Chapter Twenty-Eight − To London
Still worried about Meagan and the children, Derek headed home when darkness began to fall. As much as he cared for her, he hated her stubborn pride. Everything would be so much easier if she simply were to accept his help.
Would you? An annoyingly familiar voice whispered.
Sighing, Derek shook his head. Then he looked up, a frown drawing down his brows as his gaze fell on the darkened house, and he could not help but wonder why most of the rooms seemed dark from the outside. Even the kitchen only seemed to hold a soft glow. Where was his mother? Was she not preparing supper?
Stepping inside, his anxiety grew as he walked from room to room, only to find them empty. “Mother? Kara?” he called, heading up the stairs, his gaze narrowed as he searched his surroundings.
“There ye are,” his mother said from the landing.
“What’s going on? Why is it so dark everywhere?” Again, Derek glanced around. “Where is Madeline? And Kara and Sean?” Looking back at his mother, he noticed the strain that hung on her features, and his heart clenched painfully. “Tell me what happened.”
After taking a deep breath, his mother said, “Collin has fallen ill.”
Watching his mother carefully, Derek knew that she was not referring to a common cold. No, this was serious. Whatever was wrong with Collin, it was life-threatening. “I’ll go for the doctor,” he said, turning on his heel and hastening down the stairs.
“Your wife already has.”
Freezing in his step, his hand on the door handle, Derek closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. Then he turned around to face his mother, the expression in her eyes one of curious anticipation. “She has done what?” he asked as fear clawed at his heart. “Where is she?”
His mother exhaled a long breath. “On the road to London.”
Cursing under his breath, Derek felt his hands ball into fists, and he desperately fought the urge to put them through the wall behind him. “Why did you let her go?” he demanded, focusing on anger rather than the fear that threatened to rob him of his sanity. “Why didn’t you hold her back?”
“Because she was determined,” his mother replied as she walked down the stairs toward him, her gaze fixed on his.
Derek shook his head. “You shouldn’t have,” he growled, his jaw clenching painfully. “How could you let her go? What if…something happens to her. Did you ever stop to think−?”
“I did!” his mother snapped, her eyes hard as she looked at him. “So, did she, but she had to go.”
“Why?” Derek demanded, feeling as though the walls were closing in on him. He could count on one hand how often he had been frightened out of his mind.
“For the same reason, ye offered to go the moment ye heard of the danger to Collin’s life,” his mother said, her voice calm as she held his gaze. “Because she loves him.”
Derek drew in a long breath, knowing only too well the powerful desire to protect the ones one loved. His wife had not hesitated to offer her assistance to save Collin, and he would not hesitate to follow in her footsteps…to protect her.
Once more he turned to the door, and once more his mother spoke up. “Ye need to let her do this, son,” she counselled, her voice calm and imploring, and yet, he could still hear the fear that laced every word. “I know ye’re afraid for her like I was afraid for ye when ye went off to fight. But I had to let ye go, and now, so do ye. Have faith in her. Allow her to do this.”
Derek swallowed, resting his forehead against the door. “What if something happens to her?” he whispered into the dark of the hall. “I don’t think I could bear losing her. Not now. Not like this. Not…ever.”
Behind him, his mother inhaled deeply, and for a moment, Derek thought he could hear her smile. “Ye love her,” she finally said. “Have ye told her yet?”
Turning around, Derek met his mother’s gaze. Then he shook his head.
A teasing smile drew up the corners of her mouth. “Aren’t ye sorry now that ye didn’t?”
Gritting his teeth, Derek swallowed. Then he shook his head. “I cannot simply let her go,” he finally said, once again reaching for the door handle. “I know how capable she is, but I also know that sometimes that is not enough. And I’m not ready to lose her.” Then he yanked open the door and rushed out into the cold night air.
Just as the last rays of the sun disappeared on the horizon, he reached the stable and darted down the aisle toward Arion’s box. Reaching for the bridle, he turned toward his trusted steed…only to find his box empty.
For a moment, Derek simply stared before he slapped his hand to his forehead, cursing under his breath. “Blasted woman!” And yet, he understood why she had taken Arion. Of course, she had. It was the most reasonable thing to do. However, it left him at a significant disadvantage. How was he to follow her now?
Turning around, his gaze fell on Milly and her little filly before shifting to the only other horse in the stable. Brutus was a mud-brown gelding of rather advanced age. He was sturdy and reliable, strong even now in his old days. However, he had never been fast.
Still, Derek did not have a choice.
Saddling old Brutus, he led the farm horse out of the stable and down the road toward London, hoping that his wife would not get lost on the way, that she would not encounter less than honourable people, and that he would be able to pull her into his arms soon enough.
After all, his mother was right. He did regret that he had not confessed his love to her yet. What if he never was to see her again? What if he had lost his chance?
That thought terrified him to his core, and he spurred Brutus to greater speed.
***
Leaving behind the dark countryside, only illuminated by a blanket of stars and the smallest sliver of a moon she had ever seen, Madeline rejoiced when her gaze fell on the London skyline.
She had made it.
Although at one point she had been uncertain about the right direction, nothing had happened on the road. The air was cold but dry, the roads passable and empty. She had not encountered a single soul on her way, and for that she was grateful.
Urging Arion on, she guided the gelding through the streets of the large town toward her father’s townhouse. Although most of the ton had retreated to the country, Madeline knew that her father, like many other families, always maintained a minimum staff at his townhouse to keep everything in order and spotless.
Still, when she slid off the gelding’s back after hours in the saddle and glanced up at the sky, noting the many colours that now streaked from horizon to horizon as morning dawned, Madeline had to wake the stable hands as−naturally−her arrival was not expected. Instructing them to take care of Arion and prepare the fastest carriage, she then turned to a stable boy, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he stifled a yawn, trying his best to pay attention. “Run to Dr. Rosen’s house and wake him,” she said, holding the boy’s gaze to ensure that he was listening. “Tell him it’s an emergency, and I need him to accompany me out of town within the hour. Go!”
As the boy darted off, the cold morning air waking him up fully, Madeline hurried into the house. After ringing for tea to warm her chilled limbs, she bid the housekeeper to pack some food and have it brought out to the carriage. Then she hurried to her room and retrieved a small purse where she kept some money in case she should ever have need of it.
Never in her wildest dreams would such an emergency have occurred to her though.
When everything was prepared, Madeline got into the carriage and instructed the coachman to take her to Dr. Rosen’s house. Once there, she hurried up the steps to the front door where the stable boy sat waiting.
Seeing her, he jumped to his feet. “He says he do not want to go. He says I was lyin’.”
Madeline grumbled under her breath, quickly patting the boy’s head. Then raised her hand and knocked on the door.
After a moment, the door swung open and a middle-aged, rather round, man appeared in the doorway. “Did I not tell you to g−?” The words froze on his lips as his gaze took in Madeline as well as the angry scowl on her face. “My lady, I…I did not think−”
“It doesn’t matter,” Madeline interrupted. “Pack your bag. There’s a little boy who needs your help.”
Staring at her for another seemingly endless moment, Dr. Rosen nodded, his face slightly flushed. “Certainly, my lady.” Then he hurried into the house.
From the doorway, Madeline could see him stuffing different vials and pouches into a black leather bag. “What are the symptoms?” he asked over his shoulder, his eyes shifting over a large shelf filled with countless bottles and vials.
Swallowing, Madeline tried her best to recall, afraid that she would fail to mention something and then Dr. Rosen would not think to bring the one thing that might save Collin’s life. “It began with a cold. While his mother recovered, he continued to be weak. He barely ate. “An image of Collin merely picking at his food drifted before her eyes. “He continued to cough, and last night, he collapsed. He is pale and sweaty. His breathing is…fast. Very fast. And yet, he is so still.” Tears began to brim in her eyes, and she swallowed hard to force them back.
“Sounds like pneumonia,” Dr. Rosen commented, shoving another few pouches in his bag before hastening toward her. “We need to hurry.”
Cold fear gripped Madeline’s heart at the doctor’s words, but again, she shoved them away and led the man to the carriage. As Dr. Rosen stepped inside, she told the coachman to go as fast as he dared without overturning the carriage. Then she took her seat, praying that the journey back would go as smoothly as the way to London.
Forcing herself to remain calm, Madeline stared out the window as the day slowly awakened. After a night spent in the saddle, her limbs and mind alert, the inactivity of simply sitting in a carriage and not having anything to do nearly drove her mad. “How bad is pneumonia? Can you heal him?” she asked Dr. Rosen, not because she wanted to know−in fact, she was terrified of the answer−but because she could no longer bear the silence.
Startled awake, Dr. Rosen rubbed his face, then squinted his eyes against the sun streaming into the carriage, his gaze momentarily disoriented. Then his eyes met hers, and she could see his memory returning. Clearing his throat, the old man straightened in his seat. “I hope so,” he replied, seeing the strain on her face. “However, I must warn you that it might work fast in a young child. How old is he?”
“Three,” Madeline whispered, picturing Collin’s little face. “He’s three.”
Dr. Rosen nodded, his jaw tensing. “I see.” He took a deep breath. “Well, I will do what I can. There have been a few new approaches in medicine these past few years. I only hope that the boy’s family,” Dr. Rosen’s voice rose in question as Madeline still had not informed him of her relation to the sick child, “is not clinging to old misconceptions.”
Madeline frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Without educated medical advice,” Dr. Rosen said, sighing, “many people go by sayings such as ‘Feed a cold, starve a fever’, which, of course, are ludicrous. I hope the boy has not grown too weak by being restricted to stale bread and water.”
Madeline shook her head, remembering Bessy’s dedicated cooking. “He has not. However, he has shown little appetite lately. He−”
“My lady, there’s a rider approaching!” The coachman called from the box.
Glancing out the window, Madeline noticed that they were not slowing down, grateful that the man was heeding her instructions so diligently. “Where?” Madeline called back when she could not make out anyone approaching from behind them.
“Up ahead.”
Turning her head, Madeline leaned out the window…and the breath caught in her throat.
Although he was still a small distance away, she would have recognised him anywhere.
Her husband.
Swallowing, Madeline felt her heart do a little jump as she looked closer, taking note of his tense posture as well as the storm cloud that seemed to hang over his head. The horse she recognised as old Brutus, surprised that the old farm horse had made it that far as well as that her husband had taken him in the first place.
You didn’t leave him a choice, a small voice in the back of her head reminded her.
“I never thought he would follow me,” Madeline whispered, a touch of awe in her voice as she watched her husband approach.
“Who is it?” Dr. Rosen asked, concern in his voice.
“Do not worry, Doctor,” Madeline replied, a soft smile coming to her face as she all but glanced at the man sitting across from her. “It’s my husband.”
Pulling up Brutus, her husband turned the old horse around as the carriage approached, then urged him on to keep up. His gaze slid from her father’s crest on the door upward and met her eyes. As their gazes locked, her husband inhaled a relieved breath and for a moment closed his eyes, all the tension falling from his face.
Stunned into speechlessness, Madeline stared at him, unable to believe the depth of his emotions as he found her unharmed and well. Certainly, she had been worried, and so must he have been. However, after everything she had witnessed the day before, she had not allowed herself to hope that her departure would affect him thus.
But it had, and Madeline could not deny that it warmed her heart in the most wonderful way.