There was no screaming in Wildeforde House, which meant it was in Will’s head.
Breathe. Just breathe.
She took a washcloth from the table beside his bed and wiped his brow, trying to ignore the ropes around his wrists that prevented him from doing it himself.
“Can I get you anything?”
“A drink?”
She picked up the glass of water and held it to his lips, but he knocked it away, the liquid splashing over her skirts.
“A proper drink, Charlie.”
She should have expected that. She squared her shoulders, readying for a clash. “I cannot, Will. You know the doctor has given strict orders. No laudanum and no alcohol.”
The look he gave her was a hateful, hateful expression that resembled nothing of the sweet, mischievous brother she knew. It filled her with anguish.
“You won’t help me?”
She could understand his shock. Ever since they were children, he’d been able to rely on her to hide his scrapes or distract their mother or to shield him from the dowager’s wrath. On the occasions when Charlotte couldn’t, she would sneak in to see him afterward and give him the food and comfort their mother wouldn’t. She’d spent her entire life solving William’s problems.
“No, Will. I cannot help you.”
He snarled, as if the withdrawal of alcohol and opiates was making him barely human. “Since when have you obeyed orders?” he asked. “You meddle in everything. Be on my side for once, Charlie.”
The words were a knife to her chest. When she inhaled, the wound cut deeper. “I am always on your side, my darling. Which is why I cannot help you with this.”
She flinched as he turned from her and spat, “Then get out.”
***
Charlotte had been unable to sneak away until after dinner. Every time she reached the door out into the garden, a servant found her. Edward had calmed down and needed a full account of William’s story. William had called for her. When Fiona mentioned she was visiting John, Charlotte sighed with relief that someone was with him—at least until Fiona returned with a scowl on her face.
It was only when both brothers had retired for the evening, Edward to his rooms and Will finally falling asleep, that she could escape to check on her other patient.
Then she took the back stairs outside, only seen by one maid, who was sure to keep Charlotte’s secret. By now, she knew the path to the door in the wall by heart. She didn’t need a light to guide her. Her feet took her straight to the double glass doors of his study.
Mosely, too, didn’t say a word when he saw her in the corridors. She gently opened the door to John’s room. A lamp was on by the bed, and John was sitting upright, his eyes closed. Newton was lying on the floor. He raised his head at her entrance, yawned wide, and then settled back down on his paws.
Charlotte crept forward, gave the dog a scratch behind the ears, and then slid as quietly as she could into John’s bed.
He started, eyes flying open, mouth pressing tight at the movement, then relaxed as he saw her.
“What a day,” she said. He put an arm around her and she snuggled into his shoulder, inhaling that now-familiar scent of bergamot and graphite. “Does this hurt?”
“No,” he muttered, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “How was your day?”
She sighed as though she could breathe out all the conflict the day had brought. “William came home. It wasbad. I cannot even begin to describe it. He and Ned are fighting; Ned and I are fighting; Will isn’t speaking to me. Edward has him tied up in his old bedroom while the liquor makes its way out of his system.”
She’d held on to her composure all day, but now, in John’s arms, the tears fell. “I failed him.”
He kissed her hair and stroked her arm. “You did not fail him.”
She sobbed into John’s shirt, her breath mingling with the scent of him. His arms wrapped around her created a hidden refuge she did not want to leave. “I did not fix him. He’s as broken now as he was when he first returned.”
John’s long, gentle strokes continued, each touch slowing her breath and calming her thumping heart. “He was never your problem to fix, love. You can give him all the love you can. Edward can keep him tied to a bed in the short-term, but neither of you is responsible for solving William’s issues.”
Logically, she knew it was true. Will’s damage ran too deep. Restoring him to his usual self was beyond her capabilities. Her heart said differently. “He has been able to count on me his entire life. How do I abandon him now?” She looked up at John, genuinely searching for an answer.
