Madness by Sorcha MacMurrough

doctor. He would find the mysterious inmate called Simon. But just how far they would help would depend very much on what he discovered about the man, and just how dangerous he could really be.
     
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
     
    Antony had little time to worry about his promise to find Simon in view of the huge number of injuries they were confronted with once they arrived back at Bedlam.
     
    Once he had found Lucinda and seen she was in no serious danger, he had come back down and set to work with a will.
     
    There were so many in need of urgent care that Gabrielle even had to help with the stitching herself while Antony and Oliver tended to the more seriously injured. Very few of the Bedlam doctors were on site, a fact that they all found shocking. There had ben a riot--why was the hospital’s own staff not in attendance?
     
    But when he asked the question, the few nurses each shrugged.
     
    “Took the day off, I expect,” one of them said.
     
    “What, all of them? Do they not have a duty roster?” Antony demanded.
     
    “We did do, but it sort of got changed this week. We were given a half-day yesterday out of the blue.”
     
    Antony and Gabrielle looked at each other. It was all so strange, but for the life of them they couldn’t grasp why anyone would want the whole common ward to go mad and kill each other.
     
    Unless....
     
    Gabrielle shoved the thought to one side. No, it was just too horrible. Perhaps what Simon had said was right, the doctors experimenting with the patients, and that was bad enough. But her own suspicions that it would be easy to hide one dead body amongst many was just too gruesome to contemplate.
     
    She asked quietly for Simon whenever she got the chance, but they all stared at her blankly.
     
    In the end she gave up and asked for directions to Lucinda’s new room. Once there, she was relieved to see that her sister's color was better. She got her cleaned and changed, and checked her linens.
     
    Everything seemed to have settled down with her pregnancy. There appeared to be no fresh blood on the wadding, and she was sleeping peacefullly. Once she was sure that her sister was resting comfortably, Gabrielle looked around the small cell.
     
    A private room. It was almost a small miracle. She couldn’t leave anything valuable in it, but at least she could be certain that no one but the staff would come in or out and bother the mainly unconscious Lucinda.
     
    She rubbed her shoulder and side where the violent man had injured her. Funny how she hadn’t noticed them aching when she had been with Simon.
     
    She longed to feel his heart beating against her, his long length pressed up along the whole of her body. She wondered again what might have happened if they had not been interrupted by the men all charging in trying to come to their rescue. Ironically, that was the last thing she had wanted.
     
    But Simon had been right about one thing. It would have been extremely risky to go through with the act and then have to worry about pregnancy.
     
    She had certainly learnt enough about preventing conception at the clinic. When she took a lover, it would simply be a case of getting some sponges and vinegar or lemon juice. Or some of the sheepkin prophylactics which also prevented disease.
     
    And Simon would not be shocked. After all, he had said he lived in a brothel....
     
    Then she shook her head. Listen to her, planning for her own seduction at the hands of a madman with all of the finesse of an army general. A French army general, she thought with a giggle.
     
    For the French were reputed to be superb lovers, and she was sure Simon had to be at least partly French from his musical accent.  
     
    What she had seen of Simon had certainly more than confirmed the magnificent lover part. His every touch and kiss had been a devastating onslaught, even though he had been doing his best to hold back.
     
    Curiously, he didn’t even seem to be aware of his own power. In fact, he