by Laura Landon
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll hurry as fast as I can.”
“What…is it? It smells…terrible.”
Winnie couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t know. But since Hodgekens gave it to me with strict instructions to place it on your back, I assume it’s something he uses on the horses.”
“That’s…reassuring,” she thought he said.
When she finished, she sat back down on the chair Hodgekens had brought in for her.
“Where am I?” he said when his breathing had returned to normal.
“You’re in the carriage house behind Townsend House.”
“You shouldn’t…be…here.”
“It’s still the middle of the night. I’ll leave before anyone rises. No one will know I was here.”
“I can’t…stay here.”
“No. We’ll leave for the country in a day. We’ll stay at Townsend Estate until you heal.”
“You’re going…too?”
She smiled. “I can hardly go out in public looking as if I were involved in a barroom brawl. I convinced Father I would cause less talk if he let it be known that I was needed at Townsend Manor, and returned to the country for a while.”
“Does he know…I’m—?”
“No. We’ll find a way to get you out without anyone knowing. But you need to rest as much as possible today. The trip tomorrow will be hard enough without you starting out exhausted.”
“Why did you go there…, Winnie?”
She knelt beside the bed and brushed her hand over his forehead. “Shh,” she whispered.
“Why?” he repeated.
He wasn’t going to give up until she answered, so Winnie gave him an answer that wasn’t a lie. “Because I needed the money. That’s the only reason I’ve ever gone.” She brushed her fingers over his forehead. “Now, go to sleep.”
He was having a hard time staying awake. His eyes closed, then opened, then closed again. “Rest well,” she whispered. “I’ll stay with you.”
She sat with him several hours, placing damp cloths on his back, then twining her fingers in his. She brushed his hair from his face when he thrashed from the pain, and assured him that she was there and she wouldn’t leave him alone.
It was all she could do for him. Only keep him comfortable, and pray he didn’t develop a fever.
After several hours, she rose and walked to the window. The sky was turning a lighter shade of black, which meant that the sun would be up soon. She knew she’d have to leave before long in order to get back to her room before anyone saw her.
She’d no sooner thought that when Hodgekens entered the carriage house.
“You’ll be needing to get back, my lady. The kitchen staff will be up and about any minute now.”
Winnie nodded, then wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. She took one final look at where Nick slept restlessly on the bed, then went to the door. “I’ll send out a tray of food later. Will you need anything else,” she asked.
“No, my lady. The lad will need to get as much rest as possible today. The trip to the country tomorrow will be a long one.”
She nodded, then stayed in the shadows as she went back to the house. Perhaps she could get a few hours of sleep before Anne came in to fuss over her. It might be as much rest as she’d get for the next week at least. Nick would need constant care. And she would be the one to care for him.
It was her fault he’d been injured.
. . .
Winnie sat with Nick’s head in her lap as the wagon made its way to Townsend Estate. Hodgekens had placed a soft mattress over the straw and made a makeshift bed for Nick to lie on. Winnie had provided a number of blankets and two of her best pillows for even more softness. They’d done what they could to make the two hour journey as comfortable as possible.
Winnie had also given Nick just enough laudanum for him to sleep most of the way. He’d shifted restlessly a few minutes ago and Winnie hoped they’d be lucky enough to get him settled in at Townsend Manor before he was awake. She didn’t want to think that he’d have to suffer while they carried him from the wagon.
At last the wagon slowed, then turned down the tree-lined lane that led to Townsend Manor. When they reached the manor house, they stopped and Hodgekens issued orders for a half dozen men to help carry Nick into the house and to the room the staff had prepared for him. Winnie followed close behind and arranged the covers around him when he was settled. Thankfully, he didn’t wake while they carried him.
“I’ll sit with him while you get settled in, my lady,” Hodgekens said when they were alone. “Tilly said to tell you she’s waiting for you. She ordered a tea tray to be sent up as she knows you’ll be hungry. And so will Mr. Stillman when he wakes.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Winnie asked. The color had drained from Nick’s face, and he seemed more restless, although he hadn’t woken yet. That wasn’t a good sign. She hadn’t given him that much laudanum. She thought he’d be awake by now.
“The trip wasn’t easy on him,” Hodgekens answered. “Some of the cuts across his back went mighty deep. We need to watch them close so they don’t fester. Or that he doesn’t develop a fever.”
Another wave of concern hit her. What if he did develop a fever? What if he died?
“But don’t you worry, miss. He’s young and strong. He’ll survive. Don’t you be thinking that he won’t.”
“Oh, Hodgekens,” she sighed as her eyes filled with tears. She was so frightened.
“You run along now. You look as if you’re ready to drop on your feet.”
Winnie glanced at Nick one more time, then turned to leave. “Thank you, Hodgekens. I won’t be long.”
“Take your time, miss. I have to put salve on his back. He’s gone too long without being cared for.”
Winnie left the room as Hodgekens reached for the salve. She wouldn’t be long. She needed to be with Nick…just in case he needed her.
When she got to her suite of rooms, Tilly had unpacked her clothes and had a tray of tea and small sandwiches waiting for her.
“Sit down and eat something before you return to Mr. Stillman,” Tilly said when Winnie had changed. “I’d order you to rest for a while, but I know you’d refuse that suggestion.”
“I can’t rest, Tilly. I have to get back to him.”
“At least have a cup of tea first, and something to eat.”
Winnie hadn’t eaten since early this morning and was hungry, so she drank a cup of tea and ate a sandwich. “Did the staff ask about my bruises?” Winnie asked as she ate.
Tilly laughed out loud. “You know they did. They talked of nothing else. I told them the same as I told your father: that you tripped going down the stairs, and your face hit the wall as you fell.”
“Do you think they believed you?”
“Of course. There was no reason for them not to.”
“What about Mr. Stillman? How did you explain that he was here?”
“Now, that was a bit more difficult. It took some creativity on my part. I told them that he was one of the brigadesmen who’d found and saved Lord Benjamin’s little Claire, and he was hurt working on a case. Mr. Wallace asked your father if it would be possible to hide Mr. Stillman here in the country until the case was solved because he had men searching for him. I told them that they mustn’t say a word about him being here to anyone because his life might be in danger if anyone found out.”
Winnie knew that eventually her father would hear that Nick had been here, and there’d be a lot to answer. But until that day came, they’d live with the story Tilly created.
Winnie finished her tea, then left her room to go to Nick. When she arrived, Hodgekens had just finished applying salve to Nick’s lacerations. “Has he been awake yet?”
“No, my lady. But it won’t be long now. He’s been stirring.” Hodgekens put the salve back on the bedside table. “Do you want me to stay until he wakes?”
“No, Hodgekens. I’ll be here. And Tilly will be here sh
ortly with some broth. We’ll manage.”
Hodgekens nodded. “I’ll be going, then. There’s work to be done before nightfall.”
The stable master walked to the door. “Thank you, Hodgekens,” Winnie said before he could leave. “For everything.”
Their long-time servant gave a nod of understanding, then left the room. When he was gone, Winnie rinsed a cloth in cool water and placed it on Nick’s back. He jerked when the cloth hit his flesh and he moaned.
“Lie still,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. He moaned again, then his eyes opened.
“Where am I?” he slurred.
“At Townsend Manor. You’re in the country.”
“I don’t remember…”
“No, we gave you some laudanum before we left so you’d sleep while we traveled. Hodgekens said you might need more when you woke. Would you like some?”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “Not yet.”
Winnie rinsed the cloth and placed it on his back. He flinched each time she placed another cloth on his flesh. His hands grabbed fistfuls of bedding and squeezed it until his knuckles turned white. The muscles across his shoulders quivered.
“I won’t be much longer,” she said.
His breathing came in harsh gasps.
“Hodgekens said it was important not to allow the skin to dry out,” she said as she worked.
He didn’t answer, but held onto the bedding as if it gave him the strength he needed to endure the pain she was causing him. Finally, his grip relaxed and his breathing calmed. Whether he’d fallen asleep or lost consciousness, she didn’t know, but she was thankful that he was no longer awake.
When she finished, she sat down in the chair beside his bed and watched him sleep. Deep furrows still creased his forehead, and his body moved restlessly, as if he was struggling to free himself from the ropes that held him as the whip tore at his flesh.
Guilt ate at her. It was her fault he’d been whipped. For the thousandth time since she’d decided to let the world believe her mother was dead, she doubted the wisdom of her decision. Then, she’d picture how happy Anne was with the man she loved, and Winnie knew she’d made the right choice. How could she destroy Anne’s happiness and ruin her family’s reputation with such a scandal?
Nick moved restlessly, and Winnie reached out to calm him. She knelt beside the bed and placed her hand on his cheek. The feel of his flesh against hers sent spirals of emotion racing through her.
She wondered if her sister-in-law Eve felt this way when she touched Gideon. Or if Rachael experienced these same emotions when she touched Ben. Was this how it felt to be in love? Was this what women had experienced from the beginning of time that gave them the courage to leave the safety and security of their families, and entrust their lives to a man they’d often known as short a time as she’d known Nick?
Her vision blurred as she reminded herself what a fool she was. She could never expect Nick to return her feelings. Not after what had happened to him. She’d be fortunate if he didn’t hate her. Fortunate if he didn’t blame her for every raw, open cut across his back. Because what Ellsworth had done had been her fault.
If she hadn’t gone to The Dove after he’d warned her to stay away, none of this would have happened.
The price she was paying for what her mother had done grew greater every day. And no matter how far into the future she looked, she couldn’t see a time that she wouldn’t regret.
CHAPTER 15
Her prayers had been answered. Three days had passed and Nick hadn’t developed a fever. And he was getting stronger.
Last night Hodgekens gave him permission to sit on the edge of the bed. Two footmen helped him up, and he stayed up long enough to eat a bite for dinner. He was showing signs of improvement.
Today Hodgekens told her that he’d managed to sit a little longer.
She wouldn’t know. Now that he was better, she avoided being with him when he was awake and only returned to his room when he slept.
She knew it was cowardly of her, but she wasn’t brave enough to face him. She wasn’t ready yet to see the anger in his eyes, or explain to him why she’d returned to The Dove when he’d warned her to stay away.
Her actions had caused him so much pain she was certain he wouldn’t want to see her, let alone be in the same room with her.
It had been different when they were still in London. He’d been in so much pain that she knew he wasn’t thinking clearly enough to realize she was there. And even after they’d arrived at Townsend Manor, he’d spent a great deal of his time sleeping for the first few days.
But now was different. He stayed awake longer, and had improved enough that he could ask her questions she didn’t want to answer.
After what had happened, she’d feel guilty when she refused to answer his questions. He deserved answers. He deserved to know why she’d gone to The Dove that night, and why she was so desperate for the money she could win at the tables. But she couldn’t tell him.
If she were wise, she’d bring in someone trained in nursing. But she couldn’t bear the thought of not being with him, of not spending every moment she could with him, even if he was asleep.
She knew the day would come soon enough when she’d have to face his revulsion and disgust. When he’d look at her and she’d see how repulsed he was by the sight of her. When he’d realize how scarred his body was, and hate her because the marks on his back were her fault.
How could she expect any other reaction from him after what he’d suffered to protect her?
Winnie rose and walked to the window. The shadows were lengthening as the sun began its descent. He’d been asleep several hours and would be waking soon. She should leave. Instead, she returned to her chair and reached for his hand. She needed to touch him. Needed to feel his flesh against hers. This contact with him was important. She didn’t know if or when she’d have the opportunity to be with him again.
She sat at his bedside a few more minutes, then rose to put salve on his back before she left. She should have done this earlier, but she hadn’t. Now she’d have to hurry to finish before he woke.
She worked as quickly as she could, but something in her awareness changed. The intensity in the room altered the same as the weather took on a vibrancy just before a thunderstorm. It was as if lightning had struck to electrify the air in the room.
That was when she realized he was awake. That it was too late to escape without having to come up with an excuse that he’d believe as to why she’d avoided him.
She worked without speaking because…there was nothing to say that would make up for what she’d done. How could such insufficient words like “I’m sorry” undo what had been done to him? How could she expect him to forgive her when she couldn’t forgive herself?
Minute after minute stretched on in interminable silence, and she still couldn’t bring herself to speak.
“How long are you going to avoid me?” he asked.
“I haven’t avoided you. I’ve come every day to check on you.”
“You only come when I’m asleep, and make sure you leave before I wake.”
Winnie continued to work as rapidly as she could. She didn’t want to have this conversation. “I can’t spend all my time here. I have work to do. Townsend Manor doesn’t run itself.”
“I know how much time you spend with me. I know how many days and nights you’ve gone without sleep and food. The days you sat at my bedside and held my hand. And I know about the tears you shed when you don’t think anyone will see you.”
Winnie stopped applying damp cloths to his back. She didn’t want to talk to him about this. She didn’t want to stay here any longer. She dropped her cloth into the basin of water.
“I’ll send Hodgekens to finish,” she said, then turned to leave. His voice stopped her.
“Don’t leave, Winnie.”
She clutched the handle of the bedroom door, knowing she should open the door and leave. But her feet wouldn’t obey the order h
er mind issued.
“Come here. Please.”
She hesitated, then turned. She tried to keep the tears at bay, but she’d gone so long without sleep. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point, and she felt as if she were about to shatter into a million pieces. Even when she’d forced herself to lie down, she hadn’t been able to sleep.
She didn’t want to stay with him, nor could she bring herself to leave him. She crossed the room and sat in the chair beside his bed.
“You look worse than I do,” he said, in an effort to add humor to the tense situation. “Haven’t you heard? That shade of bluish-green isn’t the rage this Season.”
She laughed even though she didn’t think she’d be able to. “And don’t you know you’re always supposed to compliment a lady’s looks, even when there’s nothing to compliment?”
“I’ll always be able to find something to compliment you about, Winnie.”
She shook her head. “Don’t. I don’t need your lies. I know what I did. I know that you must hate me. And I don’t blame you.”
“Then you don’t know anything,” he said. “I don’t hate you. I’d never be able to hate you. No matter what. I might be angry with you, but never anything more than that.”
Winnie rose to her feet and stepped to the window where he couldn’t see her face. Where she didn’t have to face him.
“When will you let me help you?” he asked from the other side of the room.
She pressed her forehead against the window pane. If only he knew how desperately she wanted and needed his help. But asking him to help her would destroy her family. Asking for his help would force him to take steps she couldn’t allow him to take.
“Can you ever be honest with me?” he asked. His tone had a pleading quality to it.
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Honesty and openness. There can’t be anything else between us. Not for us to have a future.”
“You’re assuming there will be a future between us.”
“Are you saying there won’t?”