The carriage halted, and Florence emerged. Gwendoline drew in a sharp breath of air.
When Florence neared, she looked like an entirely different woman. Even before she spoke, Gwendoline saw Florence’s pale face, wild hair, and red rimmed eyes. The lady nearly ran into the Newhost Manor, and when Florence put her hands on Gwendoline’s shoulders, she visibly shivered. A knot of fear twisted in Gwendoline’s belly. Whatever news Florence had found, it must be dreadful.
“We need to sit,” Florence said.
Gwendoline glanced around the foyer, noting that a couple of housemaids had paused in their work to watch the unfolding scene. “Come on,” Gwendoline said, linking her arm with Florence’s.
She had to set aside her fear for Lord Caspian, just until she and Florence were alone in the parlor and did not risk being overheard. The two ladies hurried to the parlor. While Florence seated herself, Gwendoline pulled the door closed behind her, so the staff would not enter.
Then, Gwendoline steeled herself. She turned around and joined Florence, who seemed to have grown paler since she’d arrived.
“Thank you for returning so quickly,” Gwendoline said, “Even though, I can see what you have learned distresses you.”
“I fear it will distress you, too,” Florence said.
Gwendoline lowered herself onto the seat beside her friend. It was much worse now that she realized her fears might be realized. Whatever fate had befallen Lord Caspian, it was clearly not a good one. “What has happened?” Gwendoline asked, her voice shaking.
“It isn’t good,” Florence said.
Gwendoline scarcely dared to breathe. “I—I had guessed as much.”
“He and Lord Noah went riding together in the afternoon, but they parted ways. Lord Noah returned home, while Lord Caspian continued riding for a little longer. According to his brother, Lord Caspian wanted to think over some matters. But as the day stretched on, Lord Caspian did not return, and his brother became worried. After a few hours, Lord Noah rode out again to find him.”
Gwendoline felt herself shivering. “And?” she whispered.
“He’s alive.” But Florence’s tone wasn’t encouraging. “Something spooked his horse. Lord Caspian was riding near a cliff, and when his horse tried to bolt, he fell off and struck his head. He was very lucky. Had the lord fallen just a few meters to the right, I’m told he would have fallen to his death.”
Gwendoline’s chest tightened. Ice seemed to fill her veins, and yet a fiery anger curled in her belly. Someone had hurt Lord Caspian, had nearly killed him. And for what? For daring to investigate the truth? For trying to end a feud that benefited no one?
“It wasn’t an accident,” Gwendoline said, rising to her feet. “This is too much of a coincidence to be an accident.”
“I know,” Florence said, her face pinched in worry, “But I don’t know what we can do about it. Some of my friends—well, family friends to the Lockwoods—are going to visit Lord Caspian later. I may be able to tell you more, then.”
“At least, you’ll be looking after him. I’ll feel better if I know you have seen him.”
Gwendoline’s chest ached, and she wondered if she might be able to somehow join them, despite the animosity between her family and Lord Caspian’s. But she knew how impossible that would be.
“I’ll let him know that you care,” Florence said softly. “That you were worried about him.”
Gwendoline bit her lip an eyed her sketchbook, still close at hand. “Will you slip him a letter for me?”
“Of course, I will.”
Gwendoline rose and went to her sketchbook. She opened it to a blank, creamy page and tore it roughly from its binding. Then, Gwendoline scrawled her message, sending her well wishes and her promise to be careful.
As she gazed at the paper, her eyes watered, but Gwendoline blinked back the tears. Lord Caspian would be fine. He had to be. Her letter complete, Gwendoline carefully folded it. When she turned back to her friend, Florence’s face was soft and her eyes kind.
“Thank you so much for all of this,” Gwendoline said, “But be careful, Florrie. Please.”
Gwendoline’s heart would break if anything happened to Florence.
“Gwendoline, I promise I’ll be fine,” Florence said, taking the letter. “I know this is frightening now, but we won’t let it best us. We just won’t.”
There was such fiery determination in Florence’s eyes. Gwendoline squeezed her hands tightly together. “Yes. You’re entirely right. No matter what, we won’t let this—this terrible person force us to back down.”
Despite her brave face, Gwendoline wavered. She knew it would not be all that easy. If Caspian had been attacked, it was entirely possible that he might be attacked again. And then, perhaps, they’d come for Gwendoline next.
Chapter 24
For Caspian, awareness came in awkward bursts of color and sound, but the color and sound weren’t as he thought they’d be. Sometimes, it was unclear to him whether he was awake or dreaming. He seemed to be simultaneously in his bedroom and riding along the cliffside.
He let out a low breath. Caspian felt as though he’d thought this all before, as if he kept clawing his way through his own memories and floundered to find understanding in them.
Caspian was riding his horse along the cliffside, admiring the small, purple flowers and the wispy, green grasses that grew from the gray-brown stone. He knew that, at any moment, rain might be about to pour, but he couldn’t make himself really care all that much. Not when his thoughts kept drifting to Lady Gwendoline, her eyes wide and her face pale with fear.
Caspian groaned and tilted his head back. There was something soft behind his head. That made him think that he might be in his bed rather than still riding along the cliffside. But what had happened? Caspian’s head ached. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Some person. But his head spun too much for him to identify whoever stood over him.
I was riding, and then, there was pain and the ground rushing to my face. Or was it the ground and then the pain?
Caspian pursed his lips together and tried to trace backwards through his memories, tried to order the events.
“Can you hear me, dear?” a woman’s soft voice flitted through his mind like a butterfly through a clear, summer sky.
He hummed. Caspian could hear her, even if he didn’t entirely understand her words. When he turned his head to face her, it felt like his head wasn’t actually attached to his neck. Everything was too heavy and too soft, somehow at the same time.
“Yes,” he mumbled.
But he couldn’t even decide who this woman was. One instant, he thought that she must be Lady Gwendoline. His heartbeat quickened. Had the lovely lady really come to see him? Had she really been so worried about him?
No. Lady Gwendoline would never be welcome on his family’s property. This couldn’t possibly be her, although Caspian desperately wished it was.
“My poor son.”
A gentle hand stroked his hair, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. Caspian leaned in the touch, content to let himself just be petted for a few moments, while he tried futilely to gather his thoughts once again.
“You’re going to be all right, though. You have to be all right.”
His mother. Caspian blinked rapidly, trying to force her face into focus. Yes, it was Lady Elderdale. His eyes traced along the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and across her brow.
“My Lady,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry for worrying you.”
He was riding his horse, a faithful creature who’d served him well for so long. She never failed him, ever. Caspian was going to turn around and return to the estate soon, but for the moment, he enjoyed the smell of the coming rain and the faint hum of lightning in the air.
“I know,” Lady Elderdale whispered. “I’m glad to see you awake. You struck your head very hard and lost a great deal of blood, my dear.”
Had he?
Caspian only just became aware of the pa
in shooting through his head. Everything felt strange and distant, as if it was happening to someone other than himself. His ears felt as though they were filled with cotton.
A dark-haired man with a hawkish nose and brown eyes drifted into view and leaned over Caspian. “Good evening, my Lord.”
Caspian frowned, unsure if he was supposed to know the name of the man who leaned over him.
“This is the physician,” Lady Elderdale said. “Dr. Scott. He’s been tending to you since the accident, dear.”
A physician. That made sense.
Caspian slowly raised a hand and prodded at his forehead. The slightest touch sent a strange, fuzzy feeling through him, but the pain in his skull didn’t grow worse.
“Now, tell me if you feel any pain, My Lord.”
Seldom did anything pleasant follow the phrase tell me if you feel any pain. Caspian tensed as the physician’s hands touched his temples, rubbing the skin at his hairline. Pain burst through his temple, and Caspian hissed sharply at the pain.
“Apologies, My Lord,” Dr. Scott said.
Caspian grimaced.
“Do you remember what happened?” the physician inquired.
The horse. The cliff. And then, there was pain and the ground, but Caspian couldn’t remember why or how.
“I was riding, wasn’t I?” Caspian asked. “With…with Noah?”
“That was earlier in the day,” Lady Elderdale replied. “Then, you and your brother parted ways. He returned to the estate, while you decided to continue your ride alone.”
Was that what happened? Caspian furrowed his brow and tried to remember, but everything that came was hazy and unfocused.
“My poor dear,” Lady Elderdale muttered.
“Indeed. If Lord Noah had not found him in time, Lord Caspian would be in a much worse condition,” the physician said.
Much worse? Caspian sighed.
It is…difficult to believe I could feel much worse with the way everything keeps shifting around me.
Even his familiar room kept twisting around him, and his vision grew blurry. No matter how often he blinked in an attempt to right the world, Caspian couldn’t force the room to be sharper or stiller.
“As is, I think you ought to remain in bed for the next few days and work to regain your strength, My Lord. A head injury is quite a serious matter,” Dr. Scott said.
Lady Elderdale nodded. “I think that’s advice well-given.”
Caspian nodded and immediately regretted the movement, as pain jolted through his skull. He felt like lightning had struck him, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave the bed. At the moment, all he wanted to do was sleep once more.
And I feel as though this has happened before. I have likely been waking and falling back to sleep for a while now, and I just can’t remember any of it.
But—he grasped the thin, gossamer fabric of a thought. Lady Gwendoline’s face flashed in his mind’s eye, soft and indistinct. They had their mystery which they’d been trying to solve.
A cold knot of dread twisted in Caspian’s stomach. What if this hadn’t been an accident? What if someone had realized he and Lady Gwendoline weren’t going to stop searching and set to put an end to it? What if someone had made him fall from his horse?
But I don’t remember anyone being there. My fears may simply be the sign of an overactive imagination.
Surely, Lady Gwendoline would be safer, too. Being a young lady, she would be less likely to wander unaccompanied. A young lady was always accompanied by someone, and doubtlessly, she’d exhibit more caution now.
Caspian still felt a spark of fear, though, that something dreadful might have happened to her, and yet it was not as if he could ask. If he inquired about the health of Lady Gwendoline, it would doubtlessly raise more questions, and worse, it was likely to put other people in harm’s way.
Especially if this was no accident.
Lady Gwendoline would surely have heard of his accident, though. One of the ton being injured was an uncommon occurrence. And being a smart lady, she would surely take proper precautions to ensure her own safety.
“You must sleep, My Lord,” the physician said. “Rest will do you good. At this point, that is the most we can do, too.”
Caspian sighed. He wished the physician hadn’t spoken. Now, Caspian couldn’t remember what it was that he’d been thinking about.
“Whatever you think is best,” Lady Elderdale said. “My Lord and I appreciate everything you’re doing to tend to our son.”
Caspian furrowed his brow, trying to decide if it was important that his father was absent. Likely not. He was a busy man.
“Where is Lord Elderdale?” Caspian asked.
Lady Elderdale’s face pinched, and Caspian saw a rare flicker of something like anger in her eyes. But it was gone very quickly, swept away by a wave of concern.
“He is presently at one of the clubs,” she replied. “At least, I know that was his intention. You know how your father is. But he was here earlier and terribly distraught. I’m sure My Lord will be deeply relieved to learn that you are awake and speaking to us. You did give us such a fright.”
It wasn’t as if Lord Elderdale’s presence could have changed anything. Caspian felt an odd sense of embarrassment. It really was rather selfish of him to presume that his mother and father both ought to be lingering about and watching over him as he recovered.
“I’m sure,” Caspian replied.
The physician pressed a bottle against Caspian’s lips. “If you’ll drink this, My Lord,” he said.
Caspian immediately swallowed, grimacing at the bitter taste, but he forced himself to drink the whole concoction. Then, he settled back into the pillows, wincing as a jolt of pain thundered across his skull. This was utterly miserable.
His mother squeezed his hand. “I’ll give you some time alone, so you can rest,” she said.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
His mother left in a whisper of peach silk, followed by the physician, who gave Caspian a respectful nod. The Lord sighed and stared at the ceiling, which shifted in and out of focus as if a fog was moving across it.
* * *
When Caspian woke again, his head felt strangely heavy. It was as if rain clouds gathered inside his mind, dropping rain on everything and casting the world into a dizzy, indistinct thing.
His temples throbbed, and pain burst through his skull. He winced and blew out softly between his teeth. There were shapes, indistinct strokes of color, around him.
Maybe…
His head hurt too much to form a coherent thought, but he became dimly aware of one of the shapes moving closer to him.
“My Lord? Can you hear me?” A woman’s voice, as delicate and melodic as a nightingale, drifted through the haze of fog.
Caspian groaned, the sound coming out low and pained.
“My poor Lord,” the woman murmured.
“He’s been like this for a while now.” That was a man’s voice.
Caspian turned his head and blinked rapidly, trying to put a name to the face. He studied the thick, dark hair and the piercing green eyes. The face was familiar.
“How do you feel?” the man’s face drifted closer.
Noah. It is Noah, my brother. Yes, it makes sense that he would be here.
A couple more faces swam into view. It was two young ladies, probably friends of Lady Florence. Hadn’t Lady Elderdale mentioned that Caspian might have guests? He thought she had, but Caspian could not entirely recall if that conversation had happened or if it was merely a figment of his over-taxed imagination.
I must be terribly exciting now, laying here.
Caspian cleared his throat and tried to put the words together to reassure them all, but speaking was like trying to wade through a deep pool of water. And in his present state, he could barely manage that.
“I’m here,” he finally rasped. “But I won’t say that I’m feeling well.”
Lady Florence let out a nervous, little laugh. “I ima
gine not, My Lord. It was quite a fall that you took, but we’re still relieved to see that you’re still here with us and getting along a little better.”
Caspian nodded. The Lady took a seat near his bed. It was harder for him to focus on her there, but Caspian did not feel as though turning his head was a good idea at the moment. Everything hurt too much for him to move quickly, much less often.
“It will take more than a fall to end me,” Caspian replied, hoping that his voice was jovial.
Truthfully, Caspian just felt dreadfully, terribly tired. No matter how joyful he forced his voice to be, he felt as though the endeavor was fruitless. These were his family and members of the ton. There was no concealing how poor his condition truly was from them.
The Earl That Overruled My Destiny Page 22