CHAPTER SIX
“Would you care to dance, Lady Lily?”
She turned and saw a dark-haired gentleman, impeccably dressed in black. His hair was cropped short, and his brown eyes held undeniable interest. He appeared familiar somehow, but she did not recall his name.
“I am Adrian Monroe,” he said. “We were introduced earlier this evening, but I suppose you may not remember me.”
She lifted her shoulders in an apologetic shrug. “Forgive me, but I have met many people tonight.”
“As have we all,” he agreed. “If you are not spoken for, perhaps we might take a turn?”
She pretended to glance at her card, though she was aware that all her remaining dances were free. “All right, Mr. Monroe.”
He smiled at her and offered his arm to guide her toward the other dancers. They joined the circle, and he took her hand, leading her in the steps. “I saw you speaking with my cousin a few moments ago,” he said. “Matthew Larkspur, the Earl of Arnsbury, I mean.”
She felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, I have known Lord Arnsbury for several years. I did not realize you were cousins.”
“Distant cousins,” he clarified. “On my father’s side.” Mr. Monroe spun her lightly, his gloved palm holding hers. “I understand he was unwell after his return from India.”
Because he was tortured, Lily thought. But in answer, she said, “He is still convalescing. I am certain he will make a full recovery.”
Mr. Monroe nodded to that. “Perhaps. I suppose he’ll be seeking a wife soon enough. He’ll need an heir after all.”
“It’s really none of my affair,” she answered. “I’m certain Lord Arnsbury will do whatever he wishes.”
Mr. Monroe’s demeanor softened. “Forgive me. I was merely wondering if you were already spoken for with my cousin. I know you were very close to him not so long ago.”
We were married, she wanted to say. Although it hadn’t been legal.
“We are friends now, but that is all.” The words felt like a lie, even as she spoke them.
But Mr. Monroe appeared pleased. “You do not know how happy I am to hear this.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Yes, he was a handsome man, but she did not feel any attraction toward him. As soon as the dance ended, she excused herself, saying that she needed to find her sister.
But Mr. Monroe seemed determined to follow her. “I could not, in good conscience, allow a beautiful lady to go alone without someone to watch over her.”
“Thank you, but I will be fine. I am only walking outside those doors to my sister.”
“I insist,” he said, tucking her hand into his arm. His sudden forward behavior bothered her, though she suspected he meant only to protect her.
Lily pulled her hand free and faced him evenly. “You are making me uncomfortable, Mr. Monroe. I have already said no.”
At least he had the good graces to appear apologetic. “That was never my intention, Lady Lily.”
She excused herself and returned to the garden where her sister was sitting. This time, Mr. Monroe allowed her to leave with no interference, but she saw his gaze fixed upon her while she walked outside. She found Rose where she’d left her, and her sister smiled. “Did you enjoy yourself, Lily?”
“No, not really. Mr. Monroe was rather overprotective.” She sank down on the stone bench and sighed. “I still don’t think I want to be here for the Season right now. The idea of dancing and flirting seems so wrong.” She had wanted to believe she could indulge in mindless merriment, but it was not so easy.
“Your heart was broken,” Rose agreed. “It’s too soon.”
That, and it was worsened by the fact that she had seen Matthew again. He was looking a little better, and it was good to see him walking outside. For a few moments tonight, it had felt like old times again during their mock water fight. And it only renewed the yearning within her.
“I should return to Yorkshire,” she said. “Perhaps some time away from London will help.” But it was truly time away from Matthew that she needed. She knew he had meant nothing by the water play, but being near him had brought back all her buried feelings to the surface.
“Perhaps you will come with me to Ireland instead,” Rose offered. “Iain has already gone back home to prepare for our wedding, and I’ve promised to join him soon. If you would like to stay with us, you are more than welcome.”
The offer was a kind one, but Lily was not so certain she wanted to remain in Ireland for very long. The potato famine had caused hundreds of thousands of people to starve, and she knew that it was a dangerous place with so many fighting for food.
“How bad do you think it will be at Ashton?”
“It will be difficult,” Rose said softly. “But I think it will be a challenge worth embracing. We will feed the hungry and rebuild the estate to its former splendor.”
It was then that she understood what her sister was truly offering—a chance to be useful. She could immerse herself in helping others, and that might take her mind off her broken heart.
“Do you know, I believe I would be glad to escape London for a time,” Lily agreed. “I need a means of occupying my time.”
And maybe then, her heart would learn to let go of Matthew.
Days passed, but Matthew knew better than to believe that his mind was healing. The lack of sleep had driven him to such madness that at last he’d asked his valet to buy another sleeping draught, one that was much stronger.
The dark-brown bottle was labeled as Dr. Calaban’s Sleeping Tonic. When he uncorked it, the scent reminded him of whiskey. Matthew poured a small dram into a glass, hardly caring what was in it. He drained the glass and tasted the sharp burn of alcohol. He would drink anything if it cast him into a deep sleep.
It was early in the evening, but his hands were trembling from exhaustion. During the past three nights, he’d awakened nearly every hour, his mind filled up with images of torture and pain. He needed to be unconscious, completely devoid of dreams. If a sleeping tonic would bring him some form of relief, he would welcome it.
A soft knock came at his door, and when he answered, his footman said, “I am sorry for the interruption, Lord Arnsbury, but you have a caller. Lady Lily is here.”
Matthew was surprised to hear it, and he wondered why she had come. He rose from his chair, reaching for his frock coat. “I will come downstairs in a moment.” The room appeared to sway, but he pushed back the effects of the tonic, steadying himself.
The footman inclined his head. “She awaits you in the library.”
Matthew walked down the narrow stairs, holding on to the banister for support. With each step, he felt dizziness sweeping over him. It was clear that he would not be able to spend a great deal of time visiting with Lady Lily, or else he’d end up unconscious on the carpet. A bitter taste filled his mouth, and he felt as if his body were buoyant.
He entered the library and found Lily standing beside the bookcase. She turned and said, “I. . .wanted to see if you were feeling better. It was nice to see you more like yourself the other night.”
“Each day gets easier,” he answered. Even so, he sensed there was another reason for the call. She appeared hesitant to say more, but in her eyes, he saw the concern.
“I wasn’t certain whether I should come,” she admitted. “But then, I thought you would want to know that I am leaving for Ireland to attend my sister’s wedding. I will be gone for quite a while.”
“I am glad you came to say goodbye,” he said. And he was. She could have left the country without a word, for she owed him nothing. He was glad of her company, but he hardly knew how long he could remain standing after the effects of the medicine. “Would you like tea?”
Lily shook her head. “I cannot stay for very long.”
Matthew closed the door behind him, knowing how improper this was. For a moment, he remained next to the door while his vision blurred, and he felt lightheaded. The tonic was indeed working, and he would need to say his farewell quickly.
He crossed the room to stand by her. “I am glad you are here, Lily. And I did enjoy our walk in the garden the other night.” For a moment, he regarded her, fully aware of her beauty and the faint perfume of her soap. If he were a different man, he wouldn’t have pushed her away. He might have renewed his pursuit.
“In spite of all that’s happened, I do want to remain friends.” She ventured a smile at him, though he could not return it just now.
The effects of the tonic had grown stronger, and there was now a ringing in his ears. It felt as if he were viewing Lily’s face from underwater, and the room tipped sideways. He reached for a chair, catching his balance.
“I realize I’ve not been myself since I returned.” He sensed that once she left for Ireland, nothing would be the same. He traced the outline of his signet ring upon his finger, remembering how it had hung on a chain around her throat.
Lily gripped his hands a moment, as if she were trying to hold on to the past. “I suppose I was naïve to imagine that we could continue on as we were before. Two years is a long time.”
The medicine seemed to intensify his emotions and heighten his senses. He could smell the fragrance of her hair, and the smallest details sharpened. Her hazel eyes were the deep green of summer grass, rimmed with a circle of light brown. Her mouth was the color of a rose, and memories flashed through him of the last time he had shared her bed.
“Is something wrong?” Lily asked. “You look. . . .odd somehow.”
He felt odd. He sat down upon the chaise longue and blinked, trying to clear his vision. “I took a tonic a little while ago. To help me sleep.”
Lily glanced at the doorway and came closer. “Your eyes don’t look right, Matthew. I think you should lie down before you fall over.”
It seemed as if his mind were caught in a tunnel, and his voice slurred when he spoke. “I agree.” But then his mouth continued speaking, “You could lie down with me.”
She bit back an amused smile. “I don’t think that would be proper. But this medicine does seem to put you in better spirits, doesn’t it?”
It felt as if his mind and mouth were disconnected, and he heard himself say, “Do you know how beautiful you are, Lady Lily?”
This time her smile faded. “Please don’t say that, Matthew. I need to go now.”
“Don’t go,” he murmured, reaching up to cup her cheek. She froze, and those hazel eyes turned stricken.
“Matthew, you’re not yourself.” But she didn’t pull away.
His pulse quickened, and he could feel the blood racing through his veins. He couldn’t say what possessed him at this moment, but he needed to kiss her, to taste that soft mouth. He threaded his hands through her hair, drawing her lower.
“W-what are you doing?”
“I want to remember kissing you,” he answered. And the moment his mouth touched hers, it was as if the rest of the world fell away. The deep hunger rose within him in a fierce crescendo, one he could never quench. Though he knew it was wrong to press her like this, on a deeper level, he wanted so much more.
Lily kept him at a distance, but he sensed the moment when she relaxed against him and kissed him back. This woman fit with him like no other. Her hands moved down his face to his shoulders. His shirt had come loose, and she slid her palms beneath it, pressing her hands against his bare back.
The sudden flash of memory seared him the moment she touched his scars. His mind blurred with the hazy effects of the tonic, and Lily’s face disappeared, replaced by the woman who had tortured him.
No longer did he see hazel eyes staring at him with passion. Instead, he saw a woman’s brown eyes and her mocking smile that revealed he was her prisoner. When he glanced down at the chair, he saw a wooden stool.
His arms were bound behind him with ropes that cut into his wrists. The hot desert sun burned upon his bare skin, and he wore nothing except his smallclothes.
Behind her stood a hooded man in robes. In the man’s hand, he saw a glowing red poker.
“Where are the British troops?” she demanded.
“I am not part of the army. I don’t know where they are.” He tensed as the hooded man drew closer, holding the hot poker near his face.
“You lie. My men saw you with the soldiers.” The woman nodded toward the assassin. “Start with his back,” she said. “He will tell us everything.”
Matthew struggled to free himself, but a searing pain blazed upon his shoulders. He could smell burning skin, and a hoarse cry escaped him. The poker was lifted away, but fire radiated through his scorched flesh.
“The pain will not stop until you tell us what we want to know.” Her voice was calm, and seconds later, the man laid the poker across another part of his back. Matthew flinched at the agonizing heat, trying to numb himself to the pain.
The torturer continued her questions, and he began lying even more, telling her where the British were camped, even though he had no knowledge of this. He struggled against the ropes, arching his back as the torment continued.
Abruptly, one of his bonds broke, and he lunged toward the woman, knocking her to the ground. A sudden strength filled him, and he reached for her neck, intending to snap it.
The woman screamed, fighting back against him. He gloried in the sound of vengeance, though she was twisting in his grasp. Now she would feel what had been done to him. He seized her shoulders, twisting her arm so she could not fight back.
For the first time, he was in command of her. She would never torture him again, and he would end the nightmares when he killed her.
“Matthew, please,” she begged. Her voice was not the same. He hesitated a moment, hearing the woman’s sobs. The tone of her voice was English, not that of a foreigner. And when his mind cleared away the unwanted vision, it felt as if he’d slipped outside of himself.
Lily was lying on the floor, and he was holding her down while she struggled to escape him. His vision shifted, and in horror, he saw that she was crying. He released her immediately, and she clutched her arm in pain. The skin was reddened and would undoubtedly bruise.
Dear God, what had he done?
Her tearful hazel eyes met his with fear. “Get away from me, Matthew! Don’t touch me.”
Shock and self-loathing washed over him. He had lost himself in memories of the past, and because of it, he had hurt this woman.
He’d mistakenly believed that he would never be able to harm Lily Thornton. Instead, he had fallen into a madness that proved otherwise.
Matthew sank back upon the chair, and dizziness disrupted his balance. “I’m so sorry, Lily,” he managed. But the words would not undo the damage he’d wrought.
She stumbled to her feet, protecting her arm. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she regarded him as if he were a monster.
And so he was. He couldn’t be trusted to be alone with this woman, not after this. “I’ll summon Dr. Fraser to look at your arm.” It was all he could offer. He despised himself for what had happened.
“Don’t,” she said, backing toward the library door. Her hazel eyes held only fear, and when she reached the threshold, she added, “I am leaving. And. . .I think it is best if we do not see each other again. Not for a long time.”
Matthew kept his distance from Lily, but inwardly, it felt as if his body had been immersed in ice. He was responsible for this, and she had every right to hate him.
When the door closed behind her, he sank to the floor with his knees drawn up. Although he was aware that the tonic had caused him to lose sight of reality, the fault lay with him. He had known it would be hard to live an ordinary life once again, but he’d never imagined he would turn violent.
He reached down and unlaced his shoes, drawing them off, then his socks, until his feet were bare. With trembling fingers, he touched the sole of his left foot. The scars were red, the deep grooves carved into his heel. There was no sensation at all in his foot when he touched the skin.
Matthew stared at the rows of books, neatly aligned with their spines perfectly level. For weeks now, he had wanted a normal existence, one where he could eat, sleep, and exist as any other man.
But if he couldn’t even tell the difference between dreams and reality, how could he ever go back to the life he’d known before?
Her maid, Hattie, fussed over Lily in the carriage as soon as she saw her. “What’s happened, my lady? Your arm, it’s—”
“Take me to see Dr. Fraser,” she ordered the driver. Her arm had swollen up dreadfully, and she was in so much pain, she gasped when she climbed inside the carriage.
“It was an accident,” she told Hattie. “I slipped and fell.”
But the moment the carriage began rolling across the city streets, every jostle intensified the agony. Matthew’s eyes had been pinpricks, and he hadn’t heard a word she’d spoken. He had been so lost in his nightmares, he’d believed she was somehow his torturer.
The pain sharpened her sense of reason, for Lily now understood what he’d been trying to tell her. The years in India had changed him into a broken man who was incapable of being her husband.
Tears rimmed her eyes, but they were as much from her wounded heart as her arm. She let them fall silently, weeping for the lost man she had loved. Until today, she had believed that his tormented mind could be healed, but now, he frightened her.
The carriage arrived at Lord Falsham’s townhouse. Dr. Fraser and his wife, Juliette, had always been kind to her, and she trusted him to help mend her arm.
Her footman opened the door for her and helped her out of the carriage while she cradled her arm. The pain was a constant throbbing, and she was barely conscious of being escorted up the stairs. She prayed that Dr. Fraser was at home to help her.
Thankfully, it took only moments for his servants to lead her to a private room where she met his wife. Lady Falsham gave orders for the servants to bring her tea, and she assured Lily, “We will give you medicine to take away the pain while Paul looks at your arm. How did this happen?”
She hesitated, not knowing whether to speak the truth. But then, Juliette had seen her godson upon his return from India. His mental condition was no secret to her, and Lily confessed, “Matthew became lost in a nightmare. He thought I was one of his torturers, and he pushed me to the ground and fell on top of me. My elbow twisted beneath me.”
The woman inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. “I am so very sorry, Lily. We knew he was still having. . .difficult spells, but I never in my wildest dreams thought he could ever hurt you.”
Juliette’s compassion made it impossible to keep her composure. Lily’s emotions crumpled, and she wept—not from the pain, but from the realization that she could not break through the barrier between them. Matthew had continually pushed her away, rejecting her friendship and desire to help him. And now she understood why. Though she’d never believed his hallucinations would cause him to hurt her, she had no choice but to accept it now.
When Dr. Fraser arrived with his bag, Juliette explained to her husband what had happened to Lily. His face held sympathy when he regarded her. “I am sorry this happened, lass, but I canna say that I’m verra surprised. Lord Arnsbury has endured more torment than most men, and it’s his mind that suffers now. I’d wager he knew nothing of what he was doing.”
Lily tried to gather herself while Dr. Fraser pulled up a chair and examined her arm. “H-he didn’t know. He said he’d taken a sleeping tonic.”
“Not one I gave him, I should think.” Dr. Fraser put gentle pressure against her arm, and Lily couldn’t help but yelp when he touched the swollen place. “Sorry, lass. It’s no’ broken, but he might have dislocated it when he fell on you.”
He nodded to Juliette. “Darling, give her a bit of laudanum in her tea. She’ll not be wanting to feel very much when I mend this.”
Juliette reached for a small bottle and added a few drops to the tea. “Paul is a very good physician, and he’ll fix your elbow for you. I’ve seen far worse. You can look away if it hurts too much.”
She wasn’t certain if she wanted to, but Lady Falsham insisted that she drink the tea to help relax her muscles. The laudanum did make her head feel muzzy, and after a little while, Lily was less concerned about the pain. She found it was rather interesting to watch as he adjusted the position of her arm. A little twist here, a bend there, and the pain was suddenly easier to endure.
“Keep it in a splint for a day or two to be sure it doesn’t slip out of place again,” the doctor advised. “The swelling will go down soon enough.” The splints held her arm in the proper place, and he wrapped it tightly in bandages to secure it.
“How long did it take you to learn all of this?” she asked Dr. Fraser.
“Years of study, lass. I went to medical school in Edinburgh, and I’ve been practicing medicine all my life. Even though I inherited my uncle’s title afterward, I still prefer to be known as Dr. Fraser, rather than Lord Falsham.”
Lily was intrigued by how much he’d had to learn in school, and yet, she imagined how fulfilling it must be to heal others. She had never known any woman to study medicine, and undoubtedly it would not be allowed. The musings helped to distract her from her injured arm.
“Do you have any books I might borrow?” she asked. “I would like to know more about healing. That is, perhaps cures for household ailments or injuries.”
He exchanged a glance with his wife. “If you want to read about it, I’ve no objection.” Then his expression turned serious. “But the cure for Lord Arnsbury is no’ one you’ll find in books. You canna splint his broken mind or wrap it in bandages.”
“This is not for Matthew. This is for me, so that I can find something to occupy my time. I’ve spent far too much of my life pining away.”
Juliette sent a silent message toward her husband and then interjected, “Why don’t you come and pay a call again when you’re feeling better? Perhaps Paul could show you some poultices and medicines that might interest you.” She smiled and then ran her fingers along a row of books resting on a shelf on the side wall of the room. “Or this might also occupy your time.” She handed Lily a green leather book titled The Pharmacopoeia of the Royal College of Physicians of London. “It may not be very interesting.”
But Lily found herself intrigued by the challenge. “Thank you, Lord and Lady Falsham.”
More than anything, she needed a distraction from Matthew. Though she knew he had not intended to hurt her, it broke her heart to think of how much he’d suffered. Deep inside, she was grieving for the husband she had loved and lost.
If losing herself in books would ease the gaping emptiness, she would read the dictionary itself. But perhaps the medical book might offer an escape, a chance to learn about something else that could help others.
She held the book in her lap while Lord Falsham fashioned a sling for her arm. “It will take a few weeks for this to heal properly,” he told her. “Come back to me after you’ve returned from Ireland, and I’ll see how it’s healing.”
She thanked him again for his help, and he gave her a packet of powdered medicine to take with a cup of tea at night to help her sleep.
“Lady Lily,” he said, as she stood to leave. “I will look in on Lord Arnsbury and find out what’s happened to him. Some medicines have a verra powerful effect upon the mind.”
She nodded, holding on to the book. But as she departed the house, she promised herself that she would no longer hold on to the past—instead, she would look toward a different future.