by Vella, Wendy
Primrose did not miss the looks passing between the duchess, duke, and Heather.
“What are you not telling me? Is Mr. Hetherington worse?”
“No, he is still unconscious, but no worse,” Heather said. “It is just that people are talking.”
“About what?”
The duke excused himself with a pained look on his face, stating he was taking the book back to the library. The duchess hurried away to order food and have water heated for her bath.
“Heather?” Primrose looked at her friend.
“Everyone has tried to stop the rumors, but as the guests were all asked to leave after Mr. Alexander Hetherington’s accident, and have done so, or will do by tomorrow, there is no way they can be snuffed out completely.”
“What rumors, Heather?”
“Primrose, we know what happened to you was not your fault—”
“Just tell me, please.”
“People are saying you have been compromised. That you were walking through the house late the night you were kidnapped to meet a man. Not just any man, but Mr. Benjamin Hetherington.”
“What rubbish.” Primrose felt her cheeks heat. If only they knew.
“Most of us know that you were taken against your will, but some are saying differently. Saying you ran away with Mr. Benjamin Hetherington. The duke has tried to squash the rumors, but he is only one man.”
“Utter rot.” Primrose opened the door to her room to find Lady Jane pacing the floor.
“Leave us, please, Miss Fullerton Smythe.”
“I shall speak to you tomorrow.” Primrose hugged her friend and urged her out the door.
“Are you well, Primrose?”
“Yes, thank you, Lady Jane.”
“Excellent. We leave for London first thing in the morning. I know of a man who is desperate for a nubile young wife. He has children but no heirs. You will do perfectly.”
“I… pardon?”
“You have been compromised. No man but a desperate one will have you now. Unless Mr. Hetherington has offered for you, we must take measures to secure your future now, before it is too late.”
“H-he has not offered for me.” Primrose made herself speak the lie. He had, but only because of his honor, and after the conversation she had just had with him, she would not marry him now if he was the last man standing!
“I had thought not. Mr. Hetherington will not marry you, his family will not allow it. My decision is made.”
“I will go home, my lady. I have no wish to marry someone who sees me as a brood mare.”
“Don’t be foolish, girl. Such marriages are made every day! Besides, I have written to your parents. They will be aware by now of your disgrace.”
“It was not my fault!” Primrose felt panic climb inside her. “Surely you cannot blame me for being taken from Rossetter against my will.”
“It matters not the circumstances, only that your name is tarnished beyond repair.”
“I came home in the company of a maid.”
“But what about before that?”
The injustice of it all took her breath away.
“We are returning to London.”
“And from there I am going home,” Primrose vowed, ignoring the vicious tug of pain Lady Jane’s words had caused her. “I want no part of a society that would treat a woman in such a way when she has done nothing wrong.”
“You have constantly flouted social standards. Leaping into the water several times, and what were you doing walking about the halls the night Mr. Sanders grabbed you?”
“I was going to retrieve a book from the library as I could not sleep!”
“And what about the last few days? Where were you then?”
She could not say the truth. How did she tell Lady Jane that she had experienced more emotion in two days than she had in a lifetime? That she now had to change one of her long-held opinions. That actually, she did believe in love… even if it was for a man who would never marry her.
Instead Primrose told Lady Jane an abbreviated version while she washed and ate. She would not be appeased, and stood firm in her belief that Primrose’s only chance for happiness was marriage to whoever would have her. They argued, but Lady Jane would not be moved, so Primrose gave up for now. Later, when exhaustion was not dogging her every move, she would discuss the matter once more and make her see reason.
When finally she was left alone, Primrose fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Upon waking, she tidied her appearance, then went to see if there was any more news about Benjamin’s brother.
“When are you leaving?”
Benjamin appeared before her. His face was lined with fatigue and worry, eyes narrowed and tight. He had yet to change his clothes, and he looked more beautiful than she’d ever seen him. Her dark, angry angel. She wanted to hold him and share his pain. Instead she stopped and clutched her hands together.
“How is your brother?”
“Still unconscious.” His tone was clipped.
“Benjamin, we need to—”
“What? Discuss what happened? I have said I will marry you, there is no need to push the matter, Miss Ainsley. Now leave for London as I have already asked you to do. I will come when my brother wakes.”
“No, I am not here for that. I am here to help in any—”
“We need none of your help. Everyone who is close to Alex is at present in the room with him. What possible use could you be?”
“You are punishing me for something I had no hand in, Benjamin. Why?”
“I am not discussing this any further with you. My brother needs me.”
“Benjamin, please, I am your friend.” She had to try to reach him again. Just once more. She loved him, and although he did not love her, surely they could be friends.
His eyes ran over her face.
“I need no friend. Now leave, and I will call on you when my brother is well. Ours will be a marriage like so many others in society. Loveless.”
She grabbed his arm as he tried to brush by her, but he shook it off and walked away, and Primrose then understood the meaning of a true broken heart. The pain nearly doubled her over.
She turned, wanting only to hurry back to her room. Tomorrow she would leave and then return to Pickford. She would get over this and be happy there.
“He is not himself, Primrose.”
Lady Levermarch was standing in a doorway; she had no doubt heard every word.
Primrose’s throat was clogged with tears; she could find nothing to say.
“Benjamin is not like the other brothers; he has a deep mistrust of women, which Finn believes is due to his mother’s abandonment.”
“It matters not.”
“It sounded like it matters. It also sounded like Benjamin is to offer for you.” Lady Levermarch looked tired, her beautiful face tight with worry.
“No. He would do so out of honor only, but I have no wish for that. I will be going home. Goodbye, Lady Levermarch. Please tell him I release him from any commitment to me.”
“If you care for him, then fight for your happiness—and his, Primrose.”
“But he does not care for me,” Primrose said softly. “Goodbye.”
Chapter Thirty
“Hannah, please lie down for a while. Just rest, even if you don’t sleep.” Ben urged his sister-in-law out of her seat. “Alex will be furious with me when he wakes to find I have not looked after you.”
“I-I just want him to open his eyes.”
“I know.” He held her briefly. “And he will, I believe that with everything inside me, Hannah. But you must take care of yourself and the babe now. When he wakes and starts roaring his displeasure, I have no wish to bear the brunt of it.”
He found a smile as he handed her to Phoebe, who looked as exhausted as Hannah.
“Stay with her, please, Phoebe.”
Her beautiful face was blotchy from weeping, but she sniffed, held her shoulders back, and led a broken Hannah from the room.
“The
doctor is due to return,” Finn said from his place at the end of the bed, where he had stood watching vigil over his little brother since Ben returned.
“Sit, Finn, for pity’s sake, before you fall.”
Ben pushed a chair into the back of his legs, and like a mighty oak, Finn fell into it.
Moving to the seat Hannah had just vacated, he took his brother’s hand and held it tight.
“You need to wake up now, Alex.” Ben had said that every few minutes over the last two days. He’d slept briefly, and usually in a chair in the room, and left only when necessary. One of those times he’d run into Primrose.
Fear had made him cruel to her, he’d known it just as she had, but he’d been unable to stop the words falling from his lips. Ben didn’t know how to explain to her what was going on inside him, so he’d pushed her away. He’d make things right with her as soon as Alex woke, he promised himself. And he hoped she’d forgive him because she was Primrose. Open and honest, and yes, caring.
They’d tried to make him and Finn leave to get some sleep, but they had stood firm. Until Alex opened his eyes, this was where they would be.
His brother looked as he always did, lying there. As if he slept and would soon wake. His hair was pushed back from his forehead. He needed a shave, but Ben wouldn’t let anyone touch him.
“Alex.” Ben touched his jaw. This man was his other half; to comprehend life without him was too painful.
“I thought of you as my sons, you know? Even though the years between us are not great enough for it to be so, I still thought of you that way.”
Ben looked to where Finn sat. His head was resting on his hands, his eyes on Alex.
“We know, and were it not for you, neither of us would have understood the meaning of the word family, Finn. You taught us to value life, when before we cared nothing for it.”
“I sometimes think it was you who suffered more than he when Mother left.”
“What? Why would you believe that?” Ben dragged his eyes from Finn; his heart was suddenly beating hard inside his chest.
“You never really let women get close to you.”
“Rubbish. Your wife and Hannah are close to me.”
“But they are married.”
“You have it wrong,” Ben rasped.
“I don’t think so. It’s also my belief that you have feelings for Miss Ainsley.”
“No.” Ben shook his head even as he heard the truth in his brother’s words. For so long he’d vowed never to feel that emotion, that it had become natural to deny it.
“Yes, Ben. You cannot go through your life avoiding emotion; it will make you a lonely and bitter old man. I have never mentioned this before, but now, with Primrose, I think things are different.”
“I have no wish to discuss this now.” Ben’s chest felt tight as he thought about Primrose.
“Very well, but we will, and soon,” Finn said.
Ben did not reply, and they sat in silence watching their brother as another hour ticked by.
“I can’t lose one of you now, Ben. Not after years of worry that you would do something reckless to endanger your l-life,” Finn said, his voice thick with fatigue and tears.
“I-I don’t know if I can live without him,” Ben said. “He knows me better than anyone. What I’m thinking before I think it. He even knows where I am going before I’ve told him. My life would be nothing were he no longer in it.”
The door to the room opened as Ben finished speaking, and the stranger who walked in had to have felt the desperation that hung in the air. “Good afternoon.”
“Who are you?” Finn wiped his eyes as he got to his feet.
“I am Dr. Siblinguyer.”
“I’m not attempting to say that,” Finn said. “What is it you are doing here? Where is Dr. Crofter?”
“He said he can do no more for your brother, but I would like to try. I have been treating Lady Althea, and she wished for me to come and see your brother.”
He was young, about Ben’s age, and he looked more like a poet than any doctor he knew. Tall, slender, with longish hair and a gentle smile.
“Ben, move and let the doctor see Alex.”
“How do we know he’s any good?”
“Because Thea and Ace trust him, and surely that is enough for us?”
“You have a point. Go to the other side of the bed, Doctor. I am not moving.”
“Of course,” the doctor said. “And you are twins, I understand?”
Ben nodded. He watched as the man checked Alex over, lifting his eyelids and taking his pulse, all things the other doctor had done.
“He is a healthy man, and one who I believe will regain consciousness when he is ready.”
“Which will be when?” Ben demanded.
“What I need you to do, Mr. Hetherington, is to start talking to him.”
“I have been doing that.”
“Also stimulating the senses. Touch, smell, and hearing. If he has a favorite flower or scent, you need to bring it into this room. Does he like the feel of a certain something against his skin? Find the things that will stimulate his senses.”
The doctor talked to them for ten more minutes, explaining what he believed would rouse Alex. He then left with a promise he would return tomorrow morning.
“He said to open the curtains and windows to let air and light in.” Ben started to draw them back. “Go and get that waistcoat he has that he’s always stroking, Finn. The one with the rose satin stripes, and then fetch that cologne he gave me.”
“Ben—”
“Do it, Finn.”
“Very well. I shall return shortly.”
Ben opened the windows to let the breeze waft in, and then sat to wait his eldest brother’s return.
“I have the things.”
Ben took them from Finn and went back to his seat beside the bed. Opening the scent, he waved it under Alex’s nose. Nothing.
“Run that waistcoat over his face,” Finn suggested.
Picking up the waistcoat with its ridiculously decadent fabrics and feminine colors, he ran it down his brother’s cheek.
“Did he just twitch?” Finn hurried to the other side of the bed. “I’m sure he twitched.”
Ben picked up the scent again and waved it under Alex’s nose.
“He twitched,” Finn breathed.
“Open your eyes now, Alex,” Ben said, bracing his hands on either side of his twin’s head. “We love you and need you to open your eyes.”
His heart thumped as Alex’s eyelashes flickered.
“He’s waking up.” Finn grabbed his other hand. “Please God, tell me he is.”
“Alex!” Ben touched his cheek.
The eyes opened, and he allowed himself to cry for the first time since he’d walked into the room.
When he was assured by Dr. Siblinguyer, who had now become something of a hero in the household, that his brother would indeed make a full recovery, Ben allowed himself to leave his twin in the capable hands of his wife and seek his room. He thought about finding Primrose, but looking down at his clothing, he knew he needed to wash first. Sleep also was something he must have before he fell flat on his face—and food, he added to the list.
His valet stripped him, helped him bathe, then helped him stagger into bed. He was then forced to eat until finally his body gave up the fight and slept.
He woke twenty-three hours later with a raging fever. His throat was raw, and he could barely speak a word.
“My brother?” he rasped as Dr. Siblinguyer walked into the room, no doubt having been summoned by his valet.
“Is doing very well, sir. You, however, are not. I would suggest exhaustion and the last few days have caught up with you. Plus, you have an inflammation of the chest, and your throat is red and swollen. You will not be leaving this bed until you are better.”
He tried to argue, tried to get out of bed, but he was suddenly as weak as a kitten. He felt a desperate need to seek out Primrose, but soon sleep was dragging him
back down.
The next few days were spent in a daze of pain and sleep. Liquid laced with honey was forced down his throat, and the elixir made him sigh as it soothed his raw throat.
“You will see them soon, Ben. Rest easy now.”
Finn was there every time he turned over with a cool hand that he pressed to Ben’s forehead.
“Come, brother, you must take some broth.”
Finn spoke, and Ben obeyed, and then he would slip into a deep, dreamless sleep once more.
Six days after he’d taken ill, Ben thought he may live. The last few days he’d been slowly recovering, even if he was still weak. He’d thought constantly about Primrose, but had no wish for her to see him in this state or contract whatever he’d had, so he’d not mentioned her name.
Today he would see her and apologize for the way he’d behaved. He would also need to bare his soul, which was not a comfortable thought. In fact it made him itch, but she deserved that from him.
“I wish to wash and get out of bed today, please, Heggley,” he told his valet. “And shave,” he added, running a hand over his whiskers.
“Perhaps your dressing gown, sir, and you could take your morning meal in the chair beside the window.”
“I wish to see my brother, so I will take tea with him.”
Whatever Heggley saw in his eyes had him consenting.
Ben allowed himself to smile. His brother would live.
He’d dreamed about Primrose. Hot, fevered dreams that had disturbed him as he couldn’t talk to or touch her. Every time he got closer, she seemed to fade away.
Staggering out of bed to the bath, he sighed as the warm water soothed his aches.
He ate the food that was brought to him, then dressed, feeling a great deal better. The walk to his brother’s rooms felt good, even if he was breathless after climbing the stairs.
“Enter!”
Smiling at the strength in his twin’s voice, he let himself inside the room. Finn was there, as were Hannah and Phoebe.
“Good God, what are you doing out of bed?” Finn stormed across the room. “You look like death.”
“Lovely to see you also. But I am fine, just a little weak.”
“You could never let me do anything on my own,” Alex said. He still looked pale, but the sparkle in his eyes made Ben’s heart feel light. “I’m sorry I could not come to you, Ben.”
