“The pain will not stop until you tell us what we want to know.” Her voice was calm, and seconds later, the man laid the poker across another part of his back. He flinched at the agonizing heat, trying to numb himself to the pain.
The torturer continued her questions, and he began lying even more, telling her where the British were camped, eventhough he had no knowledge of this. He struggled against the ropes, arching his back as the torment continued.
Abruptly, one of his bonds broke, and he lunged toward the woman, knocking her to the ground. A sudden strength filled him up inside, and he reached for her neck, intending to snap it.
The woman screamed, fighting back against him. He gloried in the sound of vengeance, though she was twisting in his grasp. Now she would feel what had been done to him. He seized her shoulders, twisting her arm so she could not fight back.
For the first time, he was in command of her. She would never torture him again, and he would end the nightmares when he killed her.
“Matthew, please,” she begged. Her voice was not the same. He hesitated a moment, hearing the woman’s sobs. The tone of her voice was English, not that of a foreigner. And when his mind cleared away the unwanted vision, it felt as if he’d slipped outside of himself.
Lily was lying on the floor, and he was holding her down while she struggled to escape him. His vision shifted, and in horror, he saw that she was crying. He released her immediately, and she clutched her arm as if in pain. The skin was reddened and would undoubtedly bruise.
Dear God, what had he done?
Her tearful hazel eyes met his with fear. “Get away from me, Matthew! Don’t touch me.”
Shock and self-loathing washed over him. He had lost himself in memories of the past, and because of it, he had hurt this woman.
He’d mistakenly believed that he would never be able to harm Lily Thornton. Instead, he had fallen into a madness that proved otherwise.
Matthew sank back upon the chair, and dizziness disrupted his balance. “I’m so sorry, Lily,” he managed. But the words would not undo the damage he’d wrought.
She stumbled to her feet, protecting her arm. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she regarded him as if he were a monster.
And so he was. He couldn’t be trusted to be alone with this woman, not after this. “I’ll summon Dr. Fraser to look at your arm.” It was all he could offer. He despised himself for what had happened.
“Don’t,” she said, backing toward the library door. Her hazel eyes held only fear, and when she reached the threshold, she added, “I am leaving. And…I think it is best if we do not see each other again. Not for a long time.”
Matthew kept his distance from Lily, but inwardly, it felt as if his body had been immersed in ice. He was responsible for this, and she had every right to hate him.
When the door closed behind her, he sank to the floor with his knees drawn up. Although he was aware that the tonic had caused him to lose sight of reality, the fault lay with him. He had known it would be hard to live an ordinary life once again, but he’d never imagined he would turn violent.
He reached down and unlaced his shoes, drawing them off, then his socks, until his feet were bare. With trembling fingers, he touched the sole of his left foot. The scars were red, the deep grooves carved into his heel. There was no sensation at all in his foot when he touched the skin.
Matthew stared at the rows of books, neatly aligned with their spines perfectly level. For weeks now, he had hoped that he could fit his life back upon the shelf where it belonged. He’d wanted a normal existence, one where he could eat, sleep, and exist as any other man.
But if he couldn’t even tell the difference between dreams and reality, how could he ever go back to the life he’d known before?
Her maid, Hattie, fussed over Lily in the carriage as soon as she saw her. “What’s happened, my lady? Your arm, it’s—”
“Take me to see Dr. Fraser,” she ordered the driver. Her arm had swollen up dreadfully, and she was in so much pain, she gasped when she climbed inside the carriage.
“It was an accident,” she lied to Hattie. “I slipped and fell.”
But the moment the carriage began rolling across the city streets, every jostle intensified the agony. Matthew’s eyes had been pinpricks, and he hadn’t heard a word she’d spoken. He had been so lost in his nightmares, he’d believed she was somehow his torturer.
The pain sharpened her sense of reason, for Lily now understood what he’d been trying to tell her. The years in India had changed him into a broken man who was incapable of being her husband.
Tears rimmed her eyes, but they were as much from her wounded heart as her arm. She let them fall silently, weeping for the lost man she had loved. Until today, she had believed that his tormented mind could be healed, but now, he frightened her.
The carriage arrived at Lord Falsham’s townhouse. Dr. Fraser and his wife Juliette had always been kind to her, and she trusted him to help mend her arm.
Her footman opened the door for her and helped her out of the carriage while she cradled her arm. The pain was a constant throbbing, and she was barely conscious of being escorted up the stairs. She prayed that Dr. Fraser was at home to help her.
Thankfully, it took only moments for his servants to lead her to a private room where she met his wife. Lady Falsham gave orders for the servants to bring her tea, and she assured Lily,“We will give you medicine to take away the pain while Paul looks at your arm. How did this happen?”
She hesitated, not knowing whether to speak the truth. But then, Juliette had seen her godson upon his return from India. His mental condition was no secret to her, and Lily confessed, “Matthew became lost in a nightmare. He thought I was one of his torturers, and he pushed me to the ground and fell on top of me. My elbow twisted beneath me.”
