82. A Deadly Wound

                                    

                                              
"A knife wound?" The nurse's eyes narrowed.
                          
"Yes, I gasped, supporting myself against the counter. "And I feel dizzy, and it hurts so much... please, can you just get Dr. Stein?"
                          
"The chief surgeon? I don't think that—"

                          
"Please! I know him. My name is Farleigh. Lady Farleigh, of Barrington Hall? Please, I... ooh!" Uttering a suitable groan with a hint of a death rattle, I sank against the counter.
                          
"Lady Farleigh?" The nurse's eyebrows shot up, and so did their owner. She was up and around the counter in a flash. "Why didn't you say so, your Ladyship? Please, let me assist you, your Ladyship. This way, your Ladyship."
                          
Her arm came around me, and I convulsed. It was an extremely convincing convulsion, if I do say so myself.
                          
"Aargh!"
                          
"Your Ladyship? I'm so sorry, your Ladyship, what did I do wrong?"
                          
"You... ooooh.... You grabbed my wound..."
                          
"Oh, I beg a thousand pardons, your Ladyship. It won't happen again. Tom! Lester! Come over here!"
                          
Two minutes later, I was being rushed down a corridor, the nurse fluttering around me, and two strapping young orderlies flanking me, one of my arms over each man's shoulders. So far, my mission to Heatherwood to acquire male company was going splendid. Now I just had to find the right man, and all would be hotsy-totsy.
                          
"Where's doctor Stein's office, Lester?"
                          
Ah, what sweet music in my ears...
                          
"Down that corridor, and then the second turn to the left, Miss Hopkins."
                          
I was so excited, I almost forgot to stumble and groan. Only halfway down the corridor I remembered, and slumped forward so hard, the two men swayed for a moment in an effort to hold me upright.
                          
"Oh God. Are you all right, Miss?"
                          
"My Lady? Are you in pain?"
                          
I gave them a brave smile. "I'll be all right," I whispered. "I just need to see Dr. Stein, then I'll be all right."
                          
And that wasn't even a lie.
                          
"Move, you two!" The receptionist ordered. "Get her to the doctor, fast!"
                          
My feet left the floor and I was swept down the corridor at an impressive pace. I relaxed. Now that I was floating, I didn't have to stumble anymore, and could concentrate on groaning. I produced two Aaaaahrs, one three Ooohs and a very fine Aaarrrrgh before we reached our destination: a pristine white door with a shining messing plaque announcing: Roy Stein, MD – Head Surgeon.
                          
"Miss Hopkins, get the door open!"
                          
The receptionist darted forward, but before she reached the door, it swung open, revealing the form of a man I knew all too well.
                          
"What's all this racke—"
                          
His voice cut off abruptly when he saw me, and his jaw tightened painfully. "God! Cassy, what's happened to you!"
                          
I gave a pitiful little moan in reply. It was a really good one!
                          
"Stab wound, Dr. Stein," said the receptionist, her face pale. "I don't know how. She showed up at the front desk and—"
                          
"Explanations later! Get her inside now!"
                          
The orderlies carried me inside, and started towards a hospital cot in the corner. Halfway across the room, Roy swept me up in his arms and carried me the rest of the way. Tenderly, he deposited me on the cot, as if I were made of delicate rose petals that could crumble at the slightest touch.