by Brianna York
Forrest blinked again. “My ankle hurts a bit...mostly it’s just my head,” he said, sounding a little more like himself.
Matthew nodded, knowing that Marcus was hurrying, but wishing that Forrest was already at the house and under the care of a doctor. “Hang on for a bit and we will get you back to the house.”
Forrest nodded without thinking, then groaned, shutting his eyes tightly. “I should never have gone for a ride this morning,” he croaked out, fighting the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm him.
Knowing that his friend should not fall asleep, Matthew replied, “Nonsense, Forrest. How were you to know that this would happen?”
Forrest grit his teeth, setting a muscle to ticking in his cheek. “You are right, as usual, Matthew. What blasted timing.” He remembered his wedding then, and his eyes flew open. “Dear God! The wedding! I am already late, aren’t I?” he attempted to sit up before a fresh wave of paralyzing nausea forced him to lay back on the grass and close his eyes against the thundering pain in his head and the sweep of dizziness that accompanied it.
“Lay there and be still,” Matthew commanded his friend. “The wedding will wait.” He regarded his friend’s closed eyes for a moment then asked, “What happened, Forrest?”
Forrest thought back for a moment. “We were just crossing the bridge...Apollo suddenly leapt into the air as if he had been shot out of a cannon. He ran off...once we were off the bridge I tried to turn his head around to stop him. He must have slipped on the wet grass and then... I don’t remember anything else,” he said haltingly, his voice sounding thin.
Matthew glanced over at Apollo, feeling his stomach clench at the sight of his swollen leg. “I thought that I was giving you a lovely wedding present by offering you Apollo to ride this morning,” he said softly.
“It was not your fault,” Forrest said firmly. “I wish I knew what scared him.”
“It is not like Apollo to bolt,” Matthew returned, feeling the first stirring of suspicion.
Forrest smiled thinly. “I suppose that there is always a first time for everything.”
Matthew shrugged. “Perhaps. I wish to God that he had not chosen today to break his own rules. In any case, he will be on stall rest for quite some time if that leg is not broken.”
Forrest winced at his friend’s clinical tone of voice. “I surely hope that it is not. A fine animal should not have to be put down due to my poor horsemanship.”
Matthew placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. “That is nonsense and you know it, Forrest. You are too good a rider to have handled the situation wrongly. It was an accident.” He wished that he felt as certain as he sounded.
A few minutes more elapsed with Matthew forcing Forrest into conversation to keep him awake before Marcus returned with the carriage and Steven.
“Dear Lord!” William breathed out when he caught sight of Forrest’s ashen face and muddy clothes.
“Let’s get him to the carriage with as little jostling as possible,” Matthew ordered the other two men. Forrest stifled a moan as the three men lifted him carefully and carried him haltingly over the slightly uneven terrain to the waiting carriage. “Sorry, old man,” Matthew apologized as they eased Forrest into the carriage and onto the hard seat.
Forrest’s face was very pale, but he managed a thin smile. “Don’t be. I’m quite all right.”
Matthew did not agree with that assessment at all, but he decided not to argue. “I have to ride my horse back home and Marcus has to drive. You must stay awake until we get to the house, Forrest.”
“I shall try,” Forrest replied, swallowing hard.
Matthew decided that was the best that he could expect from his friend and he turned away to go and collect Apollo. William was stroking the Deuce’s neck soothingly, but his eyes were on Apollo.
“What happened?” William asked Matthew, relinquishing Deuce’s reins and dropping quietly to one knee. He took a hold of Apollo’s leg at the ankle and ran his fingers lightly down the length of the tendon. The gelding snorted and drew away from William’s gentle fingers so sharply that he nearly fell.
Matthew’s mouth was set in a grim line. He shook his head regretfully. “Forrest said that he was crossing the bridge when the horse ran off as if he were fleeing for his life. When Forrest tried to turn his head to stop him, he slipped and fell.”
William nodded and released the stallion’s leg. Clucking to the horse, he pulled gently on the reins. The horse leaned backward reluctantly against the pressure, then managed to stumble forward a step. William led him forward a few more steps, each one as obviously painful to the horse as the first. “Woah, son,” he murmured to the horse, stroking Apollo’s neck gently. He glanced over at Matthew and shook his head.
“Is it broken do you think?” Matthew inquired, feeling a lump constricting his throat. It pained him extremely to think of all the hours he had spent patiently training Apollo as having come to naught but his dearest friend’s grave injury and the premature end of the horse’s life.
William sighed. “I cannot be certain, but I think it is an injury to the tendons.”
Matthew nodded, closing his eyes. “Thank you for coming to lead him home, William.”
William’s weathered face creased into a grim smile. “You know I would have sent no one else to lead him home, Matthew.” He turned away from his employer to stroke the white-star on the horse’s forehead.
Matthew nodded at his coachman, then swung aboard his horse and sent him into a canter to catch up with the carriage. The ride home seemed to take all of eternity to Matthew, but it was not much over ten minutes later when the carriage drew to a halt outside the stables. Matthew handed his horse off to one of the stable boys, then ran to the house to call for Milton.
“What is it, Your Grace?” The butler called as he came at a run to answer his employer’s yell.
“I need your help,” was all Matthew said, turning away and hurrying over to the carriage.
“Dear Lord!” Milton exclaimed, catching sight of Forrest’s sprawled form on the seat of the carriage. “Whatever has happened?”
“Later, Milton,” Matthew snapped. “Let’s get him inside.”
Twenty-Six
"I
already summoned the doctor,” Marcus told Matthew as they maneuvered Forrest out of the carriage and across the street.
“Good,” Matthew replied. Forrest closed his eyes tightly as they went up the stairs into the kitchen. “Sorry, Forrest,” he said to his friend yet again.
“Quit apologizing,” Forrest rasped out, then grit his teeth and closed his eyes as a fresh wave of discomfort made itself known.
The threesome carried Forrest up the stairs gingerly. They made enough noise, however, to alert Alex, who burst into the hall in a cloud of white skirts. “Forrest!” she cried, her voice barely above a whisper, but so piercing in its tone that it startled them all. “What happened?” she demanded, rushing over to follow the group as it made its lurching way down the hall. She hurried ahead of the men and pushed open the door to Forrest’s room.
“Apollo and Forrest had an accident,” Matthew replied as they settled Forrest onto the bed as carefully as they could. He was so pale and drawn looking that Matthew was afraid to speak to him. “Are you all right, old man?” he asked his friend.
Forrest licked his lips, then said carefully, “I think so.”
Alex swept into the room and knelt beside the bed in a puddle of skirts, her hand finding Forrest’s and squeezing it firmly. “You can never be conventional, can you?” she teased him, her voice sounding strained to her ears. “You could have just told me that you had cold feet, you silly man. No need to go and injure yourself.”
Forrest managed a smile at that and he turned his head carefully on the pillow so that he could look at his betrothed. She swam in doubled form before his eyes, but he was nevertheless glad of the sight. “I assure you that I did not have cold feet. I am terribly sorry, Alex,” he said softly.
> Alex felt tears pricking her eyelids as she leaned forward and kissed him gently. “Nonsense, Forrest. There is nothing to apologize for,” she assured him, a catch in her voice. She thought of how his face had looked just before he left her room earlier, and closed her eyes with a shudder. She had never considered the possibility that she might be left with nothing else but that beautiful memory of him.
“Get some water,” Matthew ordered his butler. He remember the guests suddenly, and he called after the servant, “Oh, and send word to Rob that the guests are to go home now.”
“Yes Your Grace,” Milton returned before leaving the room quickly.
“Dammit, where is that doctor?” Marcus ground out as he stared out the window pensively.
As if summoned by Marcus’s words, there was a rap on the open door of the room and everyone looked toward the sound to see Dr. Connelley standing in the doorway. Connelley’s father had been the Hargreve family’s doctor and Connelley junior had simply stepped into his father’s shoes when it came time for the older man to retire. Matthew firmly believed that there was no better physician to be had in all of England.
“Good day to all of you,” Connelley said briskly as he stepped into the room. “What has happened this time?”
Matthew gave the doctor a brief account of Forrest’s mishap in the park as the man began to check his friend over. “I see,” Connelley said when Matthew had finished. “What hurts, My Lord?”
“Mostly my head,” Forrest returned, his voice sounding stifled and cottony again. “And my left ankle.”
“Matthew,” the doctor said, “can you remove the Baron’s boots?”
“Of course,” Matthew replied, easing the boot off the uninjured foot first then working more gently on the one that Forrest had said was painful. “Almost off,” Matthew assured his grim-faced friend just before the boot finally slipped free.
“The left ankle you said?” Connelley asked. Forrest verified with a subtle nod of his head. “Well then, let’s start there.” The doctor glanced at Alex. “Might I have some room to examine him, Lady Alexandra?”
She nodded and rose unsteadily. She made her way across the room looking a bit lost and Matthew caught her hand once she was close enough for him to do so. He smiled at her and pulled her to him so that he could wrap an arm around her shoulders and hug her close to him. She managed a quavering smile in return before her eyes went to Forrest and the doctor.
“Here is the water that you wanted,” Milton said as he stepped into the room carrying a pitcher and a glass.
“Put it over there, Milton,” Matthew directed the servant. “Have the guests begun to leave?”
Milton nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. Lord Coulthurst will be up shortly I believe.”
“Good. Thank you, Milton,” Matthew replied by way of dismissing the man from the room. Milton hovered for a few moments, his concerned gaze on Forrest’s still form before he withdrew from the room.
“Well,” Connelly said a few minutes later. “The ankle is not broken, but I am afraid that the Baron has suffered a rather bad concussion. It may take up to a week for the symptoms to subside and in the immediate future he should not be allowed to fall asleep. I will come back around and check on him tonight. Keep him still and awake until then.”
Matthew nodded. “Of course, Doctor.”
Connelley smiled at Matthew. “He will be quite all right Matthew. Do not look so grim.”
Matthew managed a smile for the doctor and nodded. “Thank you, Connelly.”
“Yes, thank you, Doctor,” Alex contributed, smiling gratefully at the doctor before slipping past him to kneel again by the bed.
“I shall be back tonight,” Connelley reminded Matthew before he left the room. “Good day, Lord Coulthurst,” he said to Rob as he passed him just outside Forrest’s door.
“Forrest is all right, isn’t he?” Rob asked as he stepped into the room, his face drawn with concern.
“I shall be fine in a few days, Rob,” Forrest’s creaky voice replied before Matthew could answer Rob.
Rob’s relief was palpable. “Thank goodness for that.”
“Indeed,” Forrest replied with a touch of his usual dry humor.
“Well,” Matthew said with a sigh. “I assume that you are going to take the first shift by Forrest’s bedside, Alex?”
“And perhaps the second and third as well,” Alex replied firmly, gripping Forrest’s fingers tighter.
“I shall come back up in a while to make sure that you do not need anything,” Matthew assured his sister, catching Marcus’s eye and inclining his head toward the door. Alex did not answer him as Marcus shuffled past to follow Rob into the hallway. Matthew stayed a moment longer, his eyes concerned and his heart heavy with suspicion. He watched his sister raise Forrest’s hand to her lips and felt tears sting his eyes. Surprised at the emotional violence of his reaction to the sight, he quickly turned and left the room, pulling the door shut softly behind him. Rob was standing in the hall, his expression brooding and thoughtful as he stared into space.
“Where is Marcus?” Matthew asked his friend.
Rob started a bit, as if awaking from a trance and blinked at Matthew to bring him into focus. “Milton brought him a note and he left in a great hurry.”
Matthew tilted his head to one side in confusion. “Did he say where he was going?”
Rob shook his head. “He just muttered something about some ‘business’ that wanted attending to and then he was gone.” Rob shook his head. “I am sorry, I am afraid that I did not pay him much attention. I was lost in my own thoughts.”
Matthew smiled gently and nodded, stepping closer to his friend and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “It is of no importance, Rob. I must admit that Forrest’s accident has thrown me off a bit as well.” They had started down the stairs when Matthew said, “Thank you for taking care of the guests for me.”
Rob smiled softly. “Oh, ‘twas nothing, Matthew.”
Matthew shook his head firmly. “Rubbish. Drink?” At Rob’s nod, Matthew led his friend to the library and poured them each a glass of port. Feeling slightly warmed by the wine, Matthew crossed to the window and stared down at the street, deep in thought. Forrest seemed to think that his accident had been no such thing. No matter how much Matthew wanted to believe that Deuce had simply chosen the wrong moment to misbehave in so grievous a fashion, he knew that the horse’s timid nature was not in keeping with such explosive behavior. He frowned and swallowed, trying to imagine why anyone would wish to harm Forrest. He could think of no one that would benefit from Forrest’s demise.
“You will explain why this has happened, Matthew Hargreve.”
Matthew turned around to see his mother standing in the doorway. He winged one brow at her in courteous inquiry. “Pardon me, mother, but what am I to explain?”
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “I wish to understand how something like this could happen. How are we to explain the most unconventional cancellation of this wedding to all of London?”
Matthew’s lip quirked in an irritated smile. “Surely you can understand that the wedding cannot go on as planned when the bridegroom is nearly killed in an accident, mother.” He stalked away from the window, downing the rest of the contents of his glass as he crossed the room. “As for what we will tell London, I think that the truth would the most obvious answer we could give them. Or do you not agree?”
She exhaled huffily. “I suppose that will have to do for now.” She tossed her head. “All that hard work and preparation for nothing. It is unconscionable.”
Matthew propped his elbow up on the mantle and regarded his mother as if from a very great distance. “Mother, must we argue about this?”
She looked a bit startled, not at his words, but at the finality in his tone. She stared at him for a long moment, then whirled about and left the room.
Rob sighed and slipped lower into the chair he had taken before the fire. He sipped at his port pensively, his long finger
s wrapped around the glass as if he were seeking warmth and comfort from it. “Matthew?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Forrest thinks that what happened was no accident, doesn’t he?”
Matthew exhaled noisily and nodded. He turned his eyes into the fire. “I have been wracking my brain for some reason that someone would want to hurt him, but I cannot come up with any satisfactory answer.”
“Neither can I,” Rob replied, his voice so quiet that Matthew had to strain to hear it. “Perhaps he was mistaken,” Rob said then, hope in his tone.
Matthew smiled wryly. “That had occurred to me as well, Rob. However, we both know that Forrest is nothing if not completely assured in every decision that he makes. He is nearly infallible in that regard. I find it very hard to ignore his surety about the situation.”
Rob nodded again. Finally he rose to his feet. “I think that I am going to go up to my room and change my clothes.”
Matthew nodded. “I will take the next turn as Forrest’s companion,” he told Rob. He watched the other man leave the room and felt a stirring of slight guilt as he noted lines of strain in the set of Rob’s shoulders. He should have helped with the guests, but he had not even thought about his duties as host until too late to render any help to Rob in that regard.
He pulled his pocket watch from his pocket to check the time, then moved away from the mantle and settled himself in the chair that Rob had vacated. He stared into the fire and tried not to contemplate what felt like some nameless disaster looming over them all.
Twenty-Seven
M
arcus rapped at the knocker impatiently, turning to glance over his shoulder at the street and his waiting carriage. He began to tap his foot impatiently, his eyes running over the slightly shabby townhouses to the left and right with distaste. He rapped the knocker again. It was in terribly poor taste to leave a guest standing on the stoop for this long. He raised his hand to knock again, when the door swung inward to reveal a very haughty butler in an outdated uniform.