tried to stand, but her feet tripped over themselves and she fell into the mud.
“What’s wrong?” His voice came sharp and fast.
“It’s my feet. They’re so numb I can’t walk on them,” she got out through chattering teeth.
“I’ll carry you.” Mark leaned down and put one hand around her back, the other under her legs.
“You can’t, you have broken ribs,” she protested.
He hauled her up anyway, his face going white with pain. He steadied himself, setting his jaw, and carried her up the alley.
“To the dispensary,” she told him, arms around his neck. “We need to examine you.”
He looked at her with faint amusement. “We need to examineyou.”
“And find a police watchman,” Ellen said. “O’Malley must be reported.”
By the time they were halfway there, Ellen persuaded Mark to set her on the ground. He gasped as he lowered her, and she knew she had to walk the rest of the way, even if her feet were broken and bleeding, because she couldn’t be the cause of Mark’s pain.
We need to find a path forward for us both.She remembered how Mark had purchased her the herbs without a single complaint, protest, or concern. He’d trusted her and supported her. She’d been so anxious she hadn’t even realized what he was going through, too. They could find a path together. Maybe.
They walked slowly, hand in hand, leaning on one another, shivering in the night.