Injury
There had been a row between two tenants that afternoon and as Miss Lister had seen it, she had stubbornly intervened. Trying to separate the two men who might have killed each other otherwise. Only the two men still tried getting at each other and Miss Lister was caught in the middle. Miss Lister was not known to be a helpless maiden but fighting two raging bulls at the same time weren’t, perhaps, her finest hour. One of the men held a knife and went to stab the other man with it but got Miss Lister instead. Not full on but a deep scratch right underneath her left breast. She was well-masked in her expressions and did not give away just how much that had hurt – years of monthly devils had prepared her for that moment. What it did was however baffling the man who had done it and she gave him a right hook resulting in a heavy nosebleed and the bystanders were shocked. Needless to say, the tenants, if they hadn’t known it before, now were fully aware of the fact that you should never mess with Miss Lister. She had however taken several punches albeit not to the face but determined not to show any sign of weakness, she held her head high and stalked off after growling telling the men that she would see them both about their tenancy tomorrow, first thing. It left the men white in the face, and Miss Lister was pleased.
Someone who were not as pleased with her was her sister, who had already got her hands on the fact that her sister had been in a fight in the middle of the streets in Halifax. She wasted no time in lecturing her as she entered the hallway of Shibden.
“Were you really in a street-fight, Anne? This is Halifax, everyone talks and it’s not always nice. They say you took on both Mr Baskerville and Mr Chamberlain, is that true? Tell me, that it’s not true, Anne!”
Anne fought hard not to roll her eyes at Marian’s rambles but alas the eye roll won.
“I went in between, I stopped the fight before they killed each other.”
Anne went straight past her sister, swaying only slightly because of the dizziness that were starting to fog her mind because of the wound that was bleeding on her chest. Marian did notice the stumble and went after,
“Are you drunk? Really, Anne, she’s only four!”
Aunt Anne and Miss Walker seemed surprised at this and looked up at the Lister sisters. Anne ignored Marian; she was not drunk in the slightest. Instead Anne bent down to give her aunt a kiss on the cheek and to greet Miss Walker with a subtle but intimate touch of the hand. Trying to act normal and not as if she had just gotten stabbed and beaten up. She would retire with the excuse of needing to change her attire. But Marian was by no means done with her sister, she had kept going on about Anne being a disgrace and now she had paused, hands on hips, nostrils flaring and with an exasperated look over her face she cried frustrated,
“They say you’re a man. A man in a frock. Do you have any idea of how emba…”
“That’s enough, Marian!” Anne roared, her wound reminding itself and she could feel her black waistcoat getting more and more soaked in her blood.
The room had started to spin ever so slightly, and Anne turned on her heels, leaving her astounded sister about to head upstairs. Her face only looking paler by the second. Marian might have thought it was remorse or stubborn pride, but Miss Walker and aunt Anne saw her pain and the older woman urged the blonde to go after her niece and give her a hand up the stairs – figure out what had gone wrong in Halifax really.
Miss Walker could not catch up with Anne until they had reached her bedroom. Anne was standing with her back to her, still oblivious to Ann’s presence in the room. She was too focused on not fainting from the pain she felt removing her coat and then her waistcoat. But nonetheless a hiss escaped her as she peeled the waistcoat off revealing the thin cotton shirt and under it her stays and chemise which was soaked in her blood. Ann’s eyes widened, and she trembled at the sight of all the blood but forced herself to be strong and went over to Anne, worry etched over her face, taking Anne’s waistcoat from her shaking hands.
“What happened to you?”
When Anne didn’t reply, Ann took her face gently in her hands, and forced the woman to look at her,
“Anne? Talk to me, do I need to send for the doctor?”
“No, not the doctor. ‘Tis but a scratch.” Anne weakly said and only after Ann had urged her with a gentle press to her hand. Ann took courage and looked down Anne’s form – at all the blood.
“We need to at least clean the wound.” Ann commented and she undid Anne’s cravat and as she did Anne started swaying, growing yet paler,
“I think… I think I’m about to be sick!”
Ann flew under the bed and retrieved the chamber pot to Anne and the brunette threw up violently into the bowl, all the while Ann stood rubbing her back for her, mumbling words of affection.
“Let us have you sit on the bed, Anne.”
With a soft and gentle hand pressed against the small of Anne’s back, she led her to sit down on the bed. They removed the stays which also were bloodied.
Careful, loving hands undid the front of Anne’s chemise and pushed it down over her shoulders and arms, down to her waist. Even if Anne moved as if uncomfortable with her chest being exposed, Ann payed her no heed. They needed to stop the bleeding.
Anne tried to cover herself with her arms, hissing in pain as she moved them as it stretched the wound, but firm small hands removed them,
“Ann.”
It was a plead.
“A dead wife is no good to me!”
A sharp look, and Anne resolved and let her arms rest at the sides of her body. Ann eyed the wound under her left breast with a frown, standing up to fetch the linen that lay by the wash basin. She brought the whole thing with some trouble, before kneeling in front of Anne again.
“This will probably hurt.” Ann whispered weary to bring Anne pain and Anne gave a nod closing her eyes, feeling more uncomfortable with her chest exposed in the light than by the fear that the cleaning of the wound might sting her. Again, the gentle and delicate hands were on her chest and only at the first touch with the cloth to her wound did Anne hiss making Ann grimace, lifting the cloth from her wound,
“So sorry!”
Anne shook her head decidedly, closing her eyes,
“Go on.”
Ann kept cleaning the wound,
“Why didn’t you tell us that you weren’t fine?”
It was said in a displeased tone, but Anne couldn’t help but find her wife adorable when she was angry,
“I’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound!” Anne persisted, and just then Ann rubbed a little harder having Anne gasp out in pain. Ann raised an eyebrow,
“You’re not fine! Admit it. Now how did this happen?”
Anne exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples with her fingers,
“I tried stopping Mr. Chamberlain and Mr. Baskerville from killing each other, I told you before!”
“You told Marian. Not me! So, if you would please use another tone with me.”
Ann dropped the cloth as she had finished cleaning Anne’s wound, at least it wasn’t so deep that it needed to be stitched.
“We need something to dress it with.” Ann said dryly, annoyed with Anne because she hadn’t told her immediately that she had been stabbed – she could have bled to death by her own stubbornness.
“In the third drawer.” Anne pointed at the bureau, and Ann stood up and opened it, and rolled her eyes at the bandages inside, saying that her wife was a bit eccentric was only the first name.
“Do you usually get in these sorts of scrapes then?” Ann asked as she started to wrap the bandage around her torso.
“It was just a scratch Ann! Calm down!” Anne yelled annoyed to lengths that everyone seemed to find her irrational because she had stepped in to do the right thing. This was earned a dark look from the blonde though,
“Yell at me again, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream.”
Anne would smirk at this, and say something witty if her spirits weren’t so low, instead she become more sombre than before,
“Are you done!? May I cover up again?”
Ann regretted her sentiment immediately, and frowned,
“I have seen you before – you do not have to be uncomfortable with me.”
“But I am.” Anne muttered, and Ann steadied herself on her knees, standing between Anne’s legs, touching her cheek gently,
“Is it because of things that Marian said? That people think you’re a man?”
The hurt that flashed in the dark eyes told Ann she was right. It tugged at Ann’s heart and she kissed Anne fiercely on the lips, mindful of the wound on her chest.
“Anne, you are perfect just the way you are. I love everything about you – all your curves and imperfections.”
“People have mistaken me many times for a… man.” Anne mumbled, and Ann kissed her again,
“They are just saying that to be hurtful! Because you are different, brilliant and clever – they feel threatened by you! Anne you are so handsome, so beautiful - don’t hide from me!” Ann ran her hands down Anne’s sides, feeling her curves as she placed soft kisses from her mouth, down her jawline and throat and over her naked and exposed breasts. Placing a last soft kiss over the bandage, looking up with a smirk,
“There, all better!”
Anne just stared at her with adoration and love, feeling as though her heart might explode with it for the woman in front of her, with teary eyes, and a trembling voice she said,
“You know, I didn’t think it possible to find someone who would love me for who I was – exactly who I am - never in my wildest imaginations! There is none who I love as much as I do you, Adney!”
“I love you too, but if you think that you can charm me into letting you out until that wound is healed – you are dead wrong.” Ann told her seriously and Anne chuckled despite it hurting her before kissing Ann’s corner of the mouth.
“If you stay with me, believe me when I say, I won’t be wanting to leave.”
Ann rolled her eyes humorously at her wife’s compliment. She knew it would be a hard few days trying to keep Anne indoors and out of scrapes. Her wife could be a right down baby sometimes she thought, but she was her wife and she loved her to death. Ann was chewing her lip as she thought, a bad habit of hers, and a growl from the throat of her wife forced her back to reality,
“If you bite your lip one more time, I’m going to do it for you!”
Ann blushed under her wife’s lustful stare, but then she smiled, and bit her lip once more, challenging Anne with a look.
“Go on then, I dare you!”