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 her brother’s 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 bothered Lily to see Matthew lying so motionless, and it appeared that 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 dare 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 started to say, 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 at all. 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.”
She needed him by her side, for they belonged together. The thought of losing him was a dagger in her own heart.
Lily leaned down and brushed her mouth against his. Though he didn’t kiss her back, she could only hope that he had heard her words.
It was then that she felt the slight pressure of his palm squeezing hers. And it gave her a faint trace of hope.
Six months later
Matthew stood while his valet adjusted his cravat, brushing away any visible lint from his tailcoat. His best friend, James, stood on the far end, a slight smirk on his face. “Monroe will enjoy his new home, I imagine. I personally think you should have shot him. Accidentally, of course. Or perhaps sent him to India to endure what you did.”
“I hold more power over him this way,” Matthew answered. “I bought up his promissory notes, his mortgaged estate, and I command his entire fortune. And I think America will be a better home for him.”
“An ocean between you is a good start.”
“And he has nothing to return to. If he dares to set foot back in England, he will face criminal charges.”
“I still say you were too forgiving.” James picked up his top hat and opened the door. “But then, itisrather torturous for a man of Adrian’s upbringing to live on the frontier. He may not survive.”
“It’s in his hands now.” Matthew followed James out of the bedroom and toward the stairs. A sense of anticipation thrummed within him, of the moment when he would see his bride walking toward him in her mother’s walled garden. He had fought his way back from death’s embrace for her sake, and Lilyhad come to see him every day over the past few months, until he was fully healed.
There were no longer any nightmares to torture him. Nisha’s death had been ruled an accident, and he had found his own peace, knowing that justice had been given by Fate. The rumors his cousin had tried to spread about Matthew’s birthright had died down, thanks to the efforts of his friends and Sarah Carlisle. The scandal of Adrian’s crimes had cast a greater shadow over all that he had said, and no one believed his stories now.
It felt as if his life had been returned to him, only now, there was a very different kind of torment—waiting to marry the woman he loved. Lily had wanted to wait until their wedding night to make love again, and every kiss sharpened the yearning. Matthew longed to wake up beside her, to see her hazel eyes shining with joy before he took her in his arms.
And this day, he hoped to give Lily the wedding of her dreams.
Outside, the sun was shining, and he and James made their way outside Penford toward the walled garden where he intended to marry Lily. The door leading to the garden was open, and he entered the space where the wedding guests awaited them.
