James shook his head. “We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They believed that because we were English, we must know something about the war.”
Her gut twisted as she imagined what Matthew had endured. “Will he be all right?”
“No one knows the answer to that question. Least of all, me.” James’s shoulders lowered, and he turned back to her at last.“Some wounds don’t heal, Lily. And right now, it would be best if you stayed away from him. Let him convalesce with his family.”
She had no intention of doing so. It would take time, yes, but she’d spoken vows, promising to love him in sickness and in health. There had to be a way to break through his nightmares, to help him recover.
“You’re not going to listen to a word I say, are you?” James sighed.
“If, by that, you mean will I stay away from him? No. I will not leave him.” She moved forward to stand beside him. “Any more than I would leave you.”
There was bleakness in his eyes, and he swallowed hard. “I’m alive, and we made it back to England. That’s all that matters.”
She took his hand in hers. “And what about you, James? What became of you in India?”
He remained silent. “I am not going to talk about it. I would rather hear about what I’ve missed these past two years.”
She hesitated, uncertain of how to begin. “After Father died, we tried to send word. I don’t suppose you received any of our letters.”
James shook his head. “None. But then, we were traveling across India.”
After a pause, she admitted, “I was afraid you might never return. We didn’t know what became of you, and I feared the worst.”
He let out a slow breath. “So did I, for a time. But I am here now, and I will do what I can to atone for my earlier absence.” James put his arm around her and said, “I know I’ve been gone for a while, Lily. But I will do what I can to set things to rights.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I would not hold out hope for Arnsbury. He endured far worse than me.”
“I love him,” she murmured. “And I have nothing but hope.”
James lowered his gaze and shook his head. “I fear he can do nothing but break your heart, Lily. He’s lost in a world of his own nightmares.”
She faced her brother. “Then I will bring him back to this world. No matter how long it takes.”
Matthew’s memories had begun to return over the past few days. He had ceased taking any medicines, for the sleeping draughts were causing hallucinations. But the deprivation made his hands tremble, and his head ached.
Still, he preferred clarity to the haze of forgetfulness. His mother stood at the far side of the room where a breakfast tray was going cold. “Matthew, please,” she pleaded gently. “If you would just eat something, it might help.”
But his stomach twisted at the thought of food. He couldn’t bring himself to eat, though he vaguely recalled his friend James forcing him to choke down stale bread on the voyage to England.
His tongue was dry, and he reached for the glass of water. The taste of it quenched his thirst, but his hands trembled against the cup. “I am not hungry,” he said. “Leave me.”
Charlotte ignored him and crossed the room. When she reached the window, she opened the drapes. The sunlight filled up the room, and he squinted at the brightness. “There, now. That’s better.”
She was wrong. The sunlight burned his eyes, reminding him of the hot India sun against the Thar Desert. The yellow sand had seared his skin, while the dust had choked his lungs. He drank more water in memory of the arid wasteland.
“Close the drapes, please.”
“You’ve been in darkness for two days now. I know you’re not feeling well, but the doctor says—”
“He knows nothing. And I won’t take his medicines.” The man had only given him laudanum, which dulled his senses.
“I’ll bring another doctor to help you. Perhaps Dr. Fraser.”
The name did sound familiar, and Matthew tried to place the man.
“He and his wife are visiting London,” Charlotte continued. “I could ask them to stop in, if you like. I know Juliette would be delighted to see you.”
He recalled now that the Scottish doctor was married to his godmother and cousin, Juliette. When Matthew tried to envision Juliette’s face, he recalled that she had brown hair, touched with gold and a few silver strands. She had green eyes, he was certain. And she had always been kind to him.
But then, the idea of facing more guests made him weary. “No, thank you.”
