Brotherhood 02 - Broken Promise

by Laura Landon

  He seemed to think for a moment as if he’d never considered why he stayed in London. She waited for his answer.

  “I think I’m content because I know I’m able to escape any time I want.”

  “Yet, you don’t. You stay there. Why? Is it because of your work? Do you enjoy what you do so much?”

  He laughed, but his laughter had a hollow ring to it. As if the opposite were true.

  “How did the Earl of Penderly find you? Were you acquainted with each other somehow?”

  Her question seemed to surprise him. He lifted his glass of wine and took a swallow as if that particular point made him uncomfortable.

  “Did you know Penderly before he hired you to find me?”

  He set down his glass and took a deep breath. “I’d met him once before.”

  “When?”

  “After the war. After I returned.”

  “You were friends?”

  “No.”

  Captain Landwell slid his plate toward the center of the small table indicating he was finished. It also afforded him time, as if deciding exactly how much he wanted her to know—if anything.

  “I visited their home to tell them I was with their son, your husband’s younger brother, when he died.”

  A painful stabbing of emotion pierced her heart. She ached for him, saw how much reliving that affected him. “I see. Is that why you agreed to find me?”

  His gaze shot up to meet hers. “I agreed to find you because the Earl of Penderly was desperate to make amends with you. He and his wife are eager to provide for you as their son, your husband, would have.”

  His words jarred her. She slowly placed her fork down beside her plate, then dropped the napkin to the table. Landwell did the same.

  Their conversation was at an end. Without casting her a glance, he rose and pulled the table away so she could rise. She walked to where Mrs. Pollock held a sleeping Jonathan and took him.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Pollock,” she said. “The food was delicious.”

  “I agree,” Landwell said from beside her. “Your husband had better beware. If anyone in London finds out about your talents, they’ll steal you away from him.”

  “Oh, you’re such a tease, Captain. But wouldn’t I love to see what the Mister did if anyone came to try.”

  Her hearty laughter lightened a very tense atmosphere, but once she left the room, the barriers were back in place.

  He picked up the single bag that contained Jonathan’s and her earthly belongings. “Do you have everything you need?”

  She had to make one final attempt to stop him from taking them to London. “Is there anything I can say or do to convince you to change your mind?”

  He walked to the door and opened it. “No.”

  She tossed another light blanket over Jonathan and hugged him closer. Landwell left her no choice. She wouldn’t allow him to take Jonathan away from her. But now wasn’t the time to make her final stand. That would come when he least expected it.

  He motioned for her to exit the room and she walked toward him. She refused to have him force her to leave the room, but neither would she submit without letting him know how deeply she despised his domineering manner.

  She lifted her shoulders and marched past him. It wouldn’t be now. Perhaps not even today, but the time would come when he would pay for trying to take Jonathan away from her. Because she would lose him when she came face to face with the Earl of Penderly.

  …

  Austin carried the single valise that held the earthly belongings of Viscountess Fledgemont and her son, the current Viscount Fledgemont, the future Earl of Penderly, down the stairs. There was no way to convince her now, but the day would come when she’d thank him for taking them to live with the Earl of Penderly.

  The taproom was less than half full when they reached the bottom of the stairs, as the younger lads were already off to work and only a few of the older men gathered around a table to visit.

  Austin escorted Lady Fledgemont to the end of the well-worn, wooden bar. He paid Mr. Pollock for their lodging, then tipped Mrs. Pollock handsomely for all she’d done for them. After they said their goodbyes, he walked Lady Fledgemont across the room.

  There was something very comfortable about walking at her side, something he couldn’t explain, but it loosened his limbs and slowed his gait with its soothing calm. The experience reminded him of times in his past when he’d escorted a beautiful woman across a ballroom floor. Times when he’d walked with a lighter step and a lift to his shoulders. Times when smiles came easily and burdens were undemanding.

  He opened the door, then led her to the waiting carriage. When they reached the hired conveyance he stopped. “Let me hold the babe while you step up.”

  She hesitated, but reluctantly placed the infant in his arms.

  Their fingers touched and a traveling sensation soared through his body. Her nearness always affected him like that. She pulled her hands away from him and he wondered if she felt it, too. Or if she’d pulled away because his touch repulsed her. He couldn’t tell from her expression because her quick movement caused the little rag toy the babe was so fond of to fall to the ground.

  She bent to retrieve it. When she straightened, her gaze shifted to his left, to the corner of the stable. Her eyes opened wide and filled with terror.

  “No!” she yelled in warning.

  Before Austin could react, she spun around with her arms spread wide and pressed her back against little Jonathan. Her gesture acted as a shield to cover the babe in his arms.

  A muffled pop echoed in the silence and her body pushed against him. Austin recognized the sound and wrapped his arm around her waist as her legs folded beneath her. With a desperation he hadn’t felt since the war, he lowered her to the ground and shielded mother and infant with his body.

  “Take cover!” His bellowed order came out instinctively, and he was vaguely aware of the coachman diving behind the luggage cart. For several long, agonizing moments, he waited for the assassin to fire another shot. When none came, he shifted enough to get a look at her. Her shock-filled gaze locked with his.

  “The…baby?” she whispered.

  “Jonathan’s fine. But you’re not. Lie still.” A growing circle darkened the front of her cloak and his heart thundered in his chest.

  He slid his arm beneath her shoulder and pressed his hand against the wound. Her low moan cut through him like the twisting of a knife to his gut.

  Why hadn’t he believed her? He hadn’t for one moment considered that Penderly had been lying. If she died—

  “Don’t give Jonathan…to him. Promise me.” Her trembling fingers clasped the front of his jacket. “Please.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Austin scanned the surroundings, focusing on the direction the shot had come from. Nothing was there now. The only activity came from the inn as the patrons rushed outside. Mr. Pollock reached them first.

  “Was that a shot I—” He came to a halt when he saw Lady Fledgemont on the ground. “Maudie!” he yelled to his wife. “Send for Doctor Blevins!”

  Quick orders were given and rushing footsteps grew faint as someone sped away. “The shot came from the north corner of the stable, from behind those bins hanging on the side,” Austin yelled, and two men with weapons at the ready headed cautiously in that direction.

  “Oh, my dear Lord in Heaven,” Maudie Pollock said, hovering beside him. “The poor lady.”

  “Take the babe, Mrs. Pollock. I need to get her inside.”

  The innkeeper’s wife took Jonathan and rushed inside. Austin watched until the babe was safe, then focused his gaze on the pale woman in his arms. Fingers of dread clutched at his heart and squeezed until he ached.

  Her gaze locked with his and he tried to offer her a smile of reassurance. “Stay with me, all right?” he said.

  She nodded and he smiled once more, then lifted her in his arms and carried her inside.

  He ignored her soft moans and held her close as he crossed the
taproom, then climbed the stairs. The door to the room they’d just left was still open and Mrs. Pollock was there with the babe. Austin crossed the floor and placed Lady Fledgemont on the bed.

  Her breathing was rapid and labored. When she was settled, she lifted her gaze. “Take care of the babe, Captain Landwell.” A trail of tears slid from the corners of her eyes. “If something happens, promise you’ll take care of him.”

  Austin rushed across the room and grabbed the water basin and cloths, then hurried back. He needed to work fast. He needed to stop the bleeding. She’d lost so much blood already.

  “You don’t want to leave the boy with me, Lady Fledgemont. I’d be a poor substitute for his mother.”

  She sank back into the mattress. “I think you’d be perfect.”

  Her voice was little more than a whisper and a surge of panic raced through him. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said sharply. “I’d make the worst kind of father, so you’d best do everything in your power to stay alive.”

  He was losing her. He could see it in her eyes. He pressed harder against her wound and she flinched.

  “In fact, I think Lord and Lady Penderly would be the perfect parents for Jonathan.”

  Her pain-filled eyes darted to his. “No.” She gasped to catch her breath. “You promised.”

  She was overcome by a fit of coughing, and guilt consumed him for being so cruel, but he didn’t have a choice. She had to be so desperate to live that she’d fight with every ounce of her strength.

  “Mrs. Pollock, put the boy down, then go below and heat more water. The doctor will need it when he comes.”

  “Right away, Captain. I’ll send Geordie up with more cloths and some bandages.”

  “Thank you.” When she was gone, he lifted the blood-soaked bandage from her shoulder and felt his first wave of hope. The bleeding had slowed. If only the doctor would hurry.

  Austin admitted that he could do a little doctoring. He’d had experience when he’d brought his best friend Gabe home from the war with wounds that should have killed him. But that was different. He didn’t want to think he might have to dig out the bullet that was still lodged in Lady Fledgemont’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure he could do it. She was too delicate. He couldn’t imagine inflicting so much pain on someone so fragile, so…

  He pulled a knife from his pocket and cut the material of her gown. She’d probably be angry with him for ruining her dress. He doubted if she had another one with her.

  When he’d divested her of her outer clothing and blood-soaked dress, he held a wet cloth to her flesh and cleaned the area as best he could. He’d seen worse wounds, but those had been on men, on hardened soldiers who were used to the injuries associated with battle.

  “The doctor will be here soon,” he whispered. He prayed he was right. She needed this to be over. She was getting weaker each minute the bullet remained inside her.

  He exposed a bit more of her flesh and she covered his fingers to halt his movement. He looked at the frown on her face and smiled. “Don’t worry, Lady Fledgemont, you’re still decently covered.” He pulled the coverlet above her waist. “Mrs. Pollock will be here in a moment to make sure the doctor and I don’t take advantage of you.”

  Her hand slowly lifted as she reluctantly gave in to his ministrations.

  Austin wanted to smile. For an actress, she was more modest than he expected. But then, she was frightened. And in pain.

  He placed the knife on the bedside table and reached for her hand. She needed reassurance. He placed her small hand in his and wrapped his fingers around hers. He thought she might pull away from him, but she didn’t. She squeezed his flesh as if she found comfort in his touch.

  A bolt of something as powerful as lightning exploded inside his chest. He brought up his free hand and cupped her cheek, then leaned down. “You have to fight to stay with us, my lady. For Jonathan. Because he needs you. And I would hate to lose you. I’ve grown quite fond of our discussions.”

  Their gazes caught and an emotion he didn’t understand passed between them. He couldn’t put a name to it, or explain its origin, but its power affected him like nothing ever had.

  Heavy footsteps climbed the stairs and neared their room.

  “The doctor’s here now,” he whispered. “Would you like me to leave? Or would you rather I stay?”

  “Stay…please.”

  Austin smiled, then gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  The doctor entered the room and introduced himself as he evaluated Lady Fledgemont’s shoulder. When he finished, he lifted his gaze to where Austin still sat with Lady Fledgemont’s hand in his. “Have you had any medical experience?”

  “A little.”

  “Good. You can help me.” He turned to where Mrs. Pollock stood. “Maude, let in all the light you can. Then, go below and bring up that salve I left when Geordie cut his leg with the axe.”

  Mrs. Pollock ran to the windows and pulled back the curtains, then scurried from the room.

  “You look like a very brave woman,” the doctor said to Lady Fledgemont. “I’m glad. This is going to hurt like hell.”

  Lady Fledgemont’s fingers tightened around Austin’s hand. He prayed that whatever the doctor asked him to do, it wouldn’t cause her more pain than she could bear.

  “Sit beside her on the bed and hold her still,” the doctor ordered. “Lay on her if you have to. I’ll try to get the bullet out as quickly as I can. The last thing I want is her jerking when I need her to lie still.”

  Austin nodded, then sat on the side of the bed. He placed his elbow near her waist and rested his arm between her breasts. His hand cupped her cheek and he turned her head so she faced him. “Don’t watch the doctor, sweet. Look at me. Memorize my face so when the doctor’s finished, you can tell me how ugly I am.”

  When Doctor Blevins gave Austin a nod to indicate he was ready to begin, Austin pressed down on her.

  As if she realized what his movement meant, her eyes opened wide. Fear and desperation stared back at him.

  “It’s all right to scream, my sweet,” he said when Blevins attempted to remove the bullet. “You can tell me exactly what you think of me.”

  She moaned, then her uninjured hand reached up and grabbed hold of his shirt in her fist. She caught part of his flesh too, but he didn’t care. The pain he experienced was nothing compared to her suffering.

  “Scream, sweetheart,” he whispered when Blevins dug again. “It’s all right to scream.”

  She shook her head and clenched her teeth. A heavy sheen of perspiration covered her face and one delicate rivulet trickled down her cheek. He respected her bravery, he admired her for being so strong, but he knew from experience it was better to release the pain than hold it inside. Some men he knew screamed until they were hoarse. Others let forth a string of profanity that caused even the most experienced of surgeons to blush. The wounded men who fared the worst were the ones who bravely held their screams inside. Their torture stayed with them far longer.

  The doctor must have known it too. His look contained more concern than Austin wanted to see.

  “Scream, my sweet. Let me hear your pain.”

  She shook her head and clenched her jaw. All she released was a pitiful moan that caught in her throat.

  When the doctor leaned down to make a third attempt to remove the bullet, Austin brushed his cheek to hers and whispered in her ear. “Scream, my sweet, or I’ll take little Jonathan to Lord Penderly before the sun sets on this day.”

  Doctor Blevins pushed the instrument deep into her tender flesh and this time pulled out the bullet.

  “Nooo!”

  Her shrill scream pierced the silence with horrifying intensity. Austin nestled her uninjured hand close to his chest while the doctor bandaged her opposite shoulder.

  “It’s over, my sweet. The doctor’s finished.”

  Her breathing was rapid and harsh. Her face was pale, her features drawn, and her eyes filled with pain.

  Austin took a cool cloth
and wiped the dampness from her face. She clamped her fingers around his wrist.

  “Where’s…Jonathan?”

  “Mrs. Pollock has him.”

  “I want to…see him.”

  Austin nodded to Mrs. Pollock and she brought the babe over and placed him at Lady Fledgemont’s side. The lady’s breathing calmed and her features relaxed. The doctor was almost finished, but she didn’t seem to notice anything except the babe lying next to her. It was as if she was memorizing everything about him because she might leave him.

  “Please, keep him safe,” she whispered.

  Austin sat on the chair close to the bed and placed his hand over hers. “I will. Nothing will happen to him.”

  Lady Fledgemont’s eyelids fluttered then slowly closed.

  When the doctor finished, Austin walked him to the door.

  “She should rest now,” he said as he packed his belongings into the leather bag he’d brought with him. “I left some laudanum on the bedside table. Give her some in a little wine when she wakes. She’ll need it.”

  Austin nodded. He was more than acquainted with the benefits and the risks of using laudanum from when he’d taken care of Gabe. A woman of Lady Fledgemont’s size wouldn’t take nearly the amount he’d given Gabe.

  “Watch her through the night,” the doctor said when they were out of the room. “Hopefully, she won’t develop a fever. If she doesn’t, she should heal fairly rapidly. If she does—” He paused. “Well, we’ll hope she doesn’t.”

  Austin knew what the doctor meant. Just like in the Crimea, more soldiers died from fever than from bullets.

  “Thank you, Doctor Blevins.” Austin handed the doctor a coin.

  Doctor Blevins took a step down the hall then stopped. “I’ll be back tomorrow. If you need me sooner, send someone for me.”

  Austin thanked him again then walked back into the room. He softly closed the door and looked at her delicate figure on the bed. He tried to sort through the emotions tangling with one another, tried to figure out why on earth his world seemed to shift when he looked at her. For some reason he couldn’t understand, she was more important to him than he ever intended to let anyone become.