As she began to fall limp and lose consciousness, she thought she heard someone call her name, and then there was nothing but silence.
Chapter Eight
Travell had never been struck with suchall-consumingfear in his time as an agent for the Crown, but when he saw Alyssa in thefrenziedgrip of his father’s madness, he had nearly lost his own tenuous hold on sanity. He’d seen red as he lunged for Lord Trenton, knocking him to the ground and rolling him onto his back. He’d just lifted his fist to send it flying into the older man’s face, but the fury he’d initially read on the man’s face was replaced with white-faced horror.
Slowly, Travell lowered his arm as Ives and the two footmen he’d enlisted to help him search for his father rushed over and hauled the earl off intothe coach. As they departed for the manor, he came back to his senses and went to check on Alyssa. Bruises marred her porcelain neck, but at least she was breathing.
He gently lifted her into his arms and strode to her carriage where her maid’s eyes were as round as saucers. “What happened?” she breathed.
“My crazed father attacked her,” he returned harshly. “To Rosewood as quickly as possible!” he shouted to the driver.
Travell cradled Alyssa on his lap. She had been valiant in her efforts to help the earl, but Travell knew it had all been in vain. Herealized now that he wouldhaveno choice but to suffer the scandal and send his father to Bedlam, for he wouldn’t allow something like this to happen again.
But first, he woulddo what he’d been dreading andsend a letter to his mother and inform herof her husband’s resurgence.
When they returned to Rosewood, Travell took Alyssa tohis chamberand laid her on his bed. However, the moment he did so, hereyes fluttered and she awoke with a lightcough. Relief instantly flooded Travell. He brushed a stray curl away from her forehead. “How are you?” he whispered, emotion clogging his throat.
She blinked athim. “I have to…tell you…something,” she said in a raspy tone.
She swallowed several times, but the effort seemed to pain her, so he said, “Don’t try to talk now. We candiscuss it later when you’ve fully recovered and Lord Trenton has been sentaway.”
Alyssa shook her head adamantly and clutched at his jacket lapels. “No. You mustn’t. He told me…about Sophie.”
For a moment, Travell was at sea, and then recognition dawned and all the blood seemed to recede from his body. “Do you mean…?” He was so shocked he couldn’t even finish the sentence.
She nodded. “Yes. I know today was…unfortunate.”Travell would have used a decidedly different description. “But we are…making progress. I…feel it.”
They were interrupted by an angry roarthat sounded fromfarther down the hallway, followed by a long wail, like that of an animal in great agony. “I just don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he whispered.
Alyssa grabbed his hand, her green eyes full of determination. “You forget that you’re not…alone.”
Travell couldn’t speak. In truth, he didn’t know how torespond. He didn’t know what he’d done in his life to earn the dedication of this woman, but he was grateful for it.
Hestoodand said, “I’ll send up a tea tray and see if cook can’t make some sort of herbal remedy to ease your throat.”
Travell left the room, but before he went downstairs, he had to grip the railing to steady himself. He knew as long as he lived he would never forget the panic on his father’s face when he’d drawn back his arm, fully prepared to deliver a punishing blow.
Until that moment, Travell hadn’t even considered what he meant to do; he’d just acted on impulse. But now that he had time to reflect, he was ashamed that he’d been about to, not only strike his sire, but someone who was suffering from a mental affliction.
Was he truly so deprived that he would have struck a sick old man?
Bile rose up, but he forced it back as he stumbled down the stairs and headed for the kitchens.
***
Alyssafeltbetter aftera brief nap, soothed to sleep by the combination of Travell’s manly scent that clung to his counterpane, and the stressful events of that morning. Once she drank some hottea andwhatever the cook had added to the liquid, most of the soreness in her throat hadeventuallydissipated. However, a glance in the mirror showed that the purple bruises would take some time to fade.She attempted to draw her fichu a bit higher to hide the marks, but with the current fashions of a lowered neckline, it was almost impossible to hide them completely.
She left Travell’s chamber and started to make her way downstairs to the conservatory,for she hadn’t yet checked on her roses,but she hesitated,turningback to Lord Trenton’s chamber instead.All was silent now, but she had to see how he was faring.
She gently eased open the door and peeked inside. She was disheartened to see the brown glass laudanum bottle was sitting on the side table. When she glanced at the bed she saw that the earl was asleep, but it wasn’t an easy rest, for every now and then he would frown, his legs jerking with whatever nightmare was tormenting him. Not only had his wrists been tied back with the leather straps, but his legs had also been bound.
She gently closed the wooden door, her throat aching for an entirely different reasonnow. It hurt her to see such a powerful man of society brought to such a low level. Granted, he might have brought all this madness upon himself;they might never know, but to be lost insideone’sown mindwasa personal hell that nopersonshouldeverhave to endure.
Since there was nothing else she could dofor himat the moment, she headed to the conservatory. When she entered, she was surprised to see that the Blue Ladies’ blossoms had grown even larger since the day before. If anything would make her smile, it was the sight of her precious flowers.
She grabbed a watering can andwent to the kitchens to fill it with fresh water from the indoor spigot.While she was there she thanked the cook for the herbal tea,atwhich the older woman actually blushed and expressed her appreciation for Alyssa’s help in trying to“restore the master to his former glory.”
Once Alyssa had returned to her roses, she began to hum a light tune. It was from a pocket-sized Swiss music box that her father had given her about a year before he’d died. He’dtold her thathe had gotten it during his Grand Tour of the continent and given it to her mother as a birthday gift. He’dpasseditonto Alyssawhen she’d turned seven. Although she didn’t remember much about her childhood, the years having stripped away much of her earliest memories, she knew that was one that would never fade.
