Silence grew around them both. The breeze stilled, birds quietened, and the rest of the world seemed far away. There was only Jack and Cecily, Cecily and Jack.
Something strange then happened. Cecily felt as though she were spinning, or as though the world were spinning and she along with it. The feeling came from inside her chest, spiralling out so that it encompassed everything—the field, the horse, the trees, the sky. Everything in her life until now had brought Cecily to this man, and this moment.
‘Jack!’ she pleaded. ‘Please, do not die.’ The thought ripped her heart, it seemed, wide open, and freed the words that had been unspoken within her, the words she had been avoiding admitting to not ten minutes ago. ‘Jack, I love you. Please, do not die.’
* * *
Jack groaned, pain lancing into through him and reaching, it seemed, every part of his body. His head was afire with agony, his left arm and shoulder sending him dagger-like pains. Someone was with him, he knew. There were vague memories of a voice, bidding him not to die.
Am I dead, then?
But, no, the pain was too great.
The horse stumbled.
He moved his hands a little, moaning as his left arm, shoulder and neck sent needles of torment through him.
At the same time, he realised someone was holding his right hand.
Who?
All his thoughts took only an instant, and he opened his eyes to discover where he was and who was with him. He opened them—to blackness.
Is it night? No, I am returning from the ride.
Desperately, he closed his eyes tightly and opened them again. Still blackness.
‘I cannot see!’ The howling cry erupted from him. ‘I am blind!’ Terror rushed through him. Never had he felt so helpless, so frightened. Instinctively, he gripped the hand that was holding his, and heard a gasp.
‘Hush, my lord.’ Cecily’s voice was calm and soothing, but how could he be soothed when he could not see?
‘Cecily? Why can I not see?’
‘You have had a bump to the head, Jack. The effect is probably momentary only. Just be still, if you can. Your brother has gone for assistance.’
Tom!
‘I am a damned fool! What was I thinking, galloping so fast?’
‘My thoughts exactly, my lord.’ Her tone was wry. ‘Still, it seems you have managed not to kill yourself, so for that we should be grateful, I am sure.’ There was a strange tone to her voice, and was her hand shaking? He concentrated on that for a moment and confirmed that, yes, she was trembling.
‘I apologise for distressing you. I would not have wished to do so, not for the world.’ He swallowed. ‘This must have been quite a shock.’
‘Indeed, my lord, but we shall see you well again, I am certain.’
Panic still lurked behind his eyes. He tried opening them again. Still darkness.
‘My horse?’
‘Is uninjured and running wild at the bottom of the field. They will send a groom to fetch him.’
‘Good.’ His voice was gruff. ‘My foolishness has not harmed him, then.’
‘I see your brother is returning, with two grooms and Mr Harting.’ Her voice sounded different, and he guessed she was looking up, away from him. ‘They have brought a board to carry you on.’
Shame now added an extra layer of discomfort—on top of pain, fear, regret and anxiety. He groaned. ‘All of this because of my hot-headed foolishness! My injuries are fully deserved.’
‘Nonsense!’ Her tone was brisk, and he could tell she was looking at him again. ‘No-one deserves to be injured so!’
Oh, but I do. You have no idea how worthless I am. How headstrong, how selfish, how obstinate.
‘Jack!’ Tom sounded breathless.
Instantly, Jack opened his eyes, then squeezed them shut again against the terrifying darkness. ‘Tom! I am sorry for the trouble I am bringing you this day. I am being well punished for my foolishness.’
‘Nonsense!’ Tom’s tone was surprisingly similar to Lady Cecily’s a moment before. ‘Though it would have served you well had you broken your neck!’
‘True.’
Have I broken my neck? Or my back?
His arms seemed functional—although there was definitely some injury to the left one, for it was agonisingly painful. Tentatively, Jack moved his legs a little. They responded, to his great relief. There was a silence, and Jack sensed there was some communication going on from which he was excluded. ‘What is happening?’
‘They are setting the board down beside you and will shortly slide you onto it.’ Cecily’s voice soothed him a little. She had maintained her grip on his hand, for which he was profoundly grateful.
The next few moments were agonising. Strong hands reached under him and, on an agreed word, moved him from where he lay onto the smoothness of a wooden board.
An old door, he suspected.
He could not help but cry out, and when they began to walk with him, the pain jarred at every step they took. Abruptly, sounds and senses faded to black, and he knew no more.
Chapter Twenty-Six
‘His unconsciousness has returned.’ Tom’s tone was terse.
‘I am glad of it,’ Cecily replied, in an attempt to soothe him. ‘He would be better staying so until we can get him to his bed.’
She had managed to mouth to him news of Jack’s affliction, and his jaw had loosened in shock. ‘Is he truly blind?’ he asked now.
‘He could not see at all just now. That does not mean he is truly blind. His eyesight may return...’ She paused. ‘I hope.’ Fear for him threatened to overcome her, but she pushed it away with determination. ‘Has a doctor been sent for?’
‘Yes. There is a surgeon who lives on the road to Edenbridge, so hopefully he can be with us within the hour, unless he is from home.’ They paused, having reached the gate, and navigated their way carefully through the gap, their precious burden still oblivious. Cecily held her breath until they had him safely through the narrow space. He had not moved again.
A few moments later, after a precarious journey up the Hazledene staircase, they reached the Blue Chamber. Nell was there to greet them, and she was, to Cecily’s great relief, much calmer. Between them, she and the housekeeper had stripped and remade Cecily’s bed, ready for the Earl. A fire had been lit in the grate—a welcome sight for Cecily, who was shivering with cold after her prolonged time kneeling in damp grass. How much colder must Jack be?
Thankfully, his valet appeared almost immediately, and Tom and the ladies were ushered out while the valet and one of the footmen attempted to make the Earl more comfortable. Nell took the opportunity to hug her husband, who clung to her like a child, while Cecily sank onto a satin settee in the gallery and tried to make sense of it all.
He was badly hurt, she knew, although the fact that his oblivion had not lasted too long the first time was encouraging. His current unconsciousness was undoubtedly related to pain from the necessary journey from the field to the house.
The blindness, though, was a terrible development. How would a proud, independent soul like the Earl manage if such a change were to be permanent? She shuddered. It did not bear thinking about. In addition, the bang to the head could ultimately prove fatal, and they all knew it.
The other injuries were less urgent. A dislocated shoulder could be reset—hopefully by someone with the right skills. ‘Is the surgeon skilled in bone-setting?’ The words were out before she had considered them. It would have been better to wait, to give Tom and Nell some more time.
Tom disentangled himself from his Nell—at least enough to turn his head to speak to Cecily. ‘Yes, he is well known in these parts as a gifted bone-setter, I am told.’
‘Thank goodness.’
Silence descended again. This time, Cecily’s thoughts went in a different direction. Closing her eyes, she gave he
rself over to the knowledge that she loved him. She loved Jack Beresford, Earl of Hawkenden.
It was not even a surprise to her, for her heart had known it for a long time. They had begun badly, of course, with her prejudice about him being cold and empty, and their clash on Lady Jersey’s terrace. She shook her head gently. That might have been a hundred years ago, it was so far removed from the man she now knew. Oh, he was difficult, and complex, and broken, and he felt things very deeply. But he was also kind, and caring, and loyal, and when he looked at her in a certain way it deliciously disturbed every part of her.
Seeing him here, in Hazledene, had been the key to unlocking his mystery. Her hands moved to her reticule. Through its fabric her hand closed on the little carved knight. The boy Jack had been was at the heart of the man he now was.
Tom’s present distress was also strangely reassuring. It confirmed that he loved Jack as much as Jack loved him. If only Jack could recover, Cecily was confident that, between herself and Nell, they could heal the distance between the brothers.
The chamber door opened and the footman emerged, bidding them enter. They did so, Cecily following Tom and Nell, anxiety rising within her as she prepared to face the reality of his injuries again. The valet stepped forward, explaining that while he had managed to remove His Lordship’s boots and nether garments, he had not dared touch his jacket and shirt, for fear of exacerbating His Lordship’s injuries. His report made, he stepped away from the bedside and took up his place near the window.
On the bed, the Earl moved his hand and turned his head slightly. ‘Who is there?’
He is awake again!
Cecily’s heart skipped as Tom listed their three names, his voice cracking a little.
‘Tom.’ Jack lifted his right hand. Crossing swiftly to him, Tom took it.
‘I am so sorry, Jack. Such a fool I have been! I—’
‘It is I who have been the fool. My damnable temper, Tomkin.’
Tom leaned down, pressing his cheek against his brother’s. His shoulders shook. Reaching for each other, Nell and Cecily held hands and tried not to sob. Silent tears were rolling down Cecily’s face, and she knew Nell to be similarly affected. Near the window, the valet stared steadily ahead, although Cecily’s brief glance noted a muscle twitching in his tightly clenched jaw.
With a nod to Nell, Cecily indicated the armchair by the fireplace. They moved towards it together, Nell sitting facing the fire while Cecily stood, warming her hands in its welcome blaze. After a few moments she felt warm enough to untie and remove her cloak, which she set on the floor by the hearth.
‘Oh, Cecily, your gown is quite ruined!’ Nell’s expression was aghast. Cecily looked down. Sure enough, there were grass stains, blood, mud and even a slight tear along the hem. Cecily could not remember acquiring any of them but, then, her attention had been elsewhere. In the background, the brothers were talking quietly together, and Cecily was glad she and Nell were too far away to hear what was being said. They continued to converse about unimportant matters in order to give the brothers the time and the privacy they undoubtedly needed. Nell informed Cecily that her possessions had been removed to the nursery, and that Molly was even now preparing that room for her use.
‘You are so good, Cecily. Thank you for being so capable. I declare I did not know what I must do, down in the field.’ She shuddered. ‘I was overcome with fear that Tom...’ Her voice tailed away.
‘I understand.’ She did. For the first time Cecily genuinely understood why her hitherto sensible friend became so distressed at times. Loving someone meant you were open to new fears, new hurts, new weaknesses.
I am helpless now in a way I have never been before.
And that helplessness was already exposed by the worry that Jack might yet die or be permanently blinded.
I love him!
It still seemed miraculous that she finally understood what it meant to be in love.
Jack. I love you.
Cecily’s gown was quite dry and she was feeling much warmer when Tom finally called them over to Jack’s bedside. Cecily’s eyes ranged over his beloved face. Eyes closed, with surprisingly long lashes resting on his skin. Strong lines in his cheekbones. Aristocratic nose. Angled jaw. He was still pale, but not as grey-faced as he had been outside. Perhaps it was just the firelight, but she would take it as a hopeful sign. The bleeding from the head wound had slowed significantly and perhaps had even stopped, judging by the light stains on the towel that had been placed on his pillow.
‘Nell?’ He held out his good hand and Nell took it.
‘Yes.’
Eyes still closed, he turned towards Nell’s voice, wincing a little as he moved his head. ‘I wish to apologise to you for being so unwelcoming, Nell. As I have told Tom, I do understand that you and he share a true affection for each other, and I am glad you have brought him happiness.’
‘Thank you.’ Nell bent and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, brother.’
Cecily squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment, for fear her tears would again overflow.
‘And where is Lady Cecily?’
‘I am here.’ Nell gave way, and Cecily took his outstretched hand. How warm he was, and how strong and smooth his hand!
‘Thank you for staying with me, in the field. It helped.’ He swallowed, and she pressed his hand gently. He returned the pressure and they just stayed like that for a moment. Then, as if the silence bothered him, he added, ‘I am enormously embarrassed by my poor riding prowess, you understand.’
She heard the attempt at jocularity, understood both the gratitude and the genuine mortification behind it. ‘As you should be, my lord. I had thought you a better horseman than this. To take a tumble in an open field, without a hedge or a ditch in sight...tsk, tsk!’
He laughed a little, moving his head, then grimaced.
‘Now,’ she said briskly, ‘let me inspect the wound on your head again.’ She touched his face. ‘If you will permit, my lord?’
‘For you, I shall permit anything,’ he murmured, turning his head so she could see the large gash at the back of his head. Trying not to react to his words by giving them more meaning than he perhaps intended, she parted his dark, blood-matted hair, but it was difficult to see how extensive the wound was. Beckoning the valet across, she asked for a flagon of warm water and some clean towels, and a candle to see better by. The daylight was fast waning.
‘Yes, my lady.’ Within minutes she had all she needed, and set to work.
It took time, and more than once she heard sounds of protest, quickly stifled. She worked as gently as she could and needed four changes of water before she was satisfied. The wound was bleeding again slightly, but she was relieved to find it less extensive than she had feared. There had been a lot of grime in it, though, which she had tried her best to clean away. Tearing a thin towel into pieces, she folded one to create a pack to cover the wound. The surgeon could decide whether stitches were needed. Placing the pack gently over the wound, she touched Jack’s face again to bid him turn his head back. He sighed, and thanked her, and something in his tone made her smile.
‘It is clear to me that you have been cursing me under your breath all this time, my lord.’
‘You have come to know me too well, Lady Cecily.’ He opened his eyes briefly, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling above, then closed them again.
‘Not too well, surely? Well, certainly. I agree.’ He did not seem to be listening. He had opened his eyes again and was frowning. ‘What is it?’
‘I think I saw something. Yes, I can—there is something...light, I believe.’
Throwing a wide-eyed glance towards Nell and Tom, Cecily picked up the candlestick from the small table beside her. Rising, she leaned directly over him, candle in hand. Tom had already reached his other side, Nell following quickly.
‘Can you see this? I am holding a candle over y
ou.’ Leaning further forward, she looked directly into his eyes. At first there was no recognition, nothing, then—then their eyes locked, and he looked directly at her!
‘Cecily,’ he breathed. ‘I can see you.’ He frowned. ‘At least, I can see some of you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her voice shook. It felt as though she were witnessing a miracle.
‘It is the strangest thing. It is as though I am looking directly at the horizon but am permitted to see only the sky. The land below is denied me.’
Tom let out a whoop of delight. ‘But the blindness is leaving you—and so quickly! This is good news, Jack!’
They all agreed and discussed more with Jack the strange gap in his eyesight. He could see the top half of everything, but not the bottom half. He had seen Cecily’s face when she had leaned over him but had been unable to see her shoulders.
A sudden flurry of activity in the hallway outside heralded the arrival of the surgeon. He was a genial man in his middle years, who, following introductions, insisted upon washing his hands thoroughly before touching the Earl. ‘For I have noticed, my lord, that it seems to lead to fewer infections in my patients. Now, let me see. Well, as you have no doubt realised, this shoulder is dislocated.’ He turned to the valet. ‘My good man, can you fetch the box of splints and slings from my carriage, please?’ The valet, bowing, departed. ‘Now, what else? A head wound?’
‘He was blind for almost an hour,’ Tom stated, his flat tone belying the worry Jack’s blindness had caused them all.
‘And can you see perfectly again?’
‘No.’ Jack explained, and the doctor spent some time holding his fingers in different places, before declaring himself fascinated by the Earl’s unusual recovery.
‘But his blindness will go away fully, will it not?’ Tom asked anxiously.
‘It is certainly likely, given that this recovery is already far advanced, and so soon after the accident. Now, my lord, let me inspect your head wound.’ Jack turned his head, and Cecily, watching, winced for his sake. The movement would sting terribly.
Captivating the Cynical Earl Page 21