CHAPTER6
The cold had stiffened Ethan’s bones and numbed his injured stump until he thought he likely could not rise even if he wanted to—even if he had somewhere to go. He knew he should move lest the cold take his worthless life, but the ice around his heart seemed to have frozen all motivation as well.
Odd,he thought idly, that the cold of Mayfair could kill a man as thoroughly as the icy streets of the east end.His father’s garden smelled better, however, even with the flowers dead and the hedges withered and brown. His feet had found the garden with no conscious decision on his part after an hour or more of aimless wandering in the dark streets of London on the coldest night in Ethan’s memory. Now he hunkered between the cold stone of the garden shed and the unforgiving wall, unable to move.
The early morning sun rose weak and grey, but enough to pierce the fog and illuminate the place as if through a veil, and memory seized him. From his haven between the two walls, he could see the edge of a stone bench, one he and Edmund used as a pirate ship or galloping steed as the mood seized them in boyhood. One of the balconies two stories up would open to his brother’s room, the other to what once was his. Memory left him with a hollow longing.
He had left Chadbourn’s rooms in a panic, thinking to get as far away from the overbearing Landrums as possible. They pushed him, brother and sister, to open his soul to his family, something he could never do. It would hurt them too badly. Yet, here he was. Perhaps the warmth and obvious affection of the Landrum family made him sentimental. Perhaps he’d allowed Lady Flora’s earnest plea—and her gentle gaze—to penetrate the protective shell he inhabited.
He tossed about for somewhere to go—anywhere but here—but found none. He knew he ought to return to the Albany, but he found it harder and harder to think clearly. Before he could make the effort to rise, the back door of the elegant townhouse flew open and a flash of blue pushed past two men and down the steps.
His heart stuttered at the sight of Lady Flora Landrum turning her head from side to side, searching the garden until she jarred her coiffure loose and one chestnut lock tumbled over her ear. A spark of warmth curled itself around his heart. The foolish chit. She’ll catch her death without a cloak. The irony of the kettle calling the pot black brought silent laughter up from his depths until it almost reached his mouth. He longed to spar words with her.
“Next to the shed,” a voice said. When she marched in his direction, he pushed himself painfully to his feet.
“Ethan!” A man ran past her calling his name just as his knees buckled. He fell forward into his brother’s arms.
I can’t stay. I have to go. I’m not fit. No words came out of his mouth. The instinct to run drained from him, and he collapsed against Edmund’s shoulder. His brother brushed Chadbourn’s help aside. Ethan felt himself lifted and gave in to the feeling of safety.
“Ethan, you bloody idiot. We’ve been terrified for you; I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you home,” his brother said, carrying him inside.
For now. Until you know everything.
The warmth of the drawing room overwhelmed his senses, sudden change as painful as it was welcome. Edmund laid him on a settee, tenderly placed the arm missing a hand across his chest, and stood back. He studied the ruin of Ethan’s arm for a moment, jerked away, and ran about shouting orders. Ethan only vaguely heard him.
Someone, Chadbourn he thought, stood behind the settee and began to rub his back in an attempt to make his blood flow. One thing came to him clearly through the haze: Lady Flora kneeing beside him, her eyes on his, holding his hand.
“Whatever it is, Ethan, you can’t fix it by destroying yourself,” she murmured, and the sound of her voice saying his name filled him with another sort of warmth.
What was it I need to fix?The thought flitted in and out as blankets arrived to wrap him, and someone began stripping off his frozen wet clothing.
“Out with you, Flo,” Chadbourn called. “Let us get him dressed in warm clothes and covered.”
“No!” he tried to hold onto her hand as if it was his lifeline and failed.
“Moments only; I won’t let them keep me out,” she whispered, pulling away.
Rude hands forced him into a thick nightshirt and dressing gown, warm socks, and a cocoon of a wool blanket. All the while, one of them rubbed his back.
Edmund came down on his knees and began rubbing Ethan’s legs, but Chadbourn stopped him. “I saw it once in the Pyrenees. A man almost died from his companions’ over eager help. The surgeon explained that we have to warm his middle first. You sent for a doctor?”
His brother loomed over him, rubbing his belly and shoulders. “Yes, I sent a man running. Warm up, damn it, Ethan!”
A more welcome voice came to his brother’s side. Lady Flora dropped down next to him, cup in hand. “Sip it slowly; it will help you,” she said. The lady forced tea, hot and dark, on him while he struggled to remember her earlier words.What was it I need to fix?
“My lord, the carriage is ready and I am prepared to travel. Do you wish to add to your message that Lord Ethan has returned?” The voice came from the door.
Edmund stood to face the speaker. “No just— Wait; let me think. Tell my father Lord Ethan has returned to us ill, a physician has been summoned, and he is in my care. Assure him he will be well, however.”
Father!Like the sudden heat of the room his father’s name both warmed and hurt him.What was it I need to fix? So much, oh so much.
* * *
Flo fidgeted in misery; she found the Welbrook drawing room uncomfortable, filled as it was with memories of her last visit. Georgie had agreed with some reluctance to accompany her during proper calling hours, and that only after Will approved this visit.
Will himself had called daily, feeling obliged to mind the wellbeing of someone he’d taken under his wing. She knew this because he had moved back to Chadbourn House once he no longer had Ethan as a guest at The Albany.
He reported a sad case of lung fever, the doctor’s dire warnings, and finally, last night, a turn for the better. All the while, Flo fretted and fumed. She had to see for herself, and had almost given into temptation to storm the Welbrook house. Only with Ethan’s improvement did her brother relent.
