His Shadowed Heart ((Books We Love Regency Romance)) (13 page)

“None, until we know tomorrow’s outcome. I will return and we shall see what has to be done. Until then, it’s best that he should remain sedated. Even so, I cannot guarantee the outcome. You must be prepared for the worst.”

With this, the doctor departed
, leaving Caroline to return to the patient, a patient who at that precise moment lay unconscious with the draught the doctor had administered. The dog came hesitantly forward, ears back and tail tentatively wagging and she laid her hand on its head. “You are the cause of this,” she chided softly, looking into the beseeching eyes. “I suppose we must make arrangements for you also.” She smiled as the dog crawled under the bed and lay with head on paws looking up at her. “I can see you have decided where you are to stay, but perhaps a visit to the kitchen is what is needed. We must put some flesh on you if you are to remain. I cannot tolerate that starved look.” Turning, she called the dog to heel and made toward the door and thence the kitchen where he was to be fed.

*****

When Caroline descended from her bedchamber the following morning, it was to find Dr. North already installed in the garden room, his patient scowling heavily at his ministrations but uttering no sound as he removed the dressings from the wound.

“The leg fares better than I had expected,” stated the doctor on
her arrival, “though it is not certain that I can save it. The wound is still very aggressive and will need much attention.”

“I will not
lose the leg,” stated Peter with some force, as he attempted to pull himself to a sitting position. “It will heal—there is no need to remove it.”

Caroline came quickly forward to lay a calming hand on his shoulder and push him back onto the pillows. “If it is within his power, the doctor will save it,” she assured. “For now though, it is wise to tend to what he says and be calm. It will not help if you become agitated.”

Caroline accompanied the doctor into the hallway as he prepared to take his leave.

“I will come again this evening and, if the inflammation lessons, I will set the bone,” said Dr
. North. “I dare not attempt it now, as with the swelling it is deceptive. I take it the trap was not set on your land, my lady?”

“Certainly not! We do not employ such methods to deter poachers. We have keepers enough, and such methods are outdated and inhumane. I believe it to have been set on Lord Melchin’s land.”

“Then it appears I must visit His Lordship. Such practices will not be tolerated. I wish you good day Your Ladyship.”

*****

“Whose night-shirt is this?” demanded Peter on her return, looking down at the fine linen garment into which he had been placed the previous day.

“My husband’s
,” she replied, drawing a chair up to his side. “Indeed, when you are able to leave your bed, there are other clothes of his you might have, even though they may be a little large.”

“Did he put me into it?”

“He is not at home.”

“Then it was you?” he asked uncomfortably.

She chuckled, realizing his embarrassment. “Certainly not! ’Twas one of the grooms who carried you to the house yesterday and waited upon you whilst you were unconscious.”

Relieved he lay back, his face almost immediately contorting in pain and once more, she was on her feet and reaching for the doctor’s draught, but he pushed it aside.

“I would prefer to stay awake whilst you are with me, m’lady,” he said gruffly. “I will take the draught later.”

“I will assign one of the servants to wait on you,” she said, preparing to leave. “He can attend to your needs.”

“Will you not stay a little while?” he pleaded, dreading her desertion. “I feel so much better when you are with me.”

“Would you wish me to read to you?” she asked kindly, seeing his discomfort and hoping to divert his thoughts. “Perhaps it would soothe you a little.”

He nodded his agreement, unable for that moment to speak, so intense was the pain.

She read the poems of Lord Byron, but it mattered not what she read, just the sound of her voice washing over him was all that he needed. As she read, the dog crawled from beneath the bed where he had lain unnoticed all morning and came to sit at her side, resting his head on her lap. Seeing him, Peter reached out his hand to stroke him.

“What will you call him?” she enquired.

“Dog,” he replied in some surprise. “What else should I call him?”

“You will give him no name?

“Aye, Dog!”

So Dog it became and by degrees it was seen that he gained flesh as did his new master who, by the mere excellence of care he received, against all odds, retained his leg. Crutches were fashioned and, clad in the earl’s shirt and breeches, he was allowed to leave his bed, Dog being his constant companion. No mention had been made of the future. He dare not think beyond each day, fearful of the time, which would surely come, when he must leave. He had never seen the earl and it was therefore easy to dismiss him from his thoughts, even Julia did not bear witness to his existence, and he found it easy to ignore the fact of his reality. Caroline became his idol, his reason for being, and he lived only for her visits. With each passing day, his devotion for her grew and his previous life retreated further into the past as thoughts of her filled his every hour. He remembered not his family or any time when he had not fought for survival. His entire life seemed nothing but lone endurance and she now became the light of his existence.

Had she been aware of this idolatry, she would have been alarmed, for she saw him as nothing but a soul who needed her support and this is how she mentioned him in her letters to her husband. For mention him she did, presenting him as a youth in need, assured that her husband would not object to her acting as benefactress. She did not see the dark-haired young man with startling good looks he had become
, dressed in her husband’s clothes, nor did she see that his eyes ever followed her; otherwise, she would have felt no ease in his company for her thoughts remained as always with the earl.

*****

Impatiently, the Earl of Waverly paced the confines of his study and listened to the speech prepared by his secretary. “Yes, yes, it will do,” he said shortly, cutting across John Eaton’s words. “I know not how much longer this damned debate is to last, but it seems no nearer to its conclusion. No progress whatsoever is being made. One would have thought the deployment of troops in the Peninsular too advanced to excite opposition but there are still those who would argue. I am out of patients with the whole. Even those at the Ministry who are well aware of the dichotomies of war appear no nearer to resolving the matter.”

“Would you prefer that I should make your excuses, sir?” enquired Eaton
, putting aside the speech.

“No, no, I must attend,” replied the earl with some resignation. “Though God knows, I wish myself elsewhere.”

“You wish yourself at Lordings, my lord?”

“That I do
—though when I will be able to make the journey I know not. My departure has been delayed beyond all expectations and I find it insupportable.” With every passing day, he deeply regretted his wife’s absence and his desire to join her at his country seat grew to invade not only his waking, but also his sleeping hours,

A discreet tap came on the door and a footman entered to announce Lady Victoria, who followed immediately in his wake.

“Richard, how much longer am I to see you here,” she demanded, extending her hand to receive his salute. “I would have thought you to be eager to go to Lordings. You can’t leave your young bride alone too long, she will become bored without your company.”

The earl smiled ruefully. “As always Victoria, you come straight to the point.”

“I don’t believe in prevarication as you know,” she smiled, nodding a brief greeting to Eaton who, bowing, hastily left the room not wishing to intrude.

“And where is Henry? Does he not bear you company to beard me in my den?”

“Henry is most disobliging and has left for the races. He will be gone for at least three days and I am once more left to my own devices.”

“And you thought you would come to tease me to relieve your boredom? Most sisterly!”

“Don’t be so uncharitable, Richard,” she snapped. “You must know it is nothing of the kind, but the thought did occur to me that, with a little persuasion, I might induce you to accompany me to a select little card party at Maria Radleigh’s this evening. I succumb to ennui left to my own devices and it would be so pleasant to have your company. Indeed, you may even enjoy the outing.”

The earl frowned. “I have no time for card parties
, they hold no interest for me.”

“There is bound to be other entertainment for those not wishing to play,” she said, determined not to be dissuaded from her purpose. “It will take your mind off other matters, I am sure. Caroline would not wish you to be dull.”

“I am anything but dull, my dear Victoria….”

“Of course, you have your meetings at the Ministry and your speeches in the House
—what other diversion could you desire?” she scoffed. “I see you must be greatly entertained in your solitude.”

“Oh, very well,” he conceded with ill grace. “I will squire you to your card party, but I warn you, it will not become a regular occurrence. As soon as I am able, I go to Lordings. Let your Henry dance attendance on you, I am not your husband.”

She smiled, knowing a moment of triumph. “Thank you, Richard. I knew you would not be so poor-spirited as to deny me an outing.”

“Humph,” he replied. “As always, dear sister, it appears I have no say in the matter.”

*****

The voices in the card room never rose above a pleasant hum as each player concentrated on their game. Wishing not to appear churlish, the earl partnered Lady Victoria for several hands before finally retiring to one of the other salons where refreshments were being served. As he entered the room, Sir Robert Fenton hailed him and invited him to join his company and he crossed the room to their table. It was not until he had taken his seat that he noticed that Gerald Dent and Lord Massey were of the party and he nodded curtly in their direction before turning his attentions to a vivacious brunet
te at his side and complementing her on her husband’s performance in the House.

D
ent turned to Lord Massey, his countenance showing his ill-concealed displeasure at finding his cousin to be joining the group. “I had not anticipated seeing Waverly this evening, else I would not have accepted the invitation,” he complained waspishly. “It gives me no pleasure whatsoever to be seen in his company.”

“From the scowl on you
r countenance that is quite evident,” sneered Massey, “but you are foolish to lay yourself open to censure. At least in company, you should temper your animosity toward him as do I.”

“
My reason for hating Waverly is easy enough to understand,” returned Dent spitefully. “One needs only to be aware of our connection—but I have never known the reason for your abhorrence. Why should you wish his downfall?”

“There is an issue between us that he is not even aware of,” said Massey, draining his glass and laying it with unnecessary care on the table. “However, I feel not the need to make it a matter for public comment as you so obviously do. Nonetheless, it is an issue that must be resolved, and unless I am much mistaken, in the not too distant future.”

“Won’t you confide it to me?” asked Dent curiously, “so that I may share in your victory?”

“There will be no need to confide in you,” smirked Massey. “My retribution will be plain for all to see when it becomes common knowledge. Then you will see how thorough my revenge is.”

“I’ve guessed it, I’m sure,” Dent cried with much enthusiasm. “It is connected to Christina. Don’t tell me she is still in love with the man?”

“Certainly not! Never was. You have completely the wrong of it. It’s useless for you to try to speculate, ’tis something even you will not guess. You will be surprised, as will many others—quite surprised.”

“Then it will be an event that I shall anticipate with great pleasure and I am sure to enjoy enormously.”

“Of that you can be quite certain
—it will be poetic justice at its height.”

Emboldened by the conversation and unable to resist the temptation to publicly deride his cousin, Dent rose to follow the earl when he finally forsook the company to return to Lady Victoria
, who was engaged in a game of Silver Loo. His Lordship stood watching the game from behind her chair and turned only briefly as Dent came to his side.

“So, dear cousin, your young wife finds it necessary to remove herself to Lordings,” Dent sneered, noting with some satisfaction that members of the company turned at his words.

“Whatever my wife finds it necessary to do is no concern of yours, cousin,” returned the earl coldly, not taking his eyes from the game.

Dissatisfied with his cousin’s response, Dent felt compelled to continue, “Does it not seem strange that you are so short a time wed and you find it desirable to remain in the city to enjoy its attractions whilst she returns to the country? Perhaps she grows tired of you, Waverly, and who can blame her, foreswear she has every reason to grow weary of your company. Perhaps it is the information of your liaison with a certain lady that necessitates her removal.”