As Athena Masterson engaged with her sister-in-law Kiri, Kendra glanced around the large studio and saw Lucas and Simon sparring intensely. With the practice Lucas had been getting, he’d improved, and now he and Simon each won almost equal numbers of bouts.
Kendra was ready to find another opponent when the door opened and three of the Rogers brothers entered. There was Godfrey, the crippled youngest brother with lines of pain etched in his face. Behind him was his oldest brother, Patrick, the cavalry officer who had fought Lucas the first time they’d met. They were accompanied by a middle brother whose name Kendra didn’t know, but who was clearly a Rogers.
Godfrey limped in on his crutches, then stopped, enraged at the sight of Lucas. “You again! Why does a disgraced man insist on engaging in what should be a pastime for honorable gentlemen?”
Kendra swore silently when she saw Lucas’s tight expression. A pity that Henry Angelo wasn’t here. He would shut this nonsense down before it spiraled out of control. But he was away this morning and his young assistant hadn’t enough natural authority.
She’d always sensed that Lucas wasn’t fully at peace with himself about the way he’d escaped the French prison. His head might believe he’d had no choice, but his spirit, which had been raised in the English gentleman’s code of honor, still carried a burden of guilt and self-hatred for breaking his parole.
As Godfrey opened his mouth for more insults, Kendra’s temper snapped and she stalked across the room to confront Godfrey, pointing her fencing foil at him. “Enough! Godfrey Rogers, I have a nine-year-old son who is more mature than you are. You aren’t allowed to have tantrums and spew insults at another man without explaining your grievance. A wound uncleansed turns lethal. It’s time to end this nonsense!”
Patrick Rogers took a furious step toward her. “I knew it was a mistake to allow women in here!” He cast a disapproving but fascinated glance over her black-pantalooned legs. “Don’t you dare threaten my brother!”
“I’m not threatening him. By clinging so tightly to his pain and anger, Godfrey has become his own worst enemy, and his protective big brothers aren’t helping!” Kendra retorted. “As I said, it’s time this feud was explained so there is a chance of ending it. Godfrey and Patrick, come into the back room. Lucas and Simon, come also. I will attend as the referee, because any woman who has raised children knows something about settling disputes without bloodshed. Now move!”
She pointed her sword at the back room, and after a stunned moment, Lucas strode toward it, his expression determined. Simon followed.
Godfrey was shaking on his crutches, close to falling. In a much softer voice, Kendra said, “Believe me, painful truths are better revealed than allowed to fester inside. What is said in that room will be forever private if that is what you wish. But you owe Lucas and your brothers the full story.”
Face white, Godfrey lurched toward the back room on his crutches. Patrick followed. The middle Rogers started to follow also, but she waved her blade in a blocking motion. “Unknown Rogers brother, you can stand guard outside to make sure no one tries to enter. Each of the principals has one second standing beside him, and I will ensure that the discussion stays on course.”
He gaped at her. “I’m William Rogers, and how can I be sure you’ll be neutral?”
She caught his gaze. “As a woman, I favor peace over bloodshed. As a mother, I know the necessity for fairness. Will you accept that?”
After a long moment, he nodded agreement and took up position in front of the door as Kendra followed the four men inside. Before the door closed she saw that Athena Masterson had come to stand beside William Rogers. No one would get past those two—and Kendra was grateful to have Athena at her back.
This spacious back room was where Henry Angelo gave private lessons, but it also held chairs and a desk and a long, narrow, padded table where injured fencers could lie down if they needed examination or treatment.
Godfrey folded into one of the chairs, with Patrick looming protectively beside him. Lucas and Simon stood side by side, their expressions calm and impenetrable.
Since none of the men seemed inclined to start the discussion, Kendra addressed herself to Godfrey. “I was present the first time you and Lord Foxton met here. You accused him of being responsible for your crippling injury. Foxton didn’t understand why you were accusing him, and you refused to explain, saying he should know what he’d done. Am I remembering correctly?”
His gaze on the floor, Godfrey nodded. Not a very articulate young fellow. He must have been barely out of the schoolroom when he became a midshipman.
Guided by intuition, Kendra said, “In my experience, I’ve found that if someone doesn’t want to discuss a fraught situation, it’s because they carry some guilt over their own part in it. Is that true in this case?”
Godfrey’s head jerked up. He licked dry lips before saying, “Yes. I hold Lucas Mandeville responsible for the accident that crippled me, but I . . . also behaved foolishly.”
“Please explain why you feel the way you do,” Lucas said quietly. “If there are amends I can make, give me the chance to make them.”
Godfrey drew a shaky breath. “We all looked up to you so much in Bitche. No matter how threatening the situation or how dire, you were always calm, strong, and willing to speak up for other prisoners. Fearing nothing. A true English gentleman. All of us younger officers admired you so much.” His mouth twisted. “Then when you were on parole in the town, you broke that parole and escaped! Hearing that news was . . . crushing. A betrayal of the principles of honor that we all valued. I almost didn’t believe it, but you were gone, abandoning the rest of us.”
“I can tell you more about why I escaped, but later,” Lucas said, his searching gaze on the other man. “Tell me how my actions led to your disabling accident.”
His brother Patrick was frowning down on him, but Godfrey continued to speak, his words halting. “Your betrayal made me question my own devotion to honor. I was furious. I wanted to be like you and escape to freedom, yet at the same time, I hated you for your dishonorable behavior. After stewing for a fortnight or two, on impulse I decided that if you could escape, so could I and be damned to the consequences.”
“You were injured in your escape attempt?” Kendra asked softly.
Godfrey’s gaze locked on Lucas. “You know how impregnable the Bitche fortress is. How steep the walls. How dangerous any escape attempt from the fortress would be.”
“But breaking out of the prison would not be breaking parole,” Lucas said. “Not like walking away from the town as I did.”
Godfrey nodded. “Your walking away from the town was easy, but dishonorable. If I broke out of the fortress, I would be free in an honorable way. I was on the verge of success when my makeshift rope broke, and I crashed to the ground. It felt as if I’d broken half the bones in my body.
“The French guards came to collect me and threw me into a cell with several other prisoners. No medical treatment was provided.” He drew a shuddering breath. “The pain was excruciating.”
“Yet you didn’t die,” Lucas said. “You must have great strength of will.”
“I wanted to die!” Godfrey said savagely. “But my fellow prisoners did everything they could to preserve my worthless life. They set my bones as well as they could, shared rations with me and offered words of comfort, telling me how brave I’d been to attempt the escape and how I would surely survive to go home. I hated myself for my failure and I hated you even more for being a . . . a false idol who had walked away from us laughing.” His mouth twisted. “Spoken aloud, my words don’t make much sense, do they?”
His brother rested a hand on Godfrey’s thin shoulder. “I understand your anger, but perhaps it shouldn’t be aimed at Foxton,” he said in a comforting voice. “Surely it would have been wiser to hate the French and be grateful to your fellow prisoners.”
Lucas shook his head. “Unending pain tends to warp one’s thinking. Particularly when a man you’
ve idolized seemed to have betrayed all you believed in and escaped without consequences. I don’t believe I deserve to be the target of your pain and anger, but I do understand why you felt that way.”
Godfrey looked away, not speaking. Lucas sharpened his voice. “Look at me, Godfrey Rogers, and I’ll tell the truth of my imprisonment, escape, and the consequences!”
The younger man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and raised his gaze to Lucas’s. When he had Godfrey’s attention, Lucas continued in a flat voice, “I didn’t realize that I was an inspiration to the younger officers because I was so often in pain myself and doing my best to hide it. The commander of the fort, Colonel Roux, loathed me for the same reasons you put me on a pedestal I didn’t deserve. Because he was an officer of peasant origin, he despised me for being a ‘damned aristo.’ In his eyes I was a rich, spoiled Englishman, unworthy of respect or honor. Roux wanted me to suffer. He was a master of inflicting pain that wouldn’t leave permanent marks. So . . . I suffered.”
Wincing, Kendra pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from expressing her horror at his words. From Simon’s expression, even he hadn’t been told the full truth of Lucas’s imprisonment. She sensed that Lucas was only speaking up now because of the need to resolve the murderous conflict between him and Godfrey.
Lucas continued, “Besides physical torture when he had time to amuse himself, Roux played cruel mental games, promising that soon I’d be sent back to England, then tellng me with obvious pleasure that the exchange had fallen through. It wasn’t long before I realized that he would never exchange me. Eventually he said so in as many words.”
“But the possibility of exchange is an essential part of giving and receiving a parole,” Godfrey said, frowning.
“Exactly so. I was trapped between knowing that the promise of parole wasn’t real, and my feeling that escaping would be dishonorable.” He fell silent for half a dozen heartbeats. “You and I had more in common than simple imprisonment, Godfrey. I, too, wished I was dead.”
“That’s why you decided to take your chances on escape?” Godfrey asked.
Lucas nodded. “Even if I escaped the town, I knew I’d be hunted down ferociously, but I did it anyhow, not caring whether I lived or died. I was indeed hunted ferociously and was seriously wounded. Luckily I can pass as a Frenchman, which saved my life several times over.
“When I’d run as far as I could and lay dying in Belgium, a Franciscan friar, Frère Emmanuel, was called in to treat me. Like you, I managed to survive, but I was so shamed by breaking my parole that I refused to go home, refused to let the people who loved me know I was alive.” He glanced at Simon. “We were raised as brothers, yet I couldn’t bring myself to face Simon or my aunt and uncle. I became Frère Emmanuel’s servant and companion in a bid for atonement.”
Godfrey stared at him. “What persuaded you to come home?”
“Simon hunted me down.” Lucas and his almost-brother exchanged a swift, intimate, very brotherly smile.
Lucas continued, “Then when he found me, his wife, the exquisite and practical Suzanne, told me not to wallow!” His gaze moved to Kendra. “The women in my life have pointed out that there are rules to parole and the commandant violated them when he said he’d see me dead before he would free me. There was no true bond of honor between us to be broken. Nonetheless, to this day I feel that I am unworthy to be called a gentleman.”
Simon winced at that, but didn’t speak. There was a long silence before Godfrey said huskily, “I have misjudged you and brought the wrath of my brothers down on you. For that I am sorry. I have no right to ask your forgiveness.”
“Nor any need. We were both caught and broken in the hell of war,” Lucas said with compassion. “But if you feel that you’ve done me an unjust injury, there is something you can do to balance the scales between us.”
“I will tell my family and friends that I wronged you,” Godfrey said heavily. “Is that what you want?”
“That would be appreciated, but my request is different. Frère Emmanuel, the friar I traveled with, came from a long line of highly skilled bonesetters and he taught me everything he knew. From the first time I saw you, I’ve felt that you might be helped by the skills I’ve learned. Will you allow me to examine and treat you?”
CHAPTER 31
Godfrey stared at Lucas, appalled. “You want to push my bones around?”
“That’s an oversimplification, but yes,” Lucas said, holding the younger man’s gaze. “When bones are displaced, they can pinch nerves and cause excruciating pain. The whole body reacts, trying to reduce the pain, and still more misplacements occur. I can’t promise that I will return you to what you were before your injury, but I feel reasonably sure I can help you at least a little.”
Thinking that she should offer an endorsement, Kendra said, “I saw Lucas perform a miracle. Wouldn’t it be worth a try to see what he might be able to do?”
Simon also spoke up. “I was the lucky beneficiary of one of Lucas’s miracles. I would have died after Waterloo if not for him.”
Godfrey looked from Kendra to Simon before saying with obvious reluctance, “It would be worth trying someday.”
“Do it now, not someday,” Kendra said firmly. “There’s a good treatment table right here, and your brother will be standing by to make sure Lucas doesn’t do anything you can’t bear.”
When Godfrey still hesitated, Patrick said fiercely, “Dammit, Godfrey, if there’s a chance he can reduce your pain, for God’s sake, let him try! I hate seeing my little brother in constant agony! All of us do. Once I was thrown from my horse in battle and was in the most shattering pain. I hoped they’d shoot me as well as my horse. I couldn’t walk, could barely breathe. Then my sergeant found a local bonesetter, who was summoned and fixed me up better than I would have thought possible.”
Lucas looked as if he would like to ask what Patrick’s injury had been, but he refrained.
“Very well.” Godfrey collected his crutches and lurched to his feet with his brother’s help. Then he limped across the room to the treatment table. “Do you want me up or down?” he asked in a brittle tone.
“Take off your coat and boots, then lie facedown, please,” Lucas said.
Silently Patrick helped Godfrey out of his coat and helped him to a sitting position on the edge of the table. After tugging off the boots, Patrick eased his brother onto the table, then onto his stomach. There were several painful gasps that everyone pretended not to hear.
Patrick stepped back from the table and glowered threateningly at Lucas. “You’d better not make him worse, Foxton!”
“I will do my best to improve his condition.” Lucas had removed his own coat and rolled his sleeves up as he studied the thin body lying in front of him.
In deference to Godfrey’s male sensitivity, Kendra withdrew to the door so that she was as far away as she could get without leaving the room. But she could see Lucas drawing into himself to that remote place of prayer and healing.
Voice calm and soothing, Lucas said, “I’ll start by examining you, which means feeling the joints and bones to discover whether there are anomalies that can be readily fixed. This will probably be uncomfortable, but it’s necessary.”
“Go ahead,” Godfrey muttered. “I’ve been mauled about by any number of other medical monsters”
“Were you ever treated by a trained, experienced bonesetter?” Lucas asked as his strong hands began carefully evaluating Godfrey’s bones.
“Bunch of quacks!” Godfrey snarled. “Not real doctors.”
“Not always,” his brother said tersely. “Give Foxton a chance.”
Several minutes passed in silence as Lucas performed his evaluation. As he worked, he gave a running commentary on places he’d traveled, injuries he’d healed.
When he finished the evaluation, he ran his knuckles across Godfrey’s back between each pair of ribs. Godfrey jerked and gave a sharp cry before slowly relaxing. In a disbelieving voice, he said, “There�
��s less pain! Is that your treatment?”
“This is just a beginning,” Lucas said. “The worst of the pains originate in your spine and they affect your hips and knees and from there, your whole body. The force of your fall broke and misaligned the bones, and it will take strong pressure to put them into place. There will be pains, but they shouldn’t last long.”
Godfrey drew a shuddering breath. “Do your damnedest!”
From across the room, Kendra couldn’t see exactly what Lucas was doing, but she sensed that he was pouring all his healing energy into his hands and then into Godfrey’s body. Simon had moved beside him and laid what looked like a companionable hand on Lucas’s shoulder, but Kendra guessed that he was adding whatever aid he could to supplement Lucas’s efforts.
The next interval of time seemed interminable. Lucas worked steadily, but Kendra bit her lip at the occasional strangled sounds from Godfrey. Worse were faint, indescribable sounds that must have been a result of bones being manipulated. Patrick winced every time but made no attempt to interfere with Lucas’s treatment.
Finally Lucas rested his hands on Godfrey’s upper back, his head bent as if he was utterly exhausted. “I’ve done what I can for now,” he said wearily as he straightened. “We’ll see how well this holds.”
Godfrey tried moving a little, then more. Tears were running down his face when he pushed himself up with his arms. “Almost all the pain is gone,” he croaked. “How is that even possible?”
“Realignment of the bones has reduced the terrible pressures on inflamed nerves,” Lucas said as he stepped away from the table. “But you’ll feel sore and very weak for some time.”
Eyes wide with wonder, Godfrey swung his legs over the edge of the table, and promptly crumpled like a limp suit of clothes. Swearing, Patrick caught him before he ended up on the floor. “What the devil is wrong now, Foxton?”
“Your brother’s muscles have atrophied because of being used so little and so badly,” Lucas explained. “It will take time to rebuild them. Godfrey, you need gentle exercise and daily hot water baths to ease the soreness. You’ll be impatient about your progress, but eventually you should regain much of your strength and balance.”
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