Looking up at Stephen in horror, the surgeon nodded apologetically and turned back to the other physician who was already poised to carve. “Of course, sir, of course,” he said, realizing too late that any levity at that moment would not be appreciated.
With the first removal of shredded skin, Flavion did his utmost to escape the hands that held him down. But by the time the surgeons set their knives and sutures aside, Flavion had lost consciousness once again. Stephen was enormously grateful at that point. It was devastating to see a loved one suffer — nobody deserved such torture — no matter what his misdeeds had been.
Stephen continued to hold Flavion’s hand as the surgeons cleaned and dressed the awful wound. What had initially been a mangled mess was now nearly unidentifiable in the stark absence of what ought to be there.
With Flavion finally bandaged and covered, Stephen stood and removed himself to the corridor with the younger of the two physicians. He confirmed Stephen’s fears. Flave would never produce his own heir and, in all likelihood, would be unable to perform sexually again. They had completely removed both of Flave’s bawbels, and those were believed to be the origin of most of the male’s sexual urges.
Stunned and grief stricken, Stephen turned toward the stairs. Before he could retreat to the privacy of Flavion’s study, however, he found himself face to face with Cecily.
She was pale as a ghost, and her eyes were shadowed with worry. “Is he alive?”
Stephen rubbed his eyes tiredly with the heels of both of his hands and nodded. “For now, but there is great danger of infection.” He did not wish to go into the details of Flavion’s injury. There were too many issues already clouding his cousin and his lover’s marriage. What now? “He needs prayer, Cecily, if you are so inclined. The surgeons have done their best but with an injury such as this the greatest concern is to follow.”
Cecily stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. At first, he resisted, for Flavion lay unconscious fighting for his life a mere twenty feet away.
But as he inhaled the scent of her and felt the softness of her hair upon his chin, he gradually gave into the comfort she offered.
“I know you love him. I know that you would have fought the duel yourself if you could have.”
Without thinking, he nodded and wrapped his own arms around her tightly. Being close to her like this, he again thought to himself that she was a refuge for him — a sanctuary. “I would have. In the past, I’ve wondered… but seeing him lying there… He is more than a cousin. He is a brother to me.”
Cecily sought hishand and pulled him into the sitting room outside of her bedchamber.
Once Stephen was seated, she went in search of Sally and ordered tea and sandwiches brought up. As she reentered the room, softly closing the door behind her, she felt her heart breaking. For Stephen sat, slumped forward with his head in his hands. She suspected, even, that he fought back tears.
“Is your head hurting you?” she asked tentatively, sitting down beside him and placing her hand upon his back.
“I’m fine,” he said tersely, not lifting his head — not looking at her. “I have failed my uncle. He raised me as his own, and I have done naught to repay him.”
“You blame yourself for this? But Flavion is a grown man. There is nothing anybody but Flavion could have done to alter the course of his life. Not your uncle, nor your aunt, nor even you can make his choices for him. A person is ultimately in charge of their own destiny — his own character.”
“But I abandoned them. My uncle taught me everything necessary to keep the earldom intact, and I left. I allowed pride to put a wedge between us. And then I decided that if the earldom was not to be mine I had no responsibility to care for it. It was all to be Flavion’s. Flavion would always get the things that he wanted. Despite all of the kindness my uncle showed me, I bitterly resented this.”
“Of course you did,” Cecily said matter-of-factly. “Nobody wishes to be given the responsibility, and the work, without any ownership. And Flavion betrayed you. How could you not have been bitter?”
Sitting back, Stephen shook off her hand. “You don’t understand! It was my duty, and I left. My uncle knew Flavion would not be successful as the earl. That was why he spent so much time with me… training me to do what would be necessary. And at the first conflict with Flavion, I deserted them. My pride, my anger — my selfishness took precedence over the charge my uncle had given me. I owed him so much more. If he had not taken me into his home upon my parents’ death, I would have grown up an orphan. I did not deserve his love, his time. I failed him.”
“It was your uncle’s duty to take you in. And based on what you’ve told me, it sounds as though he loved you very much. Do you not think he understood that you needed to discover your place in the world? Is it not unfair to expect any gentleman to take on the responsibility of another? Flavion was not dimwitted. He had choices in his life. He simply has made many bad ones. That is no one’s fault but his own.” Feeling helpless to alleviate Stephen’s frustration and guilt, Cecily laid her forehead down against his shoulder. “I beg of you not to do this to yourself. You are a good man, Stephen Nottingham.”
But Stephen merely shook his head again. “I am a man who has betrayed his family.” His eyes held an intensity she had not seen before. “If… no,whenFlavion is recovered well enough to travel, I think you should take him down to Surrey and spend the rest of the Season in the country. There is going to be a tremendous amount of scandal flying about here, and it would be best for you both to simply retreat for now. Flavion will not give you a divorce. I am certain of this now.” He took her by the shoulders and squeezed them tightly. “You must try to find some peace, Cecily. I — I would do anything if I could change the circumstances, but there is nothing… We must accept what is.”
Something in his tone alerted her to how very serious he was. “Why do you say this? Why do you say that Flavion will never give me a divorce now?”
Stephen winced and closed his eyes. He paused for so long that she thought he was not going to answer her question. But before she could press him further, he put his hands on both sides of her face and explained the horror of the situation. “His injuries have precluded the possibility of Flavion ever begetting an heir. No other woman will have him now, Cecily. It is doubted that he will ever be able to perform the marriage act again.”
At his words, she pulled away, shocked indeed. “His injury was to… He can no longer…?”
Just then, Sally scratched on the door and pushed it open slowly. In one hand, she carried a tray with tea and sandwiches. Cecily gestured for her to set it down upon one of the end tables and then waved her out. Oh, dear God. Were she and Flavion doomed to spend their lives together? Were they destined to live together, frustrated and childless, as husband and wife forever? She felt lightheaded and nauseated at the thought.
Stephen stood up. “Cecily, I need to be away from here for a while. I am sorry… so sorry…” With one last tortured look, he left the room.
She had not thought it possible, but somehow her life had taken an even more dismal turn than before. For she most certainly was going to lose Stephen. Not that she’d everhadhim, but she had hoped…
And, God help them all, as long as Flavion lived, she was apparently going to be married to him. In sickness and in health… for better and for worse… Oh, how she wished she had contemplated what these words could possibly mean for her. But Flavionhadto live. Stephen would berate himself forever if Flavion died. For he would blame himself.
It was what he did.
Numb but resolute,Cecily pulled out paper and a pen and wrote out a brief message summoning Flave’s mistress. Thirty minutes later, Sherman announced that Miss Daphne Cunnington awaited her in the front drawing room. Taking a deep breath, Cecily followed him downstairs to meet with the lady who claimed to be in love with her husband.
