“Would you like to know something?” he asked softly.
“I would.”
“I think I could grow to be very fond of you.”
She feigned shock. “Of me?”
His smile seemed to fade and a strong warmth took hold deep in his eyes. Whatever was brewing behind those soft blue orbs reached out to grab her.
“Absolutely,” he whispered.
Alixandrea did not know what to say. By the tone of his voice, there was nothing she could say that could give either one of them any greater hope that their marriage was indeed destined to be a pleasurable thing for them both. When he brought her hand up to his lips and softly kissed her fingers, her cheeks turned delightfully pink. If she’d been reluctant to allow herselfto feel true happiness before this moment, she realized that she was no longer afraid. She would permit herself to feel it.
The door in front of them suddenly flew open and the light from the hall nearly blinded them. Matthew opened his mouth to berate whoever had enabled the action, but Mark’s serious face caught him by surprise.
“Matt,” he was breathing heavily, as if he had been running a great distance. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Here I am,” Matthew said calmly. “What is it?”
One word sent them all into the deepest levels of apprehension.
“Father.”
CHAPTER NINE
The nearest physicwas six miles to the east. John and Luke had already gone to fetch him, leaving Rosehill in a panic.
Adam was lying in an upstairs bedroom with Mark and Matthew to staunch the bleeding from his mouth, ears, and tend what they presumed to be several broken ribs. The broken bone sticking out of his lower right leg had already been semi cleaned and splinted by Caroline and Aunt Livia’s majordomo.
With all of the chaos going on around them, no one could explain how Adam had ended up under the wheels of a coach. The more Matthew worked to stabilize his father, the more he realized that he knew the answer to that question. Adam had finally done it. Though Matthew did not want to believe it, there seemed no other explanation. Guilt such as he had never known seeped into every pore of his body. He could not believe he’d finally made good on his threats.
Alixandrea stood outside of the chamber door, watching her husband gently feel his father’s torso for damage and fighting off the sick feeling that she had caused all of this. She’d tried to help Adam when Matthew had warned her he was fragile. For all of her good intentions, it seemed that she must have triggered a stronger desire for death within the man. He’d run out and thrown himself under the wheels of the Whitewell carriage that she and Caroline had been brought to Rosehill in. The coachman had been taking it around the side of the manor to the livery when it had happened and, eager to be done with his duties, had been going at full speed at the time. He’d never had time to stop.
The coachman was down in the hall, weeping quietly in a corner. Alixandrea remained outside of Adam’s chamber while family members worked feverishly to aid him. Distraught from watching Matthew work on his father, she wandered down the corridor until she came across an open window. It was still raining outside. There was a wide enough sill to sit on, and she sank heavily.
Rain whipped in, dampening her neck and arm. Gazing out over the gray and green landscape, she had never felt so awful in all her life. She wondered what Matthew as going to think of her now, the woman who had goaded his father into attempting suicide. The past few days had been better than she had ever hoped for. Now, because of her arrogance, her stupidity, it would all come to a crashing halt. Matthew had been right to not to want to marry her. Perhaps he had always known best. Now she’d done this.
Tears filled her eyes as she listened to the sounds of commotion a few doors down the hall. Something was happening inside that room and Matthew was in a state; something about Adam not being able to breathe. Mark was in the corridor, bellowing for a knife and she resisted the urge to go see if she could help. Mark’s eyes found her, bitter black things, and she averted her gaze in shame. She wasn’t any good with blood or pain. It would be better if she stayed out of the way.
Alixandrea stood up and began to walk, unaware that Mark was following her from a distance. She passed through the corridors of Rosehill and somehow ended up outside. It was still raining, beastly weather that wrought havoc over the land. The rain pummeled her as she walked without her cloak, sloshing across the wet drive and into the green lawns beyond. Mark, having stopped short of following her out into the foul weather, watched her from an upstairs window until she disappeared into a grove of trees. Then he went back to his father.
Alixandrea wandered desolately. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. The rain finally stopped and the sun peeped out from behind the dark clouds, weak though it might be. Alixandrea’s mind lingered on the room she’d left behind, where a man lay dying because of her.
Why did she have to interfere? Why could not she have listened to Matthew when he told her that his father was fragile? She had always been headstrong but it had never gotten her into trouble. Until now. Matthew would probably never speak to her again, of that she was certain. She was coming to feel the grief that Adam had felt on the passing of his wife, maybe not so severely, but certainly it was there. Matthew would undoubtedly banish her. Now she would have to live without him.
At some point, the sun started to set. Alixandrea was freezing in her wet garments, her lips blue and teeth chattering, but she did not notice. The pain in her heart was too heavy to notice anything else. The Thames was off to her right; she could see glimpses of the blue-gray waters in the distance. Had she possessed any courage, she would have gone and drowned herself in penance for her sin. But she could not muster the strength or courage to walk in that direction.
She continued on her present course, stumbling through the unkempt fields, far away from any roads that she could see. Like a drunkard, her head was swimming and it was increasingly difficult to move her feet. But she did not care what happened to her; she would be grateful if God would allow her to drop dead at this moment.
It was too much to take. She could no longer keep her wits or her strength. Stumbling to her knees, she pitched forward into the wet green grass. Her last coherent thought before darkness claimed her was wishing that God would be merciful and this was the end of it.
*
“He is ina bad way, but I think he shall live.”
The surgeon was a large man with a bad smell about him, but Aunt Livia affirmed that he was the best physic in the area. Matthew did not much care for the man, but he seemed to have done a well enough job with Adam. The old man’s leg was neatly cleaned and re-splinted, his ribs bound, and he was breathing easier thanks to the incision Matthew had made near his ribcage. A broken rib had punctured a lung and Matthew had known enough how to ease the condition.
At the moment, he seemed to be resting comfortably. The sun was setting outside and a bright fire burned in the hearth, creating something of a hopeful mood in the chamber.
