A watery flow of tears seeped anew from the corner of Kate's eyes. She lowered her chin, grateful for the warmth of her winter jacket to ward off the chill that consumed her. Adam exhaled deeply and moved to her side, offering comfort.
“What condition is your father in, Annie?” For his sister's sake, he hoped the news wasn't as terrible as the radio stations had made it.
“I've tried not to have any word leaked to the press.” Anne supplied woefully. “I didn't wish to cause a panic among the shareholders of the company.”
“You haven't been too successful.” Adam provided. “Every report we've heard hasn't been good.”
“I was afraid that would happen.” Anne pushed off the wall, her hands falling to her sides. “My father was trapped in the wreck, his size proving a hindrance. I've been told, as well, the side and front airbags appear to have deployed with a large amount of force.”
“They probably saved his life.” Kate choked.
“It was more of a give-and-take situation.” Anne conceded, staring blindly at the large screen covering the overhead fluorescent lighting.
“Why?” Adam prodded.
“Recently, my father was reviewing the current studies on airbags. There have been questions about how an airbag's rapid deployment can fatally injure passengers instead of saving them, as intended.”
“I've heard as much, in a few documented cases.” Adam nodded.
“Automobile airbags in your country deploy far more rapidly than the European issue, but the damages inflicted are similar. The newer model of airbags, installed in recently released automobiles, trigger at a slower rate of deployment. The requirement, though, is the passenger or driver must be a good twenty five to thirty centimeters from the airbag to avoid potential injury on deployment.”
“Dante would have never met the twenty five centimeter standard.” Kate closed her eyes as she wiped the moisture from her pale cheeks.
“Due to Papa's height, the seat was retracted as far as possible.” Anne provided. “Even at that, the automobile was a mangled mess. The rescue workers used a hydraulic spreader to extract him. The airbag deployment may have saved my father's life, but he suffered some….” Anne paused, attempting to phrase her next words without the break evident in her tone. “He has a broken nose, and severe facial abrasions. When the side airbag opened, he suffered a broken arm and a few broken fingers. The powder contained in the airbags may have caused some throat and eye irritation. As of yet, we're unable to tell.”
“What do you mean? What is this as of yet?” Kate grabbed at Anne's arm.
Anne lowered her head, and her chin wobbled as she slowly enunciated her next words. “My father suffered a blow to the head in the accident, and he hasn't regained consciousness.”
Kate’s knees went weak. Rapidly, Adam came to her aid, pulling her upright and clutching her. The trio encircled one another, their arms providing the other comfort, a welcome solace Anne hadn't been afforded since the start of the week.
Adam was the first to extract himself. He lifted his head as the door to Dante's allotted room opened and a pair of nurses exited. Their expressions were grim as they pushed the cart loaded with their equipment and charts before them. Anne pulled away from Kate and, wiping the tears from her face, halted the nurses.
“Anything?” She questioned and was answered with the briefest shake of the senior nurse's head before turning away. Morosely, Anne hung her head “I can gather there haven't been any changes.”
“Apparently not,” Adam’s lips twisted. He wasn't particularly fond of hospitals, far too many memories his mother's own incurable illness haunting him. He wished he was elsewhere, but something unexplainable held him back.
“Would you care to see him, Kate?”
Kate swallowed and nodded, her heart jumping into her throat. She undid the row of buttons on her jacket and shrugged out of the heavy fabric, handing it to her brother. Inhaling deeply, she pushed the door to the room open.
The intense fragrance of flowers assailed her, their almost pungent aroma leaving her gasping. Kate was amazed by the bevy of floral arrangements crowding every corner of the private room, which gave the starkness of the chamber the appearance of a florist’s shop. Making her way past the flowers, Kate frowned. Although the room gave the illusion of brightness with the mass of vegetation, the liveliness was overshadowed by the sterility of the fluorescent lamps overhead.
Kate perused the room, instantaneously locating the occupied hospital bed. Dante remained prostrate and deathly quiet on the whiteness of the stiff linens. His right arm was enveloped in the heavy plaster casting and a series of intravenous lines escaped from the bend of his left arm. Monitors beeped incessantly at his side, indicating the steady throb of his heart, the eerie glow of the mechanism intensified by the blinding brightness of the light above the bed.
Slowly, Kate approached the bed. Her burning eyes were filled with Dante's horribly bruised and battered body, her heart welling at his defenseless image. The brutality of the damage he suffered left her breathless and aching, her breath catching tightly.
Stifling a sob, she leaned over him, her fingertips trailing over the swollen and discolored bruises ringing his right eye. His skin was chilled to the touch and unnaturally cold. She traced the multicolored bruises that viciously distorted the shape of his cheekbone before brushing across the unshaven lines of his stubborn jaw. Her trembling fingers traced the lax line of his lips, noting their marked dryness before she stifled the sob that rose to her lips.
“Oh, my dearest Lord Raven,” she breathed, her tone low. Wearily, Kate closed her eyes, inhaling his familiar scent. The damp saltiness of her tears dropped onto his skin, lingering briefly before seeping into the overly relaxed lines of his face. She continued her slow examination of Dante's features, intimately tracing the dark fringe of lashes, lingering over the tautness of his high cheekbones before trailing into the familiar thickness of his hair. “Come out of the dark, my love. Come back to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“When was the last time you ate, Annie?”
“I don't know.” She admitted with a guilty shrug.
“How about sleep?”
Stubbornly, Anne lifted her chin. “I've grabbed a nap, here and there.”
Adam nodded tersely. “Kate says your home is more than an hour's drive from here. You got a hotel room, instead?”
“I do.” Anne managed uneasily, not wanting to reveal another family estate was nearby. She had opted for the more private hotel room, knowing Waldenford Castle would have drawn unwarranted attention. The hotel was closer to the hospital and she wanted to be near her father.
“You have a hotel room and, in almost a week, all you can admit to is a nap.” Adam shook his head in disbelief. His dark hair fell across his forehead and shadowed his eyes as he looked at her.
She had, with the apparent lack of sleep and food, an unreal quality to her. The limpid clarity of her eyes gazed back at him, the violet shadows beneath them intensifying her beauty. The cloud of thick, dark hair framed her face and trailed past her shoulders, the heavy curls cascading down of her back. Adam struggle with the urge to touch the dark cloud, wondering if it felt as silky as it appeared. He had an uncontrollable urge to comfort her, to coax a smile to her lips.
“I can't leave my father's side,” she managed, thankfully not having access to the rush of scandalous images speeding through his mind. “There's too much to do.”
“You don't have to explain.” He allowed as her voice trailed off. “But you ain't going to helping anybody if you run yourself into the ground, Annie.”
Anne scowled at him. “I'm a lot stronger than I look.”
“I never questioned that, lady.” He drawled. “I think the hospital would prefer one Ravensmoor at a time.”
Anne looked shamefaced.
“My sister's here. From what I can tell, a lot has occurred in the last few months. Stuff I ain't been told about. I think I need to be filled
in and you're the only one that can do it.” He handed Kate's jacket to the girl, having noticed Anne hadn't brought one. “Leave your father in my sister's hands and have some dinner with me.”
Anne managed an anemic smile, a suspected dimple appearing in her cheek. “Are you asking me for a date?”
Adam chuckled, the intense color of his laughing eyes brilliant against his swarthy skin.
“Take it however you want, Annie.” He opened the folds of his sister's jacket, encouraging her to slip her arms into the warm sleeves. As Anne did so, the other woman's familiar rose scent wafted from the material and filled her with a sense of comfort. “As it is, I hate eating by myself. I'm my own worse company.”
“My father says the same.” She began with a smile and voice trailed off with the suspicion of tears. Unexpectedly, she fell into Adam's arms, and sank into his embrace.
“Let me tell Kate we're off.” Purposely, he set her from him, pulling the collar of his sister's jacket close about her face. “Button this up and I'll be right out.” He ordered with an unexpected roughness. The feel of her left him unsettled and he needed a moment to clear his thoughts. Adam didn't wait for her to answer him before he slipped into the relative darkness of the hospital room.
***
An odd sensation rippled through Kate as she stood at the elevator doors. It was the rushing sense of skin searing heat that flooded every pore of her body, leaving her weak and shaking. Sweat broke out on her brow and the palms of her hands were moist. Nausea rolled up from the pit of her stomach and filled her mouth, erasing the savory taste of a hastily gobbled sandwich.
Lightheaded, Kate swayed on her feet. She remained upright, swallowing and desperately attempting to remain composed. She exhaled deeply as the unexplainable feeling ebbed, replaced by an urgent desire to rush to the upper floors of the hospital. She felt disorientated and an odd fervency pressed her forward as the elevator doors opened. Impatiently, she waited as a group of patients and visitors departed the cabinet like interior, their expression a direct reflection of the cloudy evening skies.
Kate was alone, a new feeling of anxiety flooding her as she bounded into the elevator. As the doors closed, she impatiently bounced on her feet. Her ears roared with the sound of rushing blood and the palms of her hands burned.
Lurching, the elevator stopped on the fifth floor and the doors slowly opened. Kate stepped into the corridor, glancing to the nurse's station. Oddly, the desk was vacant and urgent voices filled the normally silent halls. There was the echo of another sound, more startling, and unexpected, which explained the nurse’s obvious absence.
The sound was a deep-throated roar of agony.
A slew of nurses rushed past, ignoring her as they broke out into a run. A white garbed doctor followed the nurses, who shaking his head and tapping on his stethoscope. Kate slid back against the wall, more interns rushing by.
The gruff roar repeated, filled with unspoken pain. At first, the sound failed to register, muffled by the closed door of a distant room. The harshness of the growl rose to a deafening pitch as a door opened in the distance.
Kate paused in mid-step, recognizing something vaguely familiar in the maddened tones. The tormented howl rose as it repeated, growing louder. Blindly, Kate ran into the normally darkened hospital room, the door banging into the wall. She paused, skidding to a halt at the number of hospital staff surrounding Dante's bed. The sound of her name filled the room, the single syllable echoing with desperation. A fully conscious behemoth of a man, her beloved, strained upwards against the restraining hold of the intern at his side.
“No!” Kate shouted as the doctor lifted a hypodermic needle from a nearby tray. She realized his intent and shouted again, tears filling her eyes. “Please, don't drug him!”
Her outburst ignored, she pushed her way to Dante's side. A well-muscled orderly pressed Dante's straining form into the hospital bed and the long needle sank deep into his arm. Kate wanted to cry, knowing the effect of the medication would soon take effect.
“Kate.”
Swiping the back of a hand across her checks to erase the trail of tears, she lifted her eyes to his horribly bruised and battered face. She smiled weakly and Dante eased back to the bed, calming at her appearance. The throng of nurses and doctors retreated as he stretched his hand toward her. The action was hampered by the intravenous lines and monitors attached to him, but the welcome was apparent.
“Hello, Dante.” She managed with a watery smile.
“Kate.” Her name was nothing more than a breath of air and a slow trickle of moisture seeped from the corners of his eyes. Her fingers traced his bruised jaw and Kate wiped the saltiness from his skin.
“I thought I had lost you,” she murmured, her words soft and caressing. She wiped tears from her face before twining her fingers into his.
“No,” he responded thickly.
“It takes more than the little matter of a car wreck to bring you to your knees?”
His lips quirked in a semblance of his usual wry smile and he winced, as the flesh of his bruised his face tightened. He struggled to find the words he desperately sought, his eyes rolling as the sedative took effect. “There’s…too much of me, Kate.”
She choked on a weak laugh. “Oh, I know, Dante.”
“Can't lose me, my Kate, my soul is trapped.” His words were whisper-soft and his punishing grip lightened as his limbs became heavy. “You….told….me….”
“What did I tell you?” She prompted, waiting. When he didn't answer, she feared he had lapsed into the heaviness of the drugged induced slumber.
“Told….me….come….out,” His lids lowered over his eyes and the tightness of his muscles seeped away, the relaxing dose of the medication coursing through his body. “You are the….reason….to….come….out of the dark.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Good day, Williams.” Dante's booming voice filled the foyer and continued to echo as the vigilant servant closed the stately doors of Colinwood Manor. Earlier, Dante had decided to trudge through Colinwood's vast fields. Despite the heavy dusting of snow on the frozen ground, he enjoyed the action. The inactivity was driving him to madness.
“Sir, I trust you enjoyed your trek?”
The response wasn't required, although he nodded. Williams helped in the task of removing Dante's coat, placing the chilled material over his arm before turning toward the staircase. He remained where he stood, listening to the hush surrounding him as the man disappeared. An unusual silence greeted him, unbroken by his daughter's mischievous laughter, or the whispers of the staff.
He stood before the great staircase, chafing at his forced inactivity. To add insult to injury, the inability to use of his heavily plastered arm frustrated him, and every second was passing at a slow creep.
Dante turned on his heel and paced the foyer. He paused, hearing the breathy strains of his daughter's laughter, echoing from behind the door of his study. He wondered why his daughter was home, when she should have been at Lorrington Hall. It was unusual for her to be at Colinwood during the week, unless something pressing had happened.
His thoughts filled with premonitions of impending doom, despite her joyous laughter. Anxious, he flung open the door and barged into the chamber, halting as he spied her.
“Papa!” Anne exclaimed excitedly and hurled herself into his single armed embrace, smoothing agitated hands over his face. Her flushed features paled at his foreboding frown. “What's happened?” She demanded hoarsely, her hands falling to her sides. Dante couldn't explain that he felt strangled, suffocating in the familiar comfort of this room. There was an unspoken change in his child, one that sent his every sense on edge.
“I'm fine, Anne.” He responded, pressing a light kiss to her brow. Dante heaved a much-needed breath, though the sense of dread failed to disappear. “Except for a few bruises and this arm,” he patted absently at the cast, the plaster thunking with the contact. “I'm none the worse for wear. I'm an exceedingly lucky gent.”
“More than lucky,” Anne released a heartfelt breath. “Your guardian angel has been doing overtime.”
Dante chuckled. “I suppose we both must look the worst for wear.”
Restlessly, he moved to the windows overlooking the vast rose garden. Large flakes of snow drifted from the heavy sky, and he pressed his forehead to the cool panes. “Have you come across Kate?”
“She's out and about, Papa.” Anne responded vaguely.
Dante brushed aside Anne's excuse with a sweep of his hand, lifting his head. Kate was avoiding him, he knew it, and Anne was preoccupied with some other matter at hand. He felt his world was slowly crumbling at his feet, and he was powerless to change the outcome. Concern filled him as he turned toward his daughter, desperately seeking a much-needed explanation.
“We have a guest.” Anne blurted and indicated a person with a broad sweep of a shaking hand. Dante had failed to notice the reposing figure, sprawled on the divan, when he'd entered the study. A raggedly dressed young man rose with a long legged grace, and his sea foam colored eyes narrowed with distrust.
Adam forced himself to stand taller, extending his darkly tanned hand toward the silent individual. “I'm Adam Bennett.”
The menacing shutter lifted from the startling blue eyes. A tremor overtook the earl before his fingers clenched into a tight fist, the dark frown a simple memory behind the suddenly pallid façade. The vibrant eyes were searching and hungry, filled with unspoken questions.
“Adam?” Dante choked out the name, making his way to the worn divan, easing his large body onto the faded leather. He didn't utter another word before Anne shoved a glass of water into his trembling hand.
My Lord Raven (The Ravensmoor Saga) Page 26