Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Edward
Lady Paxton had always been the epitome of genteel grace and decorum in my presence, but the sight of her daughter, soaked through with rain, her face a pale color that reflected the icy temperature of her skin, brought the viscountess to near hysterics.
Relief that Annette had been found warred with the new concerns of sickness. Concerns I understood all too well.
“We should get her upstairs,” said Jack, who showed far more comportment than his mother, though there was no mistaking the worry in his knitted brows. “Someone must send for the doctor as well.”
“Your brother is on his way there now.” I shifted, adjusting my hold on Annette. “Your son is right. We should get her comfortable before the doctor arrives.”
“Yes,” said Lady Paxton, seeming to shake out of her hysteria somewhat now that she had a plan to focus on. “Yes, of course. Come, you must grow weary of holding her. Can you manage the stairs?”
“Well enough.” My muscles were beginning to strain, but I had no desire to pass off the responsibility to anyone else.
I carried Annette up the central staircase behind Lady Paxton and followed her to the family wing.
She directed me to place Annette in her bed and then stood at the entry, frantically shouting for one of the servants to draw up a warm bath.
I slid my arm from beneath Annette’s legs and rested her head against the pillow, willing her to open her eyes.
I needed to see those blue depths. I needed reassurance that all would come about. That she would be well.
It was a selfish thing to desire the alleviation of my worries when she lay so still, having been through such an ordeal, but I found my feet rooted in place at her bedside. Hoping. Praying.
I gathered her cold hand in mine and brought it to my lips, the buzz of activity around me muffled into almost nonexistence. I could not lose this woman. Every moment she did not stir, every second I did not see those eyes staring up at me, confirmed what I had so long left unacknowledged.
I loved her.
It seemed so obvious now. Even in London, I had lain awake at night, distracted by memories and looking forward to when I would see her again.
Distracted by hopes of pulling a reluctant smile to her lips or being the cause of her laughter.
Because even then, despite how much my soul ached to right the injustices of the past and save my friend, I had needed Annette to calm the raging sea within me.
She wasn’t a distraction, but a lighthouse in the storm.
A port for a ship searching for a safe harbor.
A hand settled on my shoulder, startling me. Lady Paxton, her eyes rimmed with red, still managed to offer me a look of sympathy. She was no longer sobbing, having reclaimed most of her composure, but worry etched her brow.
“Forgive me,” said Lady Paxton. “You have all of my gratitude, Lieutenant, but I must ask you to leave.”
When my brows furrowed, she gestured to the bath currently being filled with steaming water. Warming Annette was important, but knowing that did little to cure my reluctance to leave her side.
“Yes, of course. I just…” I cradled Annette’s hand a moment longer before releasing it, but still, I could not move.
What if she awoke and demanded my departure?
What if, despite the way she had said my name and snuggled against me to stay warm, she could not forgive me?
This could well be my last moments with her, and I was loath to abandon them.
Lady Paxton smiled slightly, seeming to understand my reluctance to some degree. “Take a moment while we finish.”
I nodded, and she left me to continue instructing the servants. I retrieved Annette’s cold hand once more and caressed it with my thumb.
“Promise.”
Annette’s weak voice drew my attention to her face, and I found her looking at me, the typical light absent from her blue eyes. Relief flooded through me all the same. Just seeing them at all eased my trepidation.
“Annette.” I sat down on the edge of the bed, bringing myself closer to her.
“Promise,” she repeated, this time her voice firmer. “You won’t leave.”
She wanted me to stay. My soul rose as if tied to a buoy.
“I promise not to leave until you ask it of me.” My response was raspy with the emotion I struggled to contain.
Annette smiled weakly, giving my hand a light squeeze. “Careful, Lieutenant. That kind of promise might keep you with me forever.” A hard shiver wracked her body, and she closed her eyes.
I brushed the wet hair from her face, then leaned forward to whisper so only she could hear. “I would not object to forever.”
I had made a promise to Annette and intended to keep it.
If that meant sitting on the floor outside her room, having been kicked out of the space some time ago, then I would do so.
I sat with my back against the wall, doing my best not to withdraw my pocket watch from the confines of my coat yet again.
The doctor had arrived nearly half an hour ago, and my mind had not settled since.
What was taking so long? Did the man’s prolonged presence mean Annette was unwell? What would I do if she took ill and—
I smacked my head against the wall, jarring the thought to a halt. Pain ripped through my skull, but I preferred it to the dark hole my mind wandered toward. I would not entertain such possibilities. I could not.
“You know, it would not hurt you to go change.”
I glanced down the corridor to see Apsley approaching.
His voice was light, but his expression somber.
I had not seen him since we parted ways at the ruins.
He appeared to have changed into dry clothing after fetching the doctor, something I had neglected to do.
My body hated me for it, too. A castle could be quite drafty, and when one’s clothing was soaked…
Well, I had shivered a time or two since sitting down.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said once he had stopped in front of me.
Apsley folded his arms. “Even if the doctor removes from her room soon, you will not be permitted to re-enter. It is wildly inappropriate. I shan’t allow it.”
I glared at him. “Is this your way of punishing me for agreeing to your father’s schemes? Because I assure you, the guilt I already bear is more than enough to haunt me the rest of my days.”
“Good. Guilt often keeps a person from making the same mistake twice.”
I scoffed, though he was not entirely wrong. If Annette decided to forgive me—and her last words before I left the room hinted she just might—then I would do everything in my power to treat her with the respect and deference she deserved.
“Go and change,” he said, his tone much softer. “It would not do for you to take ill. Besides, you and I have some things to discuss.”
I studied him for a moment before heaving a sigh and pushing myself to my feet. Before I could leave, the door swung open, and the doctor emerged, his expression unreadable.
“How is she?” Apsley and I both asked at the same time.
Apsley caught my eye, and his lips twitched.
“She is well, all things considered,” said the doctor.
“Her ankle is quite swollen, though I do not think it is broken. It is best she stays off of it for a sennight, at least. She has contracted a light fever. As of now, it is not worrisome, but she will need to be watched through the night to make sure it does not progress. Beyond that, I suggest she get ample rest.”
“Thank you, doctor,” said Apsley.
The man nodded. “Of course, sir. I shall return in the morning to check on her, but do not hesitate to send for me should you find yourself in need.”
Apsley dipped his head with gratitude, and the doctor bowed before leaving the two of us alone in the corridor.
“There, you see?” said Apsley. “Annette needs to rest. Which gives you time to change and have a discussion with me.”
“Very well, then. I suppose I cannot do anything for her here. She made me promise not to leave. So, I hope this discussion does not conclude with you throwing me from Kenwick indefinitely. Your sister would be enraged.”
Apsley laughed as we made our way toward the stairs. “Is that how you mean to convince me to let you stay? Threaten me with my sister’s ire.”
“I would not wish to stoop to such a level, but if I must…” I shrugged. “A promise is a promise, and I’ve no intention of incurring her anger against me.”
We stopped at the head of the stairs. Apsley was grinning, and it relieved me to see that the camaraderie between us had returned.
“As it was you who found her, I could not banish you from Kenwick. I owe you my thanks.” He pointed at me, his brows drawn.
“If you break her heart again, there shall be repercussions. But go change. I will meet you in the library. We can discuss this more once you are dry. I’ve had your things placed back in your chamber. ”
I thanked him and returned to the room I had called mine for some weeks now.
My travel valise was waiting for me, and I quickly changed into dry clothes before descending the stairs and making my way to the library.
Apsley stood next to the glowing hearth, and I wondered if he felt as chilled as I did.
He had been out searching for Annette for much longer.
“Ah, there you are,” he said as I approached. He handed me a glass of brandy, which I drank greedily from, allowing the liquid to burn my insides in the most welcome way.
“What did you wish to discuss?” When he shot me a pointed look, I added, “What specifically about your sister?”
“I told you before that I understood your intentions were good, but I cannot give you my blessing to marry her without knowing with surety that this is not about the money. Before we discovered Annette was missing, I had a conversation with my father. He was…repentant, I think, and assured me he only offered you funds because he believed you were already half in love with her.” He paused to take a drink. “Was he wrong?”