Peters barked out a laugh and turned to face Gideon. He leaned against the window frame and crossed his legs casually, though Gideon knew it for a lie. “You all were. I played God, Gideon. I made the decision who would live and who would die. And some I helped along their way.”
“To ease their suffering,” Gideon said. “There was no malice in it.”
“You screamed at me to let you die. I didn’t.”
Gideon winced at the reminder. “You were right not to. I didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe they didn’t either.” Peters turned away again. “I don’t want to remember them, Gideon. But part of me won’t give them up.” He shoved his hands into the pockets on his bottle green jacket. “If I don’t remember them, who will?”
Gideon had no answer. “Why didn’t you let me die?”
Peters laughed and this time it was a genuine laugh. “I had nothing to do with it after my initial involvement on the field at Badajoz. Charles refused to let you go.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not true. I could have let you die. I could have kept Charles from you. It would have killed you fast enough. But it would have killed him too.” He turned and walked over to the nearest chair, sinking into it. “Every doctor—every good doctor—has an instinct that tells him what treatments will help and what treatments will harm each individual patient. And my instinct told me that if I separated you and Charles you’d die. So I let him stay and take care of you, and you both lived.”
“Charles was not injured, at least not to my knowledge.”
“I’m a doctor, not a fool.” Gideon snorted and Peters ignored him. “I knew what was going on. It was written on Charles’ face for all to see, and it was in your voice when you called for him in your delirium.” Peters reached for his teacup but he didn’t take a drink, just stared at it in his hand. “If you had died he would have walked right out on the next battlefield into a bullet or a bayonet. Or he would have put a bullet in his own brain.”
Gideon had a sick feeling at the thought and rubbed his chest. “I hate that he remembers,” he whispered. He was shocked as soon as the words were out. He hadn’t meant to say them.
“You can’t make him forget. Nothing will make him forget. Not even if you rid yourself of the scars, which simply isn’t possible. You’ll just kill yourself trying.”
“I hate that he’s the one who wakes up shaking and retching and crying in the night. I hate that I can’t make that go away. And I hate even more that I’m the one who did that to him.” Gideon covered his eyes with one hand, willing his weakness away. Willing the words away.
“Then go to him and hold him until he stops shaking, and clean him up after he retches,” Peters said prosaically. “That’s all you can do, and all he expects you to do. You’re not God either, Gideon.” Gideon pulled his hand away to glare at him and Peters put his cup down with a sigh. “What about Mrs. North?”
Gideon frowned. “What about her?”
“How does she feel about Charles? About all this?”
Gideon wasn’t sure what he meant by all this. “She loves him.” He shook his head. “I think she understands him more than I do.”
“Well, that’s not difficult,” Peters said with snort of disgust. So they were back on their old footing, thank God. Peters looked around. “I need a drink.”
Gideon picked up his crutches and rose from his chair. He went to the wall and slid back a panel that was all but invisible, revealing a shelf filled with bottles.
“Well, that’s handy,” Peters said with appreciation as he walked over.
Gideon silently handed a bottle of whiskey to Peters, who hesitated a moment and then took it. Gideon passed him a glass.
“She loves you, you know,” he said over his shoulder as he walked back to the settee. He looked thin now that Gideon thought about it. Too thin and much too haggard.
“Yes,” Gideon agreed, “she does. Although it hasn’t done her much good.”
Peters looked up, the bottle suspended over the glass, the amber liquid held just below the lip. “I think she’s done all right, North.”
Gideon watched him fill the glass and then take a long drink. He sighed with contentment as he lowered the glass. He raised it after a moment and drained it dry. Then he set it back on the table and refilled it. Gideon quietly left him to his whiskey, closing the door behind him.
———
Dr. Peters was slumped so far down in his chair Sarah feared he was going to slide under the table. He’d hardly eaten a thing. He was clearly drunk. Although to be fair, he was a quiet, polite drunkard. Added to his exhaustion, the drink had done him in.
Even drunk, Dr. Peters was a better dinner companion than Dr. Jones. Jones had spent most of dinner trying to piously convince her and Gideon of the importance of taking his treatment. He seemed to think it would make them more attractive, more self-confident, happier, stronger and apparently fertile. The last had finally caused Gideon to give him an ice-cold, quelling look. Sarah just laughed.
“Trust me, doctor,” she said as she cut her lamb, “Mr. North has no problems pertaining to his virility.”
Dr. Jones turned beet red and Dr. Peters chuckled drunkenly. “Good to know,” Peters mumbled. He actually elicited a small smile from Gideon.
“Thank you, my dear,” Gideon said graciously. He turned to Dr. Jones. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, doctor. I shall send a letter for my man of business with you to London and you will be duly compensated for the inconvenience.”
Dr. Peters let out a quiet snore. Sarah motioned the footman over. “Please see Dr. Peters to his room. Carefully, please. He is exhausted from his travels.”
As the footman gently roused Peters from his chair and led him from the room, Dr. Jones muttered, “I believe it is the drink that has affected him more than his travels.”
Gideon turned an angry expression on the doctor, surprising Sarah. “You have no idea what you are talking about, doctor, and I do not like the implications of your tone.”
Dr. Jones threw his napkin down on the table and stood. He bowed to both of them. “I shall retire and leave for London first thing in the morning.” He looked at Gideon. “I shall attend you in your study at that time to receive the letter you spoke of.”
Gideon nodded coldly and Anders opened the door to let the doctor out. When the door closed behind the doctor, Gideon slumped in his seat. “I’m sorry,” he said, sheepishly looking at Sarah. “I cannot promise I won’t do that again.”
Sarah set her fork down and toyed with her spoon a moment before nonchalantly stirring her tea. “Seek out medical miracles?”
Gideon shook his head. “No. I believe I have received the only miracle I’m going to get in this life. I meant inflict unpleasant people on you in awkward situations.” He sighed. “I’m not a very good judge of character. You and Charles are much better at that. It takes me some time to realize people are not what they seem.” He sat up and took a drink of his wine. He licked his lips as he set the glass down. “I tend to avoid people rather than misjudge them. It’s easier that way.”
Sarah patted his hand. “You must let me take care of it then, darling. I shall protect you from unscrupulous characters.”
Gideon’s brow popped up as he gave her that wry look that she adored. “My lady in shining armor.”
Anders came to remove the dishes. He started to pour Sarah another cup of tea, but Gideon waved him away. Sarah looked at him questioningly. “Would you care to take a walk?” he asked. “It’s a beautiful evening.”
Sarah smiled. “I’d love to.” She got up and waited by the door for him. He seemed to be walking rather slowly tonight.
They walked down the drive and past the gazebo, meandering down the path to her favorite bench by the old tree near the pasture. They sat and she waited for Gideon to speak. There had to be a reason he’d wanted to walk. She gazed up at the sky. It was black, filled with brightly shining stars. It looked like expensive velvet and she had a vision of herself rolling
around on it, her bare skin caressed by the decadent softness of it, fistfuls of stars falling from her hands like diamonds.
“What are you thinking about?” Gideon asked quietly. He turned to face her, his hands resting on his crutches in front of him. He smiled at her. “You were smiling.”
“Something silly,” she told him. She could feel herself blushing. Gideon liked the practical side of her. She hadn’t known this fanciful side of her existed until recently. He probably didn’t either.
“Tell me,” he said quietly. He reached out and traced his finger over the tendons in the back of her hand where it lay in her lap. It was one of his scarred fingers. She caressed it and he covered her hand with his.
“I was thinking the sky looked like black velvet and diamonds, and I wanted to roll around on it naked and spill the stars from my hands.”
Gideon stroked her hand with his thumb. “I’d like to see that. I have the means for the velvet. I’m not so sure about the diamonds, however.”
Sarah laughed quietly. She peeked at him sideways. “I don’t need the diamonds. Too sharp to roll around on.”
He was quiet again for a few minutes. Then he set his crutches carefully down on the ground and tugged on her arm, pulling her toward him. He pulled her up on his lap and she cuddled into him, her head on his shoulder.
“I’m not very brave, am I?” he asked quietly.
Sarah pressed her nose to his neck and breathed in his beloved scent. “What do you mean?”
“Charles was right. I’m afraid to get a prosthesis, afraid to ride.” He paused and hugged her tightly against his chest. “I thought that to do so meant everyone would know how weak I was, how easily broken. If I avoided those things, then I could live in the past, remembering when I could walk and ride like a normal man.”
“You are a normal man in every way that matters,” Sarah argued, sitting up his lap. “And you are very brave.”
“I agree that I am normal in all the ways that matter.” He pointed to his leg and his face. “You and Charles have helped me to see that these don’t matter. You see who I am, not this shell.” He shook his head. “But I am not brave, despite how the world wishes to brand me the great tragic hero.”
Sarah tilted his head up with her hand cupped around his scarred cheek. She ran her fingers over it and leaned in and kissed it. “This is bravery,” she whispered. “Not how you got them. But that you let me see them and touch them.” She caressed his cheek again. “I know how hard that was for you. And that, to me, is bravery.” She touched her own cheek. “I used to cover it, you know. Hide it as best I as I could. But you have always faced the world proudly.”
“Trust me, if I could have worn a poke bonnet, I would have,” Gideon told her drily.
Sarah laughed and settled against his shoulder again. “No, you wouldn’t have. Your stubbornness demands the world accept you on your terms.” She sighed. “Your bravery is similar to something you once told me about your carriage horses. It is not about what you did in one moment in time but about what you do day in and day out.”
“I’m angry at him.” Gideon spoke quietly. “I know it is irrational. But I feel as if he deserted me when I needed him most.”
“Has he ever left like this before?” Sarah didn’t think so.
“No. I think I was counting on that. I am a selfish coward. Marvelous.”
Sarah hit him lightly on the shoulder opposite where her head rested. “Stop focusing on yourself, Gideon. Try to think like Charles. Why do you think he left this time?”
Gideon took a deep breath and was quiet for a time. Finally he answered. “Because he knew you would not leave. He left me with you.”
“Yes,” Sarah agreed. “I think that is certainly true. And I’m humbled by his trust.” Gideon gave her a curious look. “He has never trusted anyone else to care for you, Gideon. You are the most precious thing to him and he left you in my care.”
Gideon shook his head roughly. “No, Sarah. You are as precious to him.”
“How does that make you feel?” She asked warily.
Gideon looked surprised. “I would have it no other way,” he said simply. “We, Charles and I, have always shared the same thoughts, the same feelings, the same desires. It seems quite natural that we would both love you. For any other thing to have occurred would have been…discordant.”
Sarah laughed at his choice of words. “And God forbid Charles bring disorder to your existence?”
“Charles has always been the one to bring order to the chaos of my life.” There was so much more underlying those simple words and Sarah felt a lump in her throat and the pain and confusion he must feel at Charles leaving. “Although,” he drew out the word, “at first I thought that your arrival meant his imminent departure.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t think I could have both of you. I thought it was asking too much. Of fate and of him. I thought he should leave and find a normal life somewhere without me.” He looked at her. “Us.”
Sarah bit her lip. “I’m not so sure he hasn’t done just that.” Sarah finally admitted her worst fear.
Gideon just frowned at her. “You know he wouldn’t.”
“He couldn’t stand to see you hurting again,” she told him. She hadn’t brought this up before because she hadn’t wanted Gideon to feel any more guilt. But he needed to understand what Charles had been thinking. “He spent years getting you to this point, Gideon. Supporting you and caring for you until you were strong enough to stand on your own again.” That brow went up at her choice of words but she ignored it. “You were asking him to stand by and watch you throw all that away. To watch you willingly make yourself weak and ill, perhaps die. And he simply couldn’t do it. He loves you too much and he still has too many memories. It would have finally broken him.”
Gideon’s hands clenched where he held her. “I didn’t think about that,” he murmured with disgust. “I truly am a selfish bastard. I never thought what it would to him to see me like that again.”
“He tried to tell you,” Sarah said soothingly, “but you didn’t want to hear it then. All you could think about was the past and making it go away. You couldn’t see the present.”
Gideon lowered his head until his forehead rested on her shoulder. “We have to go fetch him, you know.”
Sarah went stiff with shock and scrambled off his lap, nearly oversetting him. “What? To London?” Her heart was beating frantically. “Surely you can’t be serious.”
“It’s another test.”
“Charles wouldn’t test us that way. He knows what it means to us. You’re right, he’ll come back.” Her words were a quick jumble as she tried to convince them both.
“I’m not talking about a test from Charles, I’m talking about a test for us. For you and me.” He reached down for his crutches and stood to face her. “We have to do it, Sarah. We’re both stronger now. We have each other and we have Charles. The rest of the world doesn’t matter. We need to do this if only to prove it to ourselves.”
Sarah couldn’t take a deep breath. Could she do it? Gideon saw her uncertainty.
“You handled Jones without any problems. You put him quite firmly in his place.”
Sarah snorted. “He is an ignorant fool and hardly signifies.”
Gideon laughed as he moved toward her. “My dear, most men can be described thusly.”
He stopped right in front of her and she rested her hands on his chest as she looked at him anxiously. “You would disparage your sex?”
Gideon nodded in mock seriousness. “I am in a position to do so, being one myself.” He nuzzled her temple. “Don’t worry, Sarah. You shall conquer London as you have me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Are you sure you won’t come in?” Sarah asked anxiously, peering into the carriage.
Gideon turned to see Peters lean out the door with a weak smile. “No thank you. I am not up to any of Randall’s sanctimonious lectures today.”
Gideon’s
step faltered, and not because of his new prosthesis. “Perhaps we should send a note to Charles instead,” he mused. He did not relish Lord Jason Randall cornering him with a heartfelt lecture today either.
Peters laughed and closed the carriage door with a snap. “Oh no, you don’t,” he told Gideon through the window. “You have to do a little bowing and scraping. Borden deserves as much, and in front of witnesses.”
“What about me?” Sarah whined plaintively with a little grin. “Do I have to bow and scrape?”
“Never, my dear Mrs. North,” Peters said gallantly. “You are here so that when Borden dismisses Gideon’s abject misery he’ll see that there is more to come home to than this ugly fellow.”
Gideon preened as he adjusted his hat. “I though the beaver quite fetching, actually, not to mention this new block of wood.” He looked down at the tip of the prosthesis poking out from under his pant leg. He still wasn’t used to seeing another full leg there. It disoriented him a little each time he saw it. He looked back up at Peters and dropped his teasing tone. “I want you to know that I appreciate what you’ve done, Peters.”
Peters waved at him dismissively. “It’s my job to know the best prosthesis makers in London. But you were robbed. I didn’t have the heart to tell you how much he overcharged.”
“That’s not all I meant and you know it.”
Peters dismissed him again. “I have no idea what you are talking about. My time at Blakely Farm is a blur, I’m afraid. I was exhausted and quite, quite drunk.” He pointed accusingly at Gideon. “And for that, sir, I hold you accountable.” He tapped the roof of the carriage with his fist. “Driver, save me from Randall. Away!” The carriage lurched as Gideon watched Sarah wave.
Sarah turned and walked back to him, taking his arm in hers. Without a word they turned as one and faced the house. Beside him he saw Sarah straighten her shoulders and take a deep breath.
“Do I look all right?” she asked. He almost snorted at the womanly question.
“You look beautiful,” he answered honestly. And she did. She wore some sort of military style hat in blue and green that made her cheeks look pink and her eyes shine.
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