Chapter Nineteen
L ily left Matthew’s side after the waltz, feeling slightly out of breath. He had promised to fetch her a glass of lemonade while she went to see about Sarah Carlisle. The older woman had chosen a chair on the far end of the room, and another gentleman with gray hair was standing near her, leaning on his cane. Sarah’s face was flushed, and Lily hid her smile, wondering if she had indeed found a suitor.
Just as she was about to approach, she overheard two men arguing. “I don’t think it’s true,” the gentleman said. “We’ve known Arnsbury all his life. And Adrian Monroe is stirring up trouble for his own benefit.”
Lily paused, her heartbeat quickening. She wanted to believe that Sarah Carlisle had done what she could to dispel the gossip—but no one could know for certain.
She was about to approach the older woman, when she heard a female voice calling out to her. “Lady Lily?”
Lily turned and saw a beautiful woman with dark hair and skin the color of rich caramel. Her features held an exotic cast, as if she had been born in India, and she wore a dove-colored ballgown with two flounces. A warm smile curved over the woman’s face.
“I do not believe we have met,” Lily said. She felt a sudden uneasiness, though she masked her feelings.
“No, I have not had the pleasure. I am Priya Shavanastu.” With a nod in the other direction, she added, “I am the guest of Mr. Monroe.”
I am certain you are, Lily thought. She had no notion of what Adrian’s intentions were, but if he had brought this woman from India, it could not be good. Whether this woman had any connection to Matthew hardly mattered at all—Adrian was attempting to dredge up terrible memories. And Lily intended to shield the man she loved from his cousin’s animosity.
“Forgive me for interrupting you,” Miss Shavanastu continued, “but I have been wanting to speak with Lord Arnsbury. Mr. Monroe thought he would not be far from your side.”
“He may return shortly,” Lily answered. Although she gave the appearance of serenity, inside, her stomach was churning. If Matthew saw this woman, it might bring back all the torment of India. And she would never allow that.
She took the woman’s arm with the pretense of walking with her. “Forgive me, but how do you know the earl? Did you meet him during his travels in India?” She kept her tone light, as if she were discussing the weather. But she wanted to read the woman’s response, to determine her intentions.
Miss Shavanastu gave a soft laugh. “We did, yes. In fact, he is the reason I traveled this far to London. I owe him a great deal, and wanted to thank him in person.”
Every hair upon Lily’s skin seemed to stand on end, but she forced herself to smile at the woman. “Then let me take you to him,” she lied. Her instincts warned that this woman was up to no good, so she guided her in the opposite direction. “He was speaking with a friend outside. Let us go and join him.”
The woman had clearly not seen Matthew, for she followed Lily readily. “I should be glad to. My daughter would not be alive, were it not for Lord Arnsbury’s assistance.”
Lily did not believe any of her words, but murmured, “You have traveled a great distance. It could not have been an easy journey.” She guided the woman toward the doors, letting the woman speak of her voyage on board the ship.
All the while, Lily was conscious of the deceit. She did not doubt for a moment that this foreigner had been brought to disturb Matthew. There was danger in her very presence, and Lily was determined to take her away from the duchess’s ball. A footman could help to discreetly escort Miss Shavanastu away, as an uninvited guest.
When they reached the garden, the woman turned to study the men and women milling about, but as Lily had intended, there was no sign of Matthew. “We must have missed him,” she said apologetically. “But if you wish to wait here, Miss Shavanastu, I can fetch a footman to bring him to us.”
The woman’s expression shifted imperceptibly, revealing a trace of annoyance. “Let us return to the ballroom, and I am certain we will find him there.”
“Perhaps in a moment.” Lily walked across the stone terrace, pretending as if nothing were amiss. “Do let me show you the gardens.”
The woman stared at her. “There are no flowers blooming in December, Lady Lily.”
“No, but it will give us a chance to speak without anyone eavesdropping.” She intended to give this woman a warning of her own. As she’d hoped, Miss Shavanastu followed.
During his revelation, Matthew had admitted that he believed someone had paid a sailor to kidnap him and James, bringing them at the mercy of their captors. But James had not been tormented in the same way, and when he’d escaped, no one had followed. Likely because he was of no consequence to the men.
Adrian had known that Matthew was leaving for India with James. Would he not arrange for his cousin’s death, particularly since he was the immediate heir to the earldom? It was easy enough to hire an assassin, but for whatever reason, Matthew had been tortured instead.
“Your English is flawless,” she said to Miss Shavanastu. “How did you learn to speak it so well?”
The woman smiled. “We were servants in an English household. I learned to speak it as easily as my own language.” In spite of her friendly tone, Lily detected a hardness in her eyes, a flash of hatred toward those she had served.
Now that they were alone, away from the other guests, Lily wanted to provoke a reaction from the woman, to see if her premonition had any merit. She had her own theory of the woman’s true identity, and decided to voice it.
“I seem to recall that Lord Arnsbury did mention you to me.” Before the woman could speak, Lily added, “But I believe your true name is Nisha Amat, is it not?” She kept a smile fixed upon her face, but the woman’s expression faltered in a moment of shock.
Miss Shavanastu shook her head. “No. You must be thinking of someone else.”
How stupid do you believe I am? she wanted to retort. Had it truly been an error, the woman would not have reacted at all. And for that reason, Lily made no effort to conceal her hatred. “I don’t know why you’ve traveled all this way, nor do I care whether you were paid by Mr. Monroe or anyone else. Return to India and leave Lord Arnsbury alone.”
The woman finally dropped the facade of friendliness. “As you said before, it was a long journey from India. I was paid well for what I did there. But I will not be paid the rest until I have finished my task. Mr. Monroe was quite furious that Arnsbury survived and returned home.”
A surge of fury rose up within her that this woman had ordered Matthew’s torture. Lily’s hands curled into fists, and she barely kept herself in control. “What you did to him was not human. I want you to leave immediately.”
“I liked torturing him,” Nisha said smoothly. “I held power over him, the way your people held power over me. I enjoyed breaking his mind as well as his body. And I had to return, to finish what I’d started. I knew where he would go, and I followed him here.”
The woman’s madness was a part of her, ensnared so deeply, it terrified Lily. Words would not convince her to stop, and she had no doubt Nisha meant to kill Matthew. The thought drew out her own protective instincts, lending her courage.
“You will not lay a single finger upon him,” she warned. “Go now, or I will have you thrown out.”
Nisha’s face curved in a dark smile. “I don’t think you will.” She reached out and caught Lily’s wrist, tightening her grip.
And in her other hand, Lily saw the glint of a knife.
Matthew searched for Lily, but she was not standing where he had left her. He held a glass of lemonade in his hand, feeling foolish while he stared at the ballroom guests.
“There you are,” James called out. He hurried toward him, and Evangeline trailed behind. Both appeared out of breath, and he wondered what had happened.
“Have you seen Lily?” he asked.
James exchanged a glance with Evangeline. “No, but I overheard a conversation between your cousin and Lord Davonshire. It seems that both men are attempting to cause more trouble.”
Likely the rumors were spreading rapidly, and he guessed, “Because of Miss Carlisle?”
James shook his head. “There’s something far worse. If you will come with me now, I’ll explain, in private.”
He couldn’t imagine what was worse, but his greater concern was his fiancée. “Let me find Lily first. I told her I would bring her a glass of lemonade, and she may want to hear this, too.”
But James caught his sleeve and lowered his voice. “There isn’t time for that, Arnsbury. It seems that Adrian brought a…guest with him this evening. He’s trying to push you into madness, the way you were when we came back from India.”
“Nothing he could say or do would accomplish that,” he answered. Over the past few months, he had managed to shut away the past, locking it out of his consciousness. And regardless of his cousin’s machinations, Matthew intended to remain strong for Lily’s sake.
James started to argue, but then Evangeline paled. “Lord Penford, I think we should go to your sister. I saw Lily on the terrace, and she—”
“Yes, I agree.” Matthew turned around, intending to go after Lily.
James joined him, but before Matthew could take another step, his cousin Adrian blocked their path. Beside him was Thomas Kingston, Viscount Burkham.
“I’ve been wanting to speak with you,” Adrian began. “I was just telling Lord Burkham of your trials in India.” His voice was silky, as if he delighted in Matthew’s ordeal. “You were imprisoned there for such a long time. Any man would go mad after such torture.”
Matthew ignored the man, knowing that his cousin was only trying to bait him. “Excuse me, Adrian.”
But the man refused to move. “In fact, I spoke with other members of Parliament over the past few weeks. They do know what you suffered and how you’ve struggled since you returned to England.”
At that, Matthew stopped. “Spreading lies and rumors does not become you, Cousin. Anyone with half a brain—” He eyed Viscount Burkham “—would see that you are trying to claim Arnsbury as yours. But you are not the earl, nor can you take command of my property.”
“Not while you are here, no,” Adrian admitted.
“Is that a threat?” he demanded. “Because everyone here knows of your debts. You hope to gain Arnsbury so you can strip its wealth away for your own gain.”
“I have no need to threaten you,” Adrian answered. “You may put on the airs of a man who has recovered, but your true nature will reveal itself.”
Matthew shook his head in exasperation and pushed his way past his cousin. But before he could take another step, Adrian added, “In fact, once you see Lady Lily, I believe all of your madness will come roaring back at you. Everyone will see exactly the man you are—one unfit to care for the estate.”
He didn’t know what Adrian was talking about, but it was clear that he was trying to provoke him. And right now, he needed to find Lily, to ensure she was all right. He eyed James, and his best friend nodded in silent agreement.
Matthew pushed his way past Adrian, walking across the ballroom to the doors leading to the terrace. James trailed behind him, his expression grim.
Outside, it was freezing cold, and the stone terrace was slick with frost. Matthew hurried toward the far end of the garden where two women stood.
And when he recognized Nisha Amat, fury roared through him. This woman had caused the torment and vicious nightmares. She had broken his spirit and mind, until he’d thought he would never have a normal life. The very sight of her made him want to close his hands over her throat until she breathed her last.
But he knew exactly what Adrian was trying to do. His cousin had been behind the kidnapping, and now he hoped to provoke him past the edge of sanity by forcing him to face his torturer.
Matthew didn’t pause to think, but ran hard toward the woman. Nisha was gripping Lily’s wrist, and in her other palm, he saw a curved blade. His mind seethed with rage, and time ground to a stop. Never would he allow Nisha to hurt the woman he loved.
Lily cried out, struggling against the woman, and all Matthew could think of was protecting her. Dimly, he heard James warning him to be careful, but he ignored the words. He cared nothing about himself—only shielding Lily.
With one stroke of the knife, his torturer could end the happiness and peace he had found. And God help him, he would snap Nisha’s neck first.
The world blurred, and Matthew pushed back all rational thoughts, surrendering to actions. He threw himself toward the woman and felt the blade sink into his flesh. He didn’t feel any pain, but he reached for Nisha’s throat, closing his hands around it. Abruptly, she stumbled, twisting, as he pressed her toward the ground.
He heard none of the voices calling out to him, nor was he aware of what was happening. All he knew was that he would give up his own life for Lily.
Strong arms dragged him backward, and the blade clattered to the stone terrace. His blood pumped wildly through his veins, and he saw the fallen body of Nisha. Lily was doubled over, blood all over her gown.
“No!” the hoarse cry tore from his throat, when he saw her sobbing.
Two men pulled him away, and he saw James kneeling beside his sister. There was a pounding echo in Matthew’s ears, and he fought to free himself from the men grasping his shoulders.
“My lord, you must leave now,” a servant was saying. “Go with your men back to your carriage. The duchess has demanded it.”
“Lily—” He needed to know if she was all right, but dizziness washed over him and he dropped to his knees. The two men hauled him upright, and he grew aware of a searing pain in his side.
“We must go.” The footmen should not have been able to overpower him, but Matthew realized that Nisha had indeed wounded him with her blade. His hands were covered in blood, and it seemed he’d been stabbed in the ribs.
He tried to break free of the men, but dizziness washed over him, and he stumbled. “I need to see if Lily is hurt.”
“Her brother is looking after her,” the footman insisted. “But my lord, you are bleeding. You should go home and order your servants to summon a doctor.”
The servant’s words made little sense. He could have sworn Dr. Fraser was among the guests, but the men were pulling him back inside the house.
“Send the doctor to…Lady Lily,” he gasped. He fought to remain conscious, but the loss of blood made it impossible. His vision wavered, and his last image was of Lily cradled in her brother’s arms beside the fallen body of his torturer.
“I must go to him,” Lily told James. “I-I need to see if he is all right.” Her hands were trembling, and she hardly knew what had happened. When Nisha had pulled the blade on her, Lily had not been afraid for herself—she had known the threat was meant to drive Matthew over the brink.
And so it had. Everyone had witnessed him diving at the woman, his hands closing over her throat.
Everything had happened so fast, yet for Lily, time had seemed to slow down. All she remembered was being pushed away while Nisha staggered forward with the blade in her hand. The woman had slashed Matthew deeply, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain at all. Instead, he gripped her by the shoulders to keep her away from Lily. Then he tried to force her to the ground.
Lily didn’t know what she could do to help, but she kicked Nisha’s leg hard. The woman lost her balance, and when she stumbled forward, she fell upon her own blade.
God help her, Lily had only been trying to save Matthew. Others were already saying that he had killed Nisha for her sake, but that wasn’t true at all. The blood and the guilt lay upon Lily’s shoulders. And the very thought made her sick.
Her brother had guided her into their carriage, and she hoped they were following Matthew. But within minutes, she realized he had taken them home. “James, I need to see him. Take me to his townhouse.”
“Give it a little time, Lily. They are investigating the cause of death, and I don’t want you there.”
She knew full well what the cause of death was. “I will not stay at home. I need to know that Matthew is all right. He was injured by the blade.”
Because of me.
She now understood the terrible guilt he had suffered when she had dislocated her arm. He had never meant to harm her, just as she would gladly have sliced her own skin before wounding Matthew.
“Lily, there was an uproar after he left. It’s not a good idea to go and see him so soon.” Her brother reached for her hand and squeezed it before he opened the carriage door.
“I will go, with or without your approval.” In this, she would not be swayed.
His mouth tightened as if he didn’t want to, but at last he nodded. “Then I will take you there myself. Unless you…want to change first?”
She realized that her ball gown was covered in blood. James was right—she could not visit Matthew looking like this. It looked as if she had been wounded herself, and that might cause him even more distress. “All right, but quickly.”
She followed her brother into the house and rang for Hattie to help her change into a demure gray gown. Her hands trembled as she donned her gloves once more, and James waited to escort her.
“You don’t have to come with me,” she argued. “I can take a footman.”
But in this, he was adamant. “After all that has happened, I am not leaving your side.” He guided her outside to the waiting carriage, and she admitted to herself that she was grateful for his protection.
Lily needed to see how badly Matthew had been wounded. Although his cousin had tried to provoke him, she knew within her heart that he had not fallen into madness. He had reacted out of rage and the desire to protect her. Afterward, she’d heard him calling out to her. It made her believe that he’d known what was happening and had done everything he could to keep her safe.
Lily felt a dark sense of satisfaction that the woman was gone. Though she had never wanted to cause anyone’s death, she was grateful that Nisha could not harm either of them again. She only prayed that they would not be blamed for her death. Surely enough witnesses had seen the attack and would know the truth.
James helped her climb into the carriage, and she sat across from him, her worry multiplying with every minute. But then he interrupted her thoughts, asking, “Why did Nisha Amat travel this far from India?”
“She came of her own accord, because she was hired to kill Matthew. Adrian only paid her a portion of what was promised. And because she…she wanted to finish the task and kill him.” Lily closed her eyes and clenched her fingers together. Another thought took hold, and she regarded her brother. “Did Nisha torture you in the same way?”
James shook his head. “They questioned me, but only to get information about Matthew, I see now. I tried not to tell them anything, but…” He grimaced. “It was difficult to hold my silence. And they didn’t really care when I escaped.”
She didn’t ask him what had happened. Instead, she reached out to hold his hand. “I am glad you came back, James. Thank you for bringing Matthew to me.” It was then that she noticed her gloves were stained with blood. She should have changed them when she’d chosen another gown, but now it was too late.
The journey to Matthew’s townhouse was short, and James helped her disembark from the carriage. Her brother rang the bell, and when the footman answered, James said, “We came to see if Arnsbury is all right. Did you send for Dr. Fraser?”
The footman frowned. “Lord Arnsbury is not here. He was attending the Duchess of Worthingstone’s ball and has not yet returned. Has something happened?”
Lily froze, exchanging a glance with James. Her brother prompted, “Then his carriage is not here?”
The footman shook his head. “No, my lord. Is there…anything we should do?” The servant uneasy about the turn of conversation. “Was Lord Arnsbury hurt?”
James shook his head. “We will go and find him.” He didn’t bother explaining himself to the footman. Instead, he led Lily back to the door and outside once again.
She waited until they were both inside the carriage before speaking. “What’s happened to Matthew?”
James’s expression turned sober. “I fear Adrian must have taken him somewhere. But I cannot say where.”
She was not going to give up so easily. If it meant confronting the man herself, she was going to find Matthew and bring him back.
“We should return to the duchess’s ball,” she informed her brother.
“He won’t be there.”
“No, but we can ask questions of the servants. Someone might know where Matthew was taken.” Emotions swelled up within her, fear that he was still wounded and in danger. Though she didn’t think his cousin would go so far as to take Matthew’s life, he might let him bleed to death.
Her brother thought for a long moment, his expression furrowed. Then he looked back at her. “Evangeline and I overheard a conversation at the ball that we weren’t meant to know about. Adrian Monroe was conspiring with Davonshire. They wanted to take command of Arnsbury’s estates and wealth, to pay off their own debts.”
A coldness gripped Lily’s senses, though she tried to hold back the fear. “Do you think they’ve taken him?”
“I don’t know,” James answered. “But I think Monroe was trying to prove that Matthew was incapable of managing the earldom. He wanted everyone to believe that Arnsbury went mad after what happened in India. Then, Adrian would be in charge of the estates.”
“But what does Davonshire have to do with it?” Lily shook her head, not understanding.
“He is somehow involved,” her brother said. “Perhaps he intended to renew his courtship of you, hoping to get his hands on your dowry.”
“He did come to pay a call on me when you were gone,” she said. “He was trying to discredit Matthew, telling me he was illegitimate and should never have been named earl.” The more she thought of it, the more she wondered what else Davonshire had done.
She sat back in silence, trying to keep her hopes up. If those footmen had not led Matthew home again, where could they have taken him? And then, the answer came to her.
“We should go to Adrian Monroe’s residence. He must know something.”
Her brother called out to the coachman and gave the orders. “It’s possible.”
Lily was afraid to get her hopes up, but she held faith that they would find Matthew before it was too late. “We will find him,” she insisted. “No matter how long it takes.”
Matthew’s head was pounding, and it felt as if his brain had been encased in cotton. Every muscle in his body was frozen, and he could hardly move. He was dimly aware of blood seeping from a wound near his ribs. The pain had been constant, a dull ache that gripped him and would not let go.
He hadn’t recognized the two footmen who had taken him from the duchess’s ball, but he’d been furious at the sight of Nisha threatening Lily. It had been a living nightmare, one he hadn’t wanted to believe.
One of the footmen had forced a tonic down him, and the opiate effects of the drug had not yet worn off. His lips were dry, and he could not rid himself of the bitter aftertaste. His vision blurred, and he heard voices talking as they approached. He closed his eyes, hoping he would learn what Adrian wanted.
“What do you want to do?” came the voice of Lord Davonshire. “Blame him for the murder of the woman? If he is imprisoned, he cannot oversee the estates.”
“There were too many witnesses who saw Nisha pull the knife on Lady Lily.” Adrian let out a disgruntled sigh. “Already they are saying the earl was only defending her. That the death was accidental.” He let out a foul curse and muttered, “There has to be another way. He was supposed to lose all sense of reason and show that he was unfit to be the earl.”
“And so he did,” Davonshire agreed. “All you have to do now is prove his madness.”
“No one will believe it.” But he thought a moment and said, “But they might believe a doctor. If we take him to an asylum, they can fill him with enough opium that he won’t even know his name.” Adrian’s tone brightened, and he added, “We can bribe someone to testify that he isn’t fit to manage the estates.”
“He’s still bleeding,” Davonshire reminded him. “Should we have a doctor heal his wounds?”
“It’s better if he dies,” Adrian answered. “He was supposed to die, in India, so that I would become the earl.”
“Why did you hire a woman to kill him?” Davonshire asked.
“I didn’t,” Adrian snapped. “But her brother was aboard the ship with them, and he turned Arnsbury over into her hands.”
Matthew kept his eyes closed, feigning an unconscious state. But inwardly, he felt cold inside. His cousin’s greed was boundless, it seemed—enough to want him dead.
“We should bring him to Bethlem Hospital,” Adrian suggested. “No one will think to look for him there.”
Matthew gritted his teeth. He would rather bleed to death than be committed to an asylum for the insane.
The sound of their footsteps retreated, and he overheard their voices growing quieter as they departed. When there was only silence, Matthew forced himself to open his eyes and discern his surroundings.
His cousin had brought him inside the house, but it appeared that they were within the servants’ quarters. The narrow bed he lay upon had hardly anything more than threadbare sheets and a wool coverlet. But if he was on the lowermost level, he could follow the corridor to another set of stairs that would lead outside. He didn’t know if he possessed the strength to make his own escape.
There was a strong chance that he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed, much less find a way out. But he steeled himself with the image of Lily’s face. He remembered the soft curve of her cheek, the rose lips that had kissed him…and the golden brown strands of hair framing her beautiful face.
She would be worried about him, and if she dared to track him here, it would endanger her. He had to get himself home again, one step at a time. Though his body did not want to cooperate, his mind remained strong. He had to get out of here.
One by one, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and managed to sit up. Dizziness rushed to his head, but he took slow breaths to steady himself. He touched his ribcage, and his fingers came away sticky with blood. The wound throbbed, but he could do nothing except hold his hand against it, keeping pressure upon the ache.
He kept Lily’s face fixed in his mind as he made his way to the door and paused to look for Adrian or Davonshire. He heard the distant sounds of arguing, but it did not seem that either man was within view. He had a few precious moments to get out, and Matthew forced himself to stagger down the hallway toward the stairs leading outside.
The pain in his ribs was vicious, tearing through him with every step. Likely they hadn’t bothered to lock the door, knowing he could barely move.
But when he reached the stairs at the end of the hall, he didn’t know if he had the strength to climb them. Droplets of blood had leaked upon the floor, and if the men decided to search, it would be an easy matter to find him.
He had to continue fighting for his life, for Lily’s sake. She had brought him back from the edge once before, and he would use her love to do it again.
Matthew nearly stumbled at the first step, but he bit his lips hard and forced himself onward. His wound felt like fire, burning his ribs. Each step was agony, but he refused to give up. His vision blurred, and he continued onward.
In his mind, he focused on what he would do once he reached the outside. He would hail a hackney and go home. There were drivers out, even this late at night. Surely, he could find someone.
The night air was frigid and malodorous when he managed to push open the door. And yet, it held the scent of freedom. Step by step, he ventured beyond the property lines, keeping his gaze fixed in the distance. He thought he heard voices, but when he turned, there was no one there.
Twisted memories invaded, causing him to hallucinate. He heard Nisha’s laughter in his mind, and he continued to hobble forward, trying to push away the visions that were not real. He closed his eyes, telling himself that he only had to make it a little further until he reached the London streets. He heard the soft nicker of horses, and it gave him hope. He trudged onward, trying to lift his hand to signal for a hackney, but his arm would not move. Every muscle in his body ached. The slick flow of blood, mingled with the effects of the opium made it impossible to lift his hand.
He looked at his surroundings and saw none of the London streets. There were horses, yes, but he had come out by the mews instead. God help him. He didn’t think he possessed the strength to prepare a horse, much less ride away from Adrian’s townhouse. Every last bit of strength was draining away from him.
He managed to enter the stable, but he could not take more than a few steps before his knees buckled. He tried to pull himself back up, but the tide of dizziness swept over him until he collapsed to the ground.
Behind him, he heard voices. “Should we bring him back?”
“No. Leave him there. He’ll be dead by morning.”
And with that, the heavy wooden door closed, leaving him in complete darkness.