Poul sat anxiously in the horse-drawn carriage, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was about to do - take Penelope away from everything she had ever known. But he couldn't bear the thought of living without her. He had planned everything meticulously, from hiring the coachman to arranging their passage on the ship to the United States. He had even contacted someone to create fake credentials for Penelope, so they could start a new life together.
But the most difficult part of the plan was still ahead of him. He had to stab Penelope in the abdomen which would mimic death, without harming her in any way. He had considered asking Caroline to synthesize the drug, but he knew it was a risky proposition. Caroline was a brilliant chemist, but she might not agree with his plan, and even if she did, creating such a drug was an arduous and time-consuming process.
Poul took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. He couldn't let his doubts and fears get in the way of his love for Penelope. He was willing to do whatever it took to be with her, even if it meant risking everything. As the carriage pulled up in front of the hospital, Poul steeled himself for the task ahead. He had to be strong for Penelope, no matter what.
In order to protect his identity, Poul disguised himself, wearing thick clothing and a mask.
There, he waited patiently for Penelope to arrive at the hospital. Normally, Penelope would arrive at the hospital in her personal carriage And that carriage doesn't have guards. A perfect opportunity.
Five minutes later, Penelope's carriage arrived.
Poul watched intently as Penelope stepped out of the carriage, her eyes scanning the area. He could see the concern etched on her face, and it broke his heart. He knew that what he was about to do would hurt her, but he had no other choice.
He quickly made his way toward her, his heart racing with every step. As he approached her, he reached over to the knife hidden beneath his thick coat.
Penelope, who was anticipating the next events, shuddered in place, but she quickly composed herself and faced him.
"What can I do to you, kind sir?"
Poul didn't reply, instead, he pulled out a knife and stabbed Penelope. This action horrified the onlookers and her personal coachman.
As the knife pierced Penelope's skin, Poul felt a pang of guilt and fear wash over him. He had never hurt anyone before, let alone the woman he loved. But he had to keep his focus, he couldn't let his emotions get in the way of the plan.
Penelope gasped in pain, her eyes widening in shock and confusion. She stumbled back, her hand clutching at her abdomen where the knife had struck. Poul knew he had to act quickly before anyone could intervene.
He scooped her up in his arms and rushed towards the waiting carriage. The coachman was already at the reins, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Poul gently placed Penelope inside the carriage, cradling her head in his lap as she moaned in pain.
"Drive quickly!" Poul barked at the coachman, who whipped the horses into a gallop. They sped away from the hospital, leaving behind a trail of dust and confusion.
As the carriage rattled along the cobblestone streets, Poul tried to calm his nerves and focus on the next part of the plan. Tending the wounds.
He already prepared a medical kit filled with medical supplies. He took a scissor and cut and snipped through her clothes, allowing him to see the wound clearer.
"I will pull out the knife, Penelope. So that I can stitch your wounds. Don't worry, I have some medical experience."
Poul carefully removed the knife from Penelope's abdomen, wincing at the sight of the blood that gushed forth. He quickly reached for the medical kit, pulling out a sterilized needle and thread.
He knew that time was of the essence. Penelope's wound was deep, and if left untreated, it could prove fatal. He focused all his attention on the task at hand, his hands steady as he threaded the needle and began to stitch up the wound.
Penelope lay still, her eyes closed in pain. Poul could feel her trembling slightly in his arms, and he knew that she was in shock. He tried to keep his voice calm and soothing as he worked, reassuring her that everything would be alright.
"Almost done, my love," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just a few more stitches."
After what felt like an eternity, Poul finally finished stitching up the wound. He carefully bandaged it and checked for any signs of infection. Penelope's breathing had slowed down, and she seemed to have calmed.
Poul breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that they were one step closer to their new life together. He gently stroked Penelope's hair, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. He knew that they still had a long way to go, but he was willing to face any obstacle as long as he had Penelope by his side.
"Penelope, are you alright? Aside from the wounds, is there a part that hurts more than the others?" Poul asked, his voice full of concern.
Penelope opened her eyes slowly, looking up at Poul with a weak smile. "I'm fine, my love," she whispered.
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "We are getting near the port now. I have prepared some dresses here for you to wear. I want you to wear one as your dress is currently covered with blood."
Penelope nodded weakly and allowed Poul to help her change into one of the dresses he had brought.
Five minutes later, the carriage finally came to a stop, jolting Poul out of his reverie. He looked out the window and saw that they had arrived at the docks.
Poul helped Penelope out of the carriage and onto the dock. He could see the ship that would take them to their new life waiting in the harbor, its sails billowing in the wind.
Poul looked around, scanning the crowd for any sign of trouble.
He took Penelope's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Are you ready for this, my love?" he asked, his voice soft.
Penelope looked up at him with determination in her eyes. "I'm ready," she said firmly.
