Startled by the soft pulse tapping against his fingertips, Daniel gasped. “Silver?” When she made no response, he tried again only louder. She didn’t wake. “Oh, God,” he whispered and began looking for injuries. When he found no wounds or broken bones, he decided she must have succumbed to fatigue—praying it was nothing more than that—then gathered her in his arms and rose to his feet.
He whistled to Garrett along the way to the coach. Molly threw open the door and ran to them. She took one look at Silver and broke out into hysterical sobbing.
“Damnit, woman, cease the blubbering and go ready some blankets or something to cover her,” he ordered, unable to keep the sternness from his voice.
Garrett held open the door to the coach, and Daniel placed Silver carefully on the seat. He began to peel away her heavy, sodden clothes.
Molly found a tattered old blanket that smelled of horse and God knows what else beneath the opposite seat. He didn’t care. It was warm and dry.
“Help me with this,” he said, ripping away the tiny buttons at the back of Silver’s dress.
Together, they stripped his wife down to her chemise. When he found the red scar that ran diagonally across the top of her right arm, his chest twisted sharply. His eyes burned and he found it difficult to breathe. God, what a fool he’d been. He wrapped Silver in the smelly old blanket and held her to his chest as the teary maid settled into the opposite seat.
He closed his eyes as he heard Garrett hitch Fiona and Eros to the back of the coach then scramble up to the driver’s seat. The coach juddered forward, and he tightened his hold on Silver, praying she would be all right.
Daniel tried to rouse her during the long, slow journey back to the estate, but she continued to slumber deeply within his arms. He could scarcely keep his eyes from her pale face, his guilt soaring with every shallow breath she took. He needed to see her safe and well, else he didn’t know how he would ever live with himself.
When the coach finally rattled to a halt before Huntington, most of the servants were outside waiting for them, holding lanterns and wearing grim faces. They stood in a line and watched silently as Daniel lifted Silver out of the carriage. Thank God the rain had stopped.
“Summon the doctor,” he told Larkin and stepped inside the mansion. “And I need lots of hot water,” he called over his shoulder as he began mounting the stairs.
“Good heavens, is that Silver?” his grandmother asked from the top of the steps.
“Yes,” Daniel said, not at all surprised to find his grandmother standing there. She, Prudence, and Victoria must have left London not long after he had.
He hurried down the hall toward his bedchamber. Never again would he allow his wife to sleep elsewhere, and he damn sure would not send her to Clifton Castle. Silver would remain at his side always, he vowed as he sat on a chair near the blazing fire and settled her across his lap to await the hot water. With gentle fingers, he removed a damp curl from her cheek. His eyes stung. He prayed he could convince her to forgive him.
Grandmother, Prudence and Victoria rushed through the door. He noticed their worried frowns and anxious eyes, and his sister could not stop dabbing tears from her cheeks. They fired questions at the same time.
Daniel sighed. “Enough.”
The room fell silent except for the fire crackling in the grate and a fresh round of rain pelting against the glass panes. “I found Silver lying in a pile of leaves near the road to Goose Head Inn. I don’t think she’s injured. She must have collapsed from fatigue.”
Prudence lowered the handkerchief from her face and stepped forward. “Why was she out in this horrid weather?”
He glanced down at Silver’s ashen face and shook his head. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”
Thankfully, the arrival of the hot water interrupted further interrogation. And as soon as the tub had been set up before the hearth, Daniel commanded everyone to leave. No one dared to argue.
Tears burned his eyes as he lowered his wife down into the warm water. He wiped the wetness away and remembered another time he’d been this close to her in a tub. His mind relived the awful things he’d said and done to Silver, over and over, leaving him breathless in shame and guilt. He couldn’t stop his tears, so he just let them fall freely down his face as he bathed his wife.
When her skin had warmed, Daniel lifted her out of the tub and brought her to their bed. He wrapped her in warm, soft blankets, then stepped back to watch her for several minutes. He prayed she would wake soon, yet he dreaded it as well. For the first time, he considered her reaction, and that worried him.
Feeling a damp chill settling into his skin, Daniel shrugged out of his soggy clothes and padded to the fresh suit Mills had the good sense to set out for him. He moved quickly, not wanting to be too far from Silver in case she woke. Once dressed, he approached her, his heart pounding with dread. He could still lose her. Pulling at his badly folded cravat, he leaned over and placed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. Fear jolted through him. She grew hot.
Using a square of linen and some cool water from the nearby washbowl, he bathed her face with hands that shook and prayed the fever wouldn’t last. Then he went still, his chin falling to his chest. He also prayed she’d forgive him.
God, how could he have treated her in such a cruel way? Silver was good and faithful, kind and loving. He closed his stinging eyes and clenched his jaw until it ached. Silver was not his mother. Yet, too blinded by his painful past, he had condemned his wife for the sins of that woman.
And now he was terrified of losing her before he even had the chance to ask her to forgive him.
Someone knocked on the door.
Dashing away the wetness from his eyes with the backs of his hands, he swiveled around and called to enter. Garrett and Molly walked into the room.
“How is she?” his friend asked softly.
Daniel turned back to his slumbering wife, noticing the first stains of pink on her cheeks. “She has a fever,” he answered, his voice rough.
Molly walked to his side, her eyes red and puffy. “May I, Your Grace?” She nodded to the linen in his hand.
Although he didn’t wish to leave Silver’s side, he handed the cloth to the maid. He needed some answers and would only get them from Garrett. He walked to one of the chairs by the fireplace, offering his friend the other. “What happened?” he asked, leaning forward to catch every word.
Garrett turned from examining the dancing flames. “Silver hired a coach to take her to Scotland. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen. My only alternative was to go with her.”
Guilt seared Daniel’s insides. He pushed the painful emotion back and glanced toward his wife as he asked another question. “Why did she venture so far into the woods? Did she become frightened of the storm?”
“Partially, I think.” Garrett raked a hand through his hair. “The coach stopped just before the storm hit. Silver scrambled out and ran into the woods. Of course I followed.” His gaze skidded away. “She was ill.”
“Ill?”
“Heaving up the contents of her stomach,” his friend elaborated.
A tremor of fear went through Daniel. He glanced back to the bed. “Why? Was it something she ate?”
Garrett shook his head. “I’m not certain. As I was asking her, I heard Molly scream.” His hands fisted, and a dark look crossed his face as he continued. “Rushing back, I found one of the hired drivers trying to remove her from the coach. They were after Silver’s chest, thinking her books were jewels.”
Daniel sucked in a breath. “What happened to them? Did they go after Silver?”
“No.” His friend rubbed his bruised right hand. “I soundly trounced the two of them until they ran toward the inn, not the woods.”
He settled back into his seat and inhaled deeply. “Then what happened?”
“It started to rain just as I checked to be sure Molly hadn’t been harmed. Then I rushed back to the location I left Silver.”
Garrett’s voice grew soft. “That’s when I found her gone.” He shook his head and glanced up, guilt filling his eyes. “I told her to run if I didn’t come back right away, Daniel. I told her to.”
The ormolu clock chimed twice as Daniel placed another log on the fire. Just as he straightened, he heard a faint moan. Swiveling around, he rushed to the bed.
Silver turned her head, mumbling something incoherent, but her eyes remained shut.
“My darling, can you hear me?” He sat on the edge of the bed. His finger brushed back a curl that had fallen against her fevered forehead.
“Don’t,” she said, although her eyes were still closed, “don’t touch me.”
Daniel froze.
“You hurt me.”
His heart stopped momentarily, then began again in low, painful thuds. “I know. I’m so sorry, my love,” he whispered, closing his prickly eyes. When he realized what he had said, he glanced again at his wife’s slumbering form and swallowed. “How could I have believed those horrible things about you? How could I have been such a fool? I should have known better.” He brought her hot, limp hand up to his lips for a lingering kiss. “I love you, Silver,” he whispered as a teardrop coursed down his cheek. “I love you so damn much.”
With a sniff, Daniel used his free hand to wipe the wetness from his face.
“Are you an angel?”
He lowered his arm. Silver stared up at him with fever-bright eyes. “What?” he asked, stunned to see her awake and talking.
“Are you an angel here to take me to my parents?”
Inhaling a shaky breath, he shook his head. The fever must be making her delirious. “Do you want to go to them?” he asked, terrified of the answer.
She furrowed her brow, as if considering his question. Then she feebly shook her head back and forth. “No, not yet.”
He sagged with relief. Oh, thank God! “Do you still love your husband?” he asked before he thought better of it, then held his breath. It was a rotten thing to do, but he had to know her feelings. He had to know if there was any chance she would forgive him.
When she closed her eyes without responding, Daniel chided himself. He should not have asked her such a painful question. What if he caused her further harm? What if it made her give up her will to live?
Calling himself a fool, he dabbed her face with the damp cloth and watched her eyes flutter open. For the first time since he’d known her, tears formed in her eyes, and his soaring guilt stole his voice.
“Daniel wants me gone. He is convinced I’ve been unfaithful,” she whispered, the tears spilling over, racing down the sides of her face like twin rivers. “But I haven’t.” She squeezed his hand. “I swear I haven’t. You must believe me.”
“I believe you.” He swallowed back his own tears. “Now don’t cry.” God, could he feel any worse? He deserved it, he knew, but the stabbing pain in his heart hurt more than getting trampled by Duncan’s horse. Much more.
“Please.” Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. “Please tell him I haven’t been unfaithful.”
Daniel nodded. “Of course I will,” he stated thickly, his throat too clogged with emotion to speak normally.
“And tell him not to be angry with Aunt Prudence for summoning him to my room in Scotland,” she said. “I didn’t know she was planning such a thing. I only learned of it after our arrival at Huntington, and by then it was too late. Daniel and I were already married.” Another round of droplets spilled from her eyes. “But he thinks I’ve trapped him.”
He stared into her fever-flushed face and saw the truth in her words. The conversation he’d overheard must have been when Silver learned of Prudence’s scheme. He inhaled a shaky breath. Every time he thought the worst of his wife, he had been wrong.
She spoke again, drawing his attention. “And tell him that I love him. I will always love him.” She closed her eyes, her shoulders trembling. “The stubborn man won’t listen, but tell him anyway. Oh…God…he won’t…won’t want…to hear…that.” Her words became jerky, nearly incoherent between her sobs. “He…he doesn’t…w-want…me…as his…his wife. He…never…has. And…now…he wants…me…gone.”
Daniel gritted his teeth against releasing his own bitter tears. Silver needed him right now. Wiping the wetness from his eyes with his sleeve, he settled in the bed beside her. Leaning against the headboard, he pulled her into his arms, right up against his breaking heart. “That isn’t true, love,” he replied, wrapping the covers around her shaking body. “Your husband loves you very much and would die without you.” He didn’t think she could hear his words. She cried so hard. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs that tore him up inside.
Never before had he seen Silver cry. She hadn’t shed a single tear because of his grandmother’s deplorable behavior upon her arrival at Huntington, nor after the incident at the asylum. Silver hadn’t even cried when he’d treated her so horribly the night of her debut. But she cried now. He pressed a kiss to her hot temple. She cried now because she couldn’t bear the thought of him not loving her.
Daniel closed his eyes, regret searing his very soul. How would he ever make things right? One thing gave him hope, though. His arms tightened around her, the faint scent of roses rising up to him. She still loved him.
When Silver finally quieted, he fished the cloth out of the bowl and squeezed the water out with his free hand. “Perhaps I should do away with that foolish husband of yours,” he said, thinking she had fallen asleep, and started to clean the salty streaks from her fever-stained cheeks.
“Oh, please don’t do that,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering open briefly. “Our baby might need his father one day.”
The cloth tumbled from his hand. “What?”
“But you mustn’t tell him,” she said, her words thick with sleep. “I need to find somewhere for Prudence to live before he learns I am with child and divorces me.”
Several minutes passed before Daniel could think straight, his thoughts and emotions whirling with shock, guilt, shame, and regret. They were going to have a baby?
Hearing her breathing go deep and even, he felt her relax against him. Lifting a trembling hand, he slid it down over her stomach. Her skin felt even hotter than before, and he swallowed, trying not to panic. Moving his hand in a small circle, he noticed the slight lump.
Daniel groaned. “Oh, Silver.” He closed his stinging eyes and tightened his arms around his wife. “What have I done?”
Chapter Twenty-four
Daniel scowled at the closed mahogany door momentarily before resuming his pacing. He ploughed his hand though his hair for the thousandth time since the doctor arrived. The bloody man had been in there too long. His heart skidded to a halt, and he turned again to stare at the door. What if something was wrong?
He had just taken a step forward when the door swung open, and the doctor stepped out. With his heart beating in his throat, he stormed to the middle-aged man. “How is she, Dr. Benson?”
The doctor nodded his graying head. “Resting as comfortably as possible, Your Grace. The fever is down, which is a good indication Her Grace is on the mend.”
His heart started to settle back into place. “And the babe?”
Dr. Benson smiled and placed a reassuring hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “All is well with the babe, Your Grace.”
He closed his eyes, taking his first deep breath of the day. “Can I see her now?”
“Of course.” The doctor stepped from the doorway. “I will return in a few hours to check on things.”
Apprehension swelled within Daniel as he ambled into the room and closed the door behind him. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he edged forward. Bright morning light streamed in from the windows, and dust motes danced up and down the sunbeams. His steps slowed as he approached his wife, trying like hell not to be so nervous. Silver’s wavy red hair spilled over the white pillow, though some of the ruby ringlets remained plastered against her damp, wan face. Thankfully, the two patches of red on her sunken cheeks had
faded a bit.
Just as he stopped beside the bed, her eyes fluttered open. Would she recognize him this morning? Every time she woke last night, she believed him an angel. He bit the inside of his lip. Dear Christ, she told him so many things. She talked of her mother’s death and of her life at Pennington Manor, and he marveled her feisty spirit hadn’t been broken. He also wanted to go to Kelmscott and rip those inconsiderate people—her so-called family—limb from ruddy limb.
Then Silver had spoken of him, her every word finding a mark in his tattered heart. Yet throughout the night, Daniel’s resolve to win back his wife’s affection hardened like stone. He would not fail, or he would die trying.
Her eyes appeared red-rimmed and glassy. Perhaps the fever still had a good grip on her. Then her eyes focused on him, her gaze sharpening.
“Hello, Silver.” His smile wouldn’t hold. With his heart hammering and his insides twisted with apprehension, he sat on the chair next to the bed and awaited her reaction.
She opened her mouth, but before she said anything, the door flew open and Connor stormed into the room looking ready to do murder.
“Goud God, lassie, wha’ has happened tae ye now?”
“Connor,” she said, her voice gravelly and weak.
Daniel rose and faced the large Scot. “Silver has been ill with a fever.” He prayed the man would see that she was on the mend then leave quickly. There were so many things to sort out with his wife.
Instead, Connor frowned. “Was it her wound? Did it fester?”
Guilt knifed through Daniel, and he concentrated on keeping his voice even and his hands from shaking. “No, it wasn’t from that. The fever came on from being caught out in the rain,” he said, his stomach clenching on how that sounded, as though he wasn’t the real reason Silver was so ill. Well hell, he truly did not feel up to a sound thrashing from the large Scot at the moment. No matter how much he bloody well deserved it.
Duchess Beware (Secrets & Scandals Book 2) Page 25