She is married, he reminded himself. Max’s gaze held her sleeping form a moment longer before he again noticed the angry red abrasions on her wrists. His body stiffened in anger. Mother is right. I need time to regroup my thoughts.
“Thank you, Mother.” He stopped just before leaving the room and turned back. “The dog…” He paused and looked at the white bundle of fur curled up next to Maggie. “I must allow Shep to stay here with her. Please make sure the doctor tries to accommodate. She keeps reaching for him. I fear that whatever has transpired, Shep may be Meg’s only witness and her biggest comfort.”
Chapter 2
Maggie bore the prodding and heard the voices. Her aching body felt heavy and cried out in pain. Someone was trying to unclothe her, and Shep was not having it.
“Grrrrrrr...” She could hear her tiny dog fending off whoever was in the room with her.
“Maggie. Can you hear me, my dear?” The gentle warmth of soft hands caressed her cheeks, and she smelled rosewater.
“I will help you, Gertie. Let us be careful.” The voice was familiar.
“We need to get your wet things off, milady.” A high-pitched young woman’s voice sounded above her. She did not recognize it.
“Grrrrrrr…”
“Yes, we do, but let us wait. The doctor has not yet arrived. Give her dog a bit more time to calm down. My son is most determined the dog stays with Maggie…er…Lady Tipton.”
Maggie could hear everything around her, and as much as she wanted to say something, she could not. Her head hurt so much, especially trying to think. But she could not help it. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was being in the rain with Shep and seeing a dark rider coming toward her from the darkness. There was no more strength to move. She saw his face and she recalled that she had known him; now she needed to feel comforted by his voice once again. Strange. She wracked her mind and could not grasp her last thought—his identity.
Her thoughts jumbled at a woman’s words.
“Milady, the doctor has arrived.”
“Please send for Lord Worsley.”
That voice…I know it.
“Yes, milady.”
Lord Worsley? Max? Max is here? I have to be dreaming. Maggie struggled to open her eyes and only felt them flutter under the weight of her lids. No matter how she tried, fatigue overwhelmed her efforts. She moved her hand, reaching until she felt Shep’s warm body next to her. He licked her hand.
Where am I? Thinking hurts. Hushed voices filled the surrounding room. She tried to listen, but the fatigue overcame her until she recognized a velvety male voice. Max…
Was she at Lord Worsley’s house? If that were true, she and Shep were safe. She could breathe, but for how long?
Maggie was not sure anyone could help her now. She should have left home before Fergus returned. Now she would never have her life back. She thought about Lilly, and pain gripped her heart. She was no longer certain she cared.
Her dog’s kisses penetrated her thoughts. He was her responsibility. She cared about his life and hers. She would persist.
Heavy footsteps approached, then the mattress sank as someone sat next to her and picked up her hand. The scent of sandalwood told her it was Max. She breathed deeply, craving all that he offered. Her husband had only ever smelled like cheap perfume and cigars, a testament to what he spent his time doing. But Max always smelled like the outdoors and sandalwood. Maggie had thought she would never smell that again. As a large hand held hers, another moved a wet cloth over her brow.
“Meg…er…Lady Tipton?” A deep voice gained her attention.
Her head throbbed with the effort to see Max. She opened her eyes. He was just as handsome as he was the last time she had seen him.
Fergus had made sure she knew Max had looked for her, jeering with his tobacco-yellowed and misshaped teeth about how she would never see him again. Her husband had said she now belonged to him alone, and he kept her away from London, isolated in his country home. He never allowed her to leave without an escort. His toadies had watched every move she made and reported back to him about everyone she spoke with and what she did.
“The doctor has arrived,” Lady Worsley’s voice intruded.
“Grrrrr…” Shep gave a throaty reaction, forcing Maggie to speak.
“Shhhh. Easy, Shep…they mean no harm.” Maggie’s hoarse voice barely registered even to herself.
“Meg.” Max leaned down and looked into her eyes. “We need to step outside with Shep or the doctor cannot examine you.”
“Aye. I will not keep ye waiting a moment longer than necessary.” Another male voice, deeper than Max’s sounded from behind him.
Maggie’s eyes fluttered again. She forced them open them and looked around.
“Can you see us, Meg?” Max leaned over her and looked into her eyes. It was strange to see Shep letting anyone so near her.
She nodded. Shep nudged her. “I will be all right, boy.” Her voice was strained, and she whispered as loudly as she could. Maggie touched her dog’s face, and he scampered off the bed and stood next to Max. She had not been called Meg in three years. A faintly familiar feeling fluttered in her stomach.
“We will be just outside the door. Perth, let me know if you require anything.” Max turned to leave the room, carrying Shep in his arms.
“Aye. Thank ye, Lord Worsley.” The man’s voice had a Scottish burr. “Before you leave, could ye have some hot water and bandages brought to me?”
“Certainly. Gertie will return in a moment with what you need,” Max responded.
The door closed.
Maggie shuddered and tried to relax her head back into the pillow, closing her eyes and allowing the tension to leave her neck and shoulders. It was easier to lay still and close her eyes, to just go back to when he was here moments before. She wanted to see his face again.
Max was just as she remembered him. Tall with crystal blue eyes, an aristocratic nose, a strong squared chin, and a mass of thick brown wavy hair that still hung to his collar. He used to joke about how she was the perfect size for him. Lithe and a little taller than most women, Maggie loved to gaze at him when she did not think he saw her looking.
Her fingers ached to touch him again, but after what had transpired between them, she could not afford to do that. The last thing she wanted was to cause Max more heartache. As much as she wanted to be near him, she needed to leave.
“I am glad to see ye awake, milady. Everyone has been anxious about ye. I am Dr. Perth.”
Someone was speaking to her and it was not Max. Her eyelids quivered and opened. She looked around slowly, surveying the room. She had been here before. The room cheered her bruised body and heart. The bed had a cream lace canopy. Pink velvet curtains covered the two windows on the wall to the right of her, and the cheery pink and blue floral wallpaper lent a feeling of familiarity. She struggled to remember, scrunching her face with effort.
The doctor arched a brow and scrutinized her face. “Ye appear to have had a tough go at it. Can ye tell me what hurts?”
At the moment, everything hurt. Nerves. Her head hurt, her eyelids hurt, her stomach hurt—most likely from hunger—and her arms and legs felt like jelly. “To be truthful, Doctor…Perth, everything.” She touched a lump on her forehead.
“Aye. I see the cut. Did ye fall? Can you tell me what happened, milady?”
Maggie tried to recall. Shutting her eyes, her thoughts drifted back. She remembered being at her family home but keeping it dark. They had been alone there for days until the storm. She thought she heard a window noises downstairs and crept down the staircase, holding Shep close to her chest. On her way down, she had heard a loud noise like something dropped to the floor in her father’s library. She set Shep down and pointed to the door for Shep to stay and be still. He had always seemed to understand her. Peering around the corner of the doorway, she had spotted a tall man in a dark cape going through her father’s books, shaking them and tossing them to his desk. The waning moo
nlight from the window illuminated him, giving her the advantage of seeing him first. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed outside, startling Shep, and he barked. The man looked over and saw the two of them.
Her sudden appearance must have startled him, because he shoved the book he had been looking at into a satchel and rounded her father’s desk toward her. When he got close, Shep leaped at him, attacking and biting his leg. The man kicked her dog, trying to throw him off. When he withdrew a knife from his vest pocket, she grabbed her father’s brass-handled fire poker and hit him when his back was turned, knocking him down before grabbing her dog and running from the room.
She had stumbled while running away and hit her head. She had expected the stranger to catch her, but instead he ran toward the iron latticed gate. Shep was free and ran after him. He kicked at Shep when her dog got too close, but Shep refused to give up the chase. She cried out for her dog to come back, fearing he would be lost, killed, or both. Time had stood still until she saw a man on a horse coming from the dark end of the road, riding slowly toward her in the pouring rain.
“I was running and fell. I am not sure what I hit.”
“Hmmm…” He rubbed his hands over the still slightly rounded and tender flesh of her stomach. “Do ye recall anything else?” The doctor gently probed as he checked her forehead, dabbing a towel in cold water.
“No. I saw a man on a horse riding toward me. I was wet and cold and could barely hold my head up when he came upon us. I do not remember how it happened, but I am here now.” Why did she not tell him about the man in her father’s library?
“Ye will need stitches on this cut. ’Tis pretty deep.” The doctor leaned over the bed to look at the cut. “I see no debris. ’Tis a good thing it’s by the hairline so the scar will be small.” He lightly touched the area around her wound, watching her reaction. She tried to hold to a wince. Taking out his stethoscope, he bent over her chest and used the wooden instrument to listen to her heart. “Take deep breaths in and out slowly. Mmm…strong beats, steady. Very good.” A moment later, the doctor laid down his stethoscope and picked up her hands, slowly turning them over. “Rope burns,” he murmured to himself as he perused her wounds. “’Tis as Lord Worsley described.” His expression turned more serious. “Seems a bit strange that the cut on your head would make ye cry out in pain in your sleep, though. I would like to check your ribs and your stomach. I will ask Lady Worsley to return to the room to assist if ye have no objection.”
Every inch of her body throbbed in pain. She wanted to object to everything, but she nodded and said nothing. Rope burns. She remembered freeing herself and running. Falling repeatedly and running, trying to escape and fearing for her life, but not from the stranger in the library. It had been her husband who had bound her arms.
“I do not recall more…” She stopped, afraid to trust this man—because he was a man. “I cannot say this was not a bad dream, because my head feels like I am floating, but my husband…” Should she continue? She did not know this doctor, but she could trust Max. He was the only one she could trust with her parents gone. Yet she held no illusions he would feel anything other than disgust toward her. Still, she had to try. “Is Lord Worsley here?”
“His lordship is outside, waiting to hear of your condition.”
“Might I speak to him?” Hope toyed with her heart. While it hurt her just to talk, she wanted to talk to Max. If for nothing else, then to tell him she was sorry. She trusted him, even though he probably hated her. Would he ever trust her again?
“I will ask Lord Worsley to step inside for a moment, but I need to know more about what happened to you. Will you tell me?”
Could she tell him the truth? She took a chance and nodded slowly, and the doctor left to retrieve Max. Every movement hurt. Her head felt like it was about to erupt from her neck.
Max reentered the room. Her eyes were closed, but the scent of sandalwood and maleness brought his face to her mind and soothed her somehow. Max had moved on. She was certain of that—Fergus had told her he had. Her betrayal had left him no option, even though that choice had not been hers. But the thought of another woman in his arms tightened her chest. She had lived for three years in isolation, her only companion Shep. And there was the constant dread of her husband’s return home from his trips to London. She prayed he would never come back.
She felt her stomach. Instinct. It had been less than a month since she had suffered the loss of her baby girl, likely the result of the countless beatings she had endured. A tear ran down her face at the thought of her daughter, and she closed her eyes tightly, willing the image of her stillborn child from her mind. Lilly. Fergus Anders had been drunk as usual—too drunk to even care that they had lost the child. When she made him aware, his only comment was, “It was not a boy. We will try again.” She could not forget his hateful sneer when he added, “You owe me an heir.” At that moment, Maggie had hated him more than she thought possible and was determined to leave him at her first opportunity.
Her chance came a little more than a fortnight later. But as she had no safe place to go and felt sure she was being watched whenever she left home, she turned to the only place she could think of—her family’s boarded-up house.
Had it not been for the dark intruder, she and Shep might still be there. She had thought she recognized him—the way he stood and walked. The light had been too dim to make out any facial features. Maggie felt sure that Shep had also recognized the man, so much so that he took off after him in full-scale attack, prompting her to run after them to save her brave pup.
“My dog…” She glanced at the door.
“Aye, ye have a brave little rascal there.” Dr. Perth smiled at her and scratched behind Shep’s ears.
“He…he rarely allows anyone this close to me. Shep trusts you, Doctor. I know this is unusual, but could you check him and see if he is injured? He tried to help me…and I think they hurt him.”
The doctor peered at the dog and then smiled. “Aye. ‘Tis not my normal exam, but if the chap will let me, I will do my best. He does seem to be laboring a bit with his breathing.” He held out his hand to the animal, allowing Shep to come closer. Gingerly, he moved his hand to Shep’s abdomen and touched it. “What are you not telling me, lass?”
Chapter 3
Max was not unaffected by Meg’s nearness. She had no place to go and needed to stay here. But he did not have to stay. Mother would ensure she had the best of care. He needed to stop thinking about her, and especially thinking of her as Meg. She was Lady Tipton. He should leave for a day or two, long enough to distance himself from her. He would not go far. He just needed space to think. Perhaps two days at Harlow’s house. John Andrews, the Earl of Harlow, had been his best friend since Eton. They had served together against Napoleon’s forces in the Battle of Ligny, and now both worked for the Crown. Harlow would be good for him. There was no one better to lift his spirits, although truth be told, they lifted spirits together. The thought of relaxing with a brandy brought a smile to his lips.
He could not leave before he was sure Meg was healing. His need to know what had happened to her had consumed his thoughts, and he had been at her side every moment possible. Max considered the scene in front of him and closed his eyes a moment, willing to stay the bile that threatened. The woman he had loved with his whole being was lying on his sister’s bed, bearing deep gashes and scratches, dark bruises upon her chin and neck, and burns on her wrists. Rope burns. She had suffered, but she stayed quiet, reluctant to disclose the cause. He was afraid to draw conclusions on his own, afraid of the feelings they would stir deep within. It had taken all three years they were apart to think of something or someone other than her, and here she was in his home.
“It was Fergus.” Her voice barely audible, she turned from Dr. Perth and Max.
Her voice shook Max from his reverie.
“Lord Tipton did this? He bound a gentlewoman?” Dr. Perth’s voice was incredulous. The doctor studied her wrist and turned it
over, gently touching the raised areas. “These are deliberate injuries, lass.”
“Are you saying Lord Tipton did this to you?” Rage gripped him and he clenched his fists.
Max could not miss the stubborn set of her chin. After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly, keeping her face turned away from the two men.
Cold anger surged through his body. Max fought it down. If he had learned nothing else in service to the Crown, it was to get all the information before reacting. There were a lot of questions, and he gave a silent prayer that Maggie would cooperate. She could be stubborn, especially with him. He would let Perth ask the questions. He trusted Perth’s instincts and his uncanny ability to get information from people. He had served with Max under Wellington at Ligny, and he had grown to rely on him. Max trusted Perth’s medical expertise. There were none better.
Perth glanced at Max and nodded subtly. “Lady Tipton, is there anything else you can tell us? Ye mentioned to me earlier ye were afraid of a man ye had seen in your parents’ home. What can you tell us? Why were you there? Did you recognize the man?” He peppered the questions at her, but in a slow, easy manner, softened by his burr.
Wide-eyed, Maggie bobbed her head. “Nash Slade—he is my uncle’s man. I saw him meet with my uncle several times before he sent me…away.” Her voice was throaty. “I believe he was going through my father’s library.”
“What the devil was…?” Max stopped mid-sentence when Perth coughed. Restraining himself was going to only get harder.
“Did you see what he was doing?” The doctor’s inquiry was calm and temperate.
“Pulling books from my father’s library shelves. He’d open them up and toss them.” Her eyes rimmed with tears. “Please don’t let that man find me,” she pleaded in Max’s direction.
The Earl She Left Behind (The Noble Hearts Series; Common Elements #1) Page 2