His cousin had brought him inside the house, but it appeared that they were within the servants’ quarters. The narrow bed he lay upon had hardly anything more than threadbare sheets and a wool coverlet. If he was on the lowermost level, he could follow the corridor to another set of stairs that would lead outside. But he didn’t know if he possessed the strength to make his own escape.
There was a strong chance that he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed, much less find a way out of the house. But he steeled himself with the image of Lily’s face. He remembered the soft curve of her cheek, the rose lips that had kissed him. . .and the golden brown strands of hair framing her beautiful face.
She would be worried about him, and if she dared to track him here, it would endanger her. He had to get himself home again, one step at a time. Though his body did not want to cooperate, his mind remained strong. He had to get out of here.
One by one, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and managed to sit up. Dizziness rushed to his head, but he took slow breaths to steady himself. He touched his ribcage, and his fingers came away sticky with blood. The wound throbbed, but he could do nothing except hold his hand against it, keeping pressure upon the ache.
He kept Lily’s face fixed in his mind as he made his way to the open door and paused to look for Adrian or Davonshire. He heard the distant sounds of arguing, but it did not seem that either man was within view. He had a few precious moments to get out, and Matthew forced himself to stagger down the hallway toward the stairs leading outside.
The pain in his ribs was vicious, tearing through him with every step. It was likely they hadn’t bothered to secure the door, knowing he could barely move.
But when he reached the stairs at the end of the hall, he didn’t know if he had the strength to climb them. Droplets of blood had leaked upon the floor, and if the men decided to search, it would be an easy matter to find him.
He had to continue fighting for his life, for Lily’s sake. She had brought him back from the edge once before, and he would use her love to do it again.
Matthew nearly stumbled at the first step, but he bit his lips hard and forced himself onward. His wound felt like fire, burning his ribs. Each step was agony, but he refused to give up. His vision blurred, and he continued onward.
In his mind, he focused on what he would do once he reached the outside. He would hail a hackney and go home. There were drivers out, even this late at night. Surely, he could find someone.
When he managed to push open the door, the night air was frigid and malodorous. And yet, it held the scent of freedom. Step by step, he ventured beyond the property lines, keeping his gaze fixed in the distance. He thought he heard voices, but when he turned, there was no one there.
Twisted memories invaded, causing him to hallucinate. He heard Nisha’s laughter in his mind, and he continued to hobble forward, trying to push away the visions that were not real. He closed his eyes, telling himself that he only had to make it a little further until he reached the London streets. He heard the soft nicker of horses, and it gave him hope. He trudged onward, trying to lift his hand to signal for a hackney, but his arm would not move. Every muscle in his body ached. The slick flow of blood, mingled with the effects of the opium, made it impossible to lift his hand.
He surveyed his surroundings and saw none of the London streets. There were horses, yes, but he had come out by the mews instead. God help him. He didn’t think he possessed the strength to prepare a horse, much less ride away from Adrian’s townhouse. Every last bit of strength was draining away from him.
He managed to enter the stable, but he could not take more than a few steps before his knees buckled. He tried to pull himself back up, but the tide of dizziness swept over him until he collapsed to the ground.
Behind him, he heard voices. “Should we bring him back?”
“No. Leave him there. He’ll be dead by morning.”
And with that, the heavy wooden door closed, leaving him in complete darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Outside Adrian’s house, Lily stood beside her brother, her heartbeat pounding. Please let him be here, she thought. Let him be alive. “Do you think Matthew is here?” she asked her brother.
“Even if he is, Adrian will lie about it.” James pounded on the door once again, waiting for a servant to answer.
“It’s long past midnight,” she said. “I doubt they will let us in.”
Her brother stiffened. “Oh, they will. If I have to break a window, we’ll find him.”
In that moment, her heart swelled with love for her brother. Although she and James had not always gotten along, in this moment, she knew she could depend on him. “Thank you.”
At last, a footman answered the door, a disgruntled expression on his face. “Mr. Monroe is not receiving guests at this late hour.”
Before the man could slam the door in their faces, James shoved his way inside and held the door for Lily. “Mr. Monroe has a great deal to answer for. And we will not wait until the morning.”
“Mr. Monroe is sleeping,” the footman said. “I will not disturb him.”
“No matter,” James replied cheerfully. “I have no qualms about disturbing him.”
But a moment later, there came a low growl from one of the rooms, followed by exuberant barking. Lily turned toward the sound and nearly stumbled when a large dog jumped up on her, licking her with joy.
“Sebastian!” she called out. She knelt down, ruffling his ears. Joy filled her at the sight of him, but she also realized why he was here—because of Lord Davonshire.
Sebastian sat back and scratched his ear with his hind legs before he stood and wagged his tail. And she fully intended to use the dog to help her. Lily stripped off one of her stained gloves and knelt down. “Find Matthew, sweet dog. And I will give you as much bacon as your heart desires.”
The word bacon caught the animal’s attention, and he licked his chops, his tail wagging with delight. The dog sniffed at the carpet, but instead of following a trail inside the house, he returned to the front door.
Lily pulled him further inside, but the dog held little interest in finding Matthew’s trail. Instead, he rolled onto his back, exposing his belly to be rubbed. She tried again, but he only licked her fingers and wagged his tail.
She wanted to groan with frustration. It had been foolish to pin her hopes upon Sebastian when he was not her dog and was not trained. She had relied too much on the impossible.
So be it. If he could not find Matthew, then they would get the truth out of Adrian.
But a moment later, the dog jerked to his feet and began snarling. The hair stood up on his back, and then he bolted toward the drawing room. Lily followed him, trailed by James. Although the room was dark, she heard a man yelp, “What the devil?”
James took the lamp from the footman and entered the room, revealing the presence of Lord Davonshire. The moment he saw them, he blinked. “Lord Penford and Lady Lily. Isn’t it a bit late for you to come calling?”
“I might say the same for you,” Lily answered. She went to stand by Sebastian, her suspicions alert. “And for a man who claims to have owned Sebastian for years, he doesn’t seem to like you very much just now.”
The earl stiffened and took a step backward. “He’s not very intelligent.”
“I disagree.” And the more she thought of it, the more her suspicions heightened. “I think he only obeyed your commands because you had bacon in your pockets.”
Davonshire’s expression turned annoyed. It infuriated her to think that he had stooped to something so low.
“He’s never been your dog, has he?” Lily prompted.
“Easy now—” His words were cut off when Sebastian snarled at him once more. “All right, no, he wasn’t. But it gave me a reason to see you again. Is that so wrong that I used him to get close to you?”
His confession infuriated her, for she now knew that Lord Davonshire was only interested in getting close to her dowry. “Yes, it is
wrong that you would take my dog away, pretending he was yours. Why would I ever want to see a man like you again?” She had wept over the loss of this furry creature, and she would never allow anyone to take him from her. Her hands curled over Sebastian’s fur, and she vowed, “I am keeping him. You cannot have him back.”
Lord Davonshire shrugged. “He was a nuisance, and you are welcome to him.”
Lily rather wished the dog would relieve himself upon Davonshire’s leg. But she squared her shoulders and demanded, “So why are you here at this late hour, Lord Davonshire?”
He appeared dumbfounded by the question. “Well, I. That is. . .”
“Because he was helping me bring back my cousin,” came a voice from behind them. Lily and James turned to see Adrian who was still wearing his dark tailcoat from the ball. “You were there, and you saw the madness that came over him. Matthew was not himself.”
“Because that woman tried to stab me,” Lily insisted. “The woman you hired from India.” Rage was seething within her, and James tried to hold her back. “I never thought you would take matters that far. How could you do such a thing?”
Adrian’s expression was smug, and she wanted to strike out at him.
But James intervened, still keeping a firm grip on her waist. “Where is Matthew now?”
“Where he belongs,” Adrian said. “I rode with his footmen, and we delivered him to Bethlem Hospital.”
Lily was aghast at the idea. “Why on earth would you do such a thing?” Her mind was spinning with horror. How could it even be possible?
But then, in a moment of clarity, she understood. If Matthew were locked away in an asylum, the property would fall into Adrian’s hands. He would have complete command of Arnsbury and its wealth.
“You are despicable. And what’s more, you—”
Before she could say another word, her brother took her by the hand. “Thank you, gentlemen. We bid you a good night.”
She wanted to protest, but James sent her a sharp look to be silent. For that reason, Lily allowed him to lead her from the drawing room. Her brother was up to something, and she didn’t know what it was. She had to trust that he knew how to help Matthew.
Sebastian happily trailed them, sniffing the carpet along the way. James continued to lead her outside, but Lily could not believe any of Adrian’s claims. When they were outside and alone, she asked her brother, “Do you think he actually took Matthew to Bethlem Hospital?” She had heard terrible rumors about what had been done to the criminally insane patients.
“No,” James answered. “For one, they would never accept a new patient at this hour, unless the police were involved. Adrian is trying to throw us off.”
“Then where—” Her words broke off when Sebastian began sniffing the ground. His nose locked upon the scent, and he trotted toward the rear of the house by the mews.
She started to hurry, afraid the dog had caught a wrong trail. But she held hope that he was close to finding Matthew.
Sebastian sniffed a path toward the stables and then whined at the doorway. Lily unlatched it, and the dog bolted forward. . .only for him to stop suddenly and gobble up what appeared to be a fallen piece of food.
She let out a sigh of dismay. “I can’t believe it. For a moment, I wanted to believe that he had tracked Matthew this far.” Frustrated, she reached for Sebastian and guided him back outside. There was only the soft nicker of horses in the stable, and certainly nothing else was visible in the darkness.
“Let’s go home, Lily,” her brother urged. “It’s late, and Matthew isn’t here. I’ll reach out to our friends, and we will see what can be done. And if he is in Bethlem Hospital, by some chance, I will get him out.”
With reluctance, she closed the door behind them and followed her brother back to the carriage.
They had left.
Matthew groaned in the darkness, struggling to call out to her. “Lily,” he rasped. But his voice was hardly above a whisper. She would never hear him.
He didn’t know how much blood he’d lost, but it felt as if his heartbeat were slowing down. Weariness overtook him, and he tried to call out twice more. The earthen floor was damp and cold beneath his face. It struck him as ironic that he had escaped torture in India at Nisha’s hands, only to be killed by her in the end.
His skin had turned to ice, and he was trembling hard. Matthew thought he was hallucinating now, for the world kept flickering in and out of his consciousness. There was a whining sound, and he thought he heard voices again. Or perhaps he was dying from loss of blood.
A tongue rasped against his face, and he blinked, only to see Sebastian beside him. He couldn’t quite grasp how it had happened, but the dog continued to lick him.
“Matthew!” Lily’s voice called out. “Dear God, James, we have to get him out of here.”
It was her voice that jolted him back. In the darkness, he tried to glimpse her face, but he could only see shadows. He moved his lips, trying to speak Lily’s name, but no words would come out.
It was already too late, he knew. He was shaking badly, his voice locked in silence. He couldn’t tell her how glad he was to see her, even if it was for the last time. How beautiful she was or how much he adored her.
She was openly weeping for him, but it would do no good now.
It was the middle of the night when James carried an unconscious Matthew to the house of Dr. Fraser and his wife, Lady Falsham. Lily pounded on the door, her worries heightening with every moment. So much blood. She hadn’t known he’d been that badly wounded, but she had bound the wound tightly, trying to stop the bleeding. Her heart froze with the fear that he might not survive this ordeal.
She kept pounding and calling out for the footman. When one eventually opened the door, he suppressed a yawn. But once he realized what had happened, the servant sprang into action. “Oh dear. Lord Penford, Lady Lily, do bring him inside. I will awaken the doctor.”
The footman led them over to a smaller room off the parlor that had been set up for patients. “Put Lord Arnsbury there upon the bed.” He rang for other servants, and when they arrived, he gave orders for hot water, bandages, and supplies the doctor would need.
Within a few minutes, Dr. Fraser strode into the room. The moment he spied Matthew’s bloody shirt, his demeanor transformed. “Now what’s happened to you, lad?” he murmured, pulling back the shirt to examine Matthew. Without looking up, he said to James, “I need more light. Hold the lamp so I can have a look at his wound. Lady Lily, fetch me that basin of water and bring some linen so I can clean it.”
Her hands were shaking so badly, she nearly spilled the water, but she hurried to obey. Inwardly, she voiced a thousand prayers, hoping Matthew would live. The doctor’s face remained grave as he cut away her makeshift bandage to examine the jagged wound.
“It hasn’t struck a vital organ,” Dr. Fraser said, “but the amount of blood he’s lost is disturbing. His heart is struggling to beat.”
A cry sounded from the doorway, and Juliette entered the room. She was wearing a nightgown and wrapper, and she moved to kneel beside Matthew. “How did this happen?”
James explained hurriedly, but his voice held a quiet tone of fear. “He’s been bleeding for three hours.”
Dr. Fraser examined the wound closely. “It looks as if he tried to bind his ribs before you did, Lily. Or perhaps he lay upon his side, and that put pressure upon it. But I wouldna be lying if I did no’ say ’tis a miracle he’s still breathing.”
“Save him, Paul,” Juliette pleaded. “He cannot die.” Tears slid down her cheeks, and Lily reached out to take her hand, sharing in her grief. But she had fallen into such numbness, she could scarcely breathe.
Dr. Fraser cleaned the wound and began treating it. It tormented Lily to see Matthew lying so motionless, and it appeared he was already dead. Her heart refused to accept the thought. She murmured a litany of prayers all throughout the doctor’s ministrations, until Matthew’s wounds were bandaged.
“I dar
e not give him laudanum,” he admitted. “It would stop his heart.” Eyeing the women, he added, “The most you can do now is pray.”
“I will stay with him,” Lily promised. “And if anything happens, I will send for you.”
“I will join you,” Juliette said to Lily, but the doctor guided her back.
“Give them a moment alone first,” he said.
A terror lanced Lily’s heart when she understood why. He believed she needed a chance to say goodbye to Matthew before he died. Dear God, no.
One by one, they left her alone with him. Matthew’s pallor was so gray, she feared the worst. He had battled death in India once before, but she didn’t know if he could overcome this.
“I am here, Matthew,” she said gently. She slid her fingertips over his face, but he did not react. She wished for any response at all, even if he spoke to her the way he first had when he’d returned from India.
“I suppose I should have brought Beast with me,” she offered. “Or even Sebastian. He did help us find you, you know. We had given up, but he kept pulling me back and whining until we opened the doors and searched again.” A tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn’t bother to brush it away. “I told Lord Davonshire that I’m keeping Sebastian.”
Lily kept talking, telling him stories about the dog. She poured out her heart, never ceasing as she begged him to fight for each breath. And when she could hardly talk about anything else, she laid her cheek against his chest and held his hand. It shattered her that she could do nothing to ease his suffering.
She had loved this man for so long, and they had battled the demons of his past together. He had survived those moments of darkness, only to come out stronger. And somehow, he knew her more deeply than anyone else.
“I need you to get well,” she whispered. “So I can marry you.” His hand was terribly cold, so cold, she didn’t know if he had heard anything she’d said. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she squeezed his palm. “I love you, Matthew.” She brought his hand to her mouth and repeated, “I love you.”
What the Earl Needs Now (The Earls Next Door Book 2) Page 27