Love Comes Blindly (book 5) (The Fielding Brothers Saga)

by Higgins, Marie

  Tears stung Gregg’s eyes. The heaviness in his chest multiplied. If he hadn’t traveled all this way for a great story for the newspaper, Jonathan and Harvey would still be alive. Guilt washed over Gregg, and he couldn’t breathe.

  He nodded. “Will you inform one of the nuns I wish her help with writing a letter? I need to inform Mr. Westland and Mr. Black’s families of their deaths.”

  “As you wish.”

  Gregg settled back in his bed, pulling the blanket around him tighter. His body had suddenly turned chilly. How could he possibly tell the families? They would blame him, and rightly so since Gregg had always been adventurous. What could he say that would ease their pain?

  As he waited for the nun, his life passed through his mind. He’d accomplished a lot over the past several years, and it wasn’t until he purchased the newspaper that he finally decided to make something out of himself. For years he’d been restless, and caused plenty of scandal with married women. He’d been considered an eligible rake at one time. Of course, that was before he was almost forced to marry.

  He shook his head. It was a good thing he had seen what kind of girl he was about to marry and called it off. Miss O’Neil was a whore in the worst way. True, he’d saved her from being attacked at her sister’s birthday ball, but Gregg’s way of comforting turned into passion, and before he knew it, he took the girl’s virginity, instead. But it wasn’t forced. In fact, she was the aggressor.

  Where was Maddie now? Last he’d heard she had left London, but her family hadn’t heard from her. Perhaps it was best. Maddie did nothing but cause problems for everyone. Even him. And he hadn’t really been in her life that long.

  After that scandal, he did a lot of thinking and decided to quit floundering. He, too, had deceived others to get what he wanted—like Maddie—but after knowing her, he decided he didn’t want to live that way. That’s when he bought the newspaper. Now his adventures were different, but exciting nonetheless. Yet now he didn’t have a lot of time to dally with bored, married women.

  He supposed he could thank Maddie for changing him.

  Gregg sighed and frowned. But he also wasn’t thinking of anybody else when he decided to take this trip to Scotland. If he had, he wouldn’t have taken his best friend and his newest employee and the newspaper’s best artist.

  The rustle of fabric sounded near him and the chair squeaked as someone sat next to his bed.

  “The doctor informed me that you wish to write a couple of letters?”

  The voice was older than the last nun to help him. He wished it had been the other woman. Her sweet, caring voice had encouraged him, and uplifted him if only in a small measure. But it was her soft touch he remembered, and the way she stroked his hand as she tried to ease his worries.

  As he dictated the letters, his voice broke a few times, his throat tight with emotion. It was his selfishness that caused two lives to be taken. When he ended the letters, he turned away from the nun, not wanting to speak anymore.

  His life had turned for the worse. Perhaps this was his punishment from God for living so recklessly. He definitely deserved it. Yet, thinking about being blind for the rest of his life was a nightmare. How could he run the paper this way? How could he be a normal man now?

  Chapter Two

  Madeline stayed away from Gregg’s bed until the next day when she delivered his breakfast. She wasn’t in the mood to talk and, thankfully, he didn’t seem to want to converse, either. Now that he was so close, uncertainty beat in her heart. Was it in God’s plan to bring Gregg here so she could apologize for the terrible way she’d treated him three years ago? She needed a clear conscience before beginning her new life. Confessing everything to Gregg was the only way.

  Yet she couldn’t.

  Remembering his tone of voice when he’d talked to her the last day they’d been together in London, and the look of pain and betrayal that had been in his eyes, broke her heart even more. The ache in her chest was as strong now as it had been back then.

  As a foolish young girl, she’d thought herself in love with her sister’s husband. Sixteen was too young to know her heart, and Madeline had wanted someone she couldn’t have. She had used Gregg to make her brother-in-law jealous, and while manipulating these two men, she discovered she and Gregg had a lot in common.

  More handsome than she dared to admit back then, she loved the way Gregg bantered with her. He was very much a gentleman, even when she gave him her virginity. His hands were so tender, so gentle in the way he stroked her and awakened passion inside her. Gregg’s kisses had mesmerized her and his charm seduced her. Afterward, he stepped up to do his duty by offering marriage.

  She didn’t want him, but another man she could never have. But now she knew she had never really loved her brother-in-law. It had all been a scheme to make her sister unhappy. Guilt from her past mistakes wrenched her heart. Why she did those awful things to Juliana and lied to her, she’d never know. Could jealousy have been the key back then? Jealousy because Juliana had a man and Madeline didn’t? She’d wanted all the attention back then, whether good or bad.

  She definitely got it when she had been kicked out of the house and sent on her way with very little funds. It was more than she’d deserved.

  Madeline swept her hand against her moist brow and hurried through her daily duties, trying everything she could to keep away from Gregg. But curiosity pulled her back, and she had to see how he fared.

  “Mr. Fielding?” When she bent and touched his arm, he jumped and grabbed her hand, making her inhale sharply. “Forgive me for startling you, it’s just me.”

  He scooted up in his bed and she helped by stuffing a few pillows behind him.

  “Who are you?” he asked. “You have not told me your name, but I recognize your voice from yesterday.”

  Now was certainly not the time to confess, either. Would God forgive her if she told a little white lie for now? “I’m…Sister Mary.”

  He tilted his head. He wore clean bandages today, and his skin didn’t appear so pallid. “Just Sister Mary?”

  “Yes.” That wasn’t exactly a lie, she convinced herself.

  His mouth pulled into a grin. “I understand. Your accent is different from the others. Are you from England?”

  “Yes, but my home is here in Scotland now.”

  “Very well then Sister Mary. I want to thank you for your care yesterday. Your presence was a great comfort when I needed it the most.”

  Her heart flipped. If only he knew the person to whom he spoke these kind words. “I was only doing what I felt needed to be done.”

  “The doctor told me about my friends.” His voice tightened and he scratched his head as if looking for something to keep his hand occupied.

  “I’m sorry to hear about them, too.”

  “Jonathan Black was one of my newer employees at the newspaper. He was so young, so eager to give his best. I’d worked with Harvey Westland since the opening of the newspaper. I’d never seen such great pictures before.” He shook his head. “I wish I knew what happened. We were traveling to meet a man who had served in the Crimean War. I didn’t think he wanted us dead.”

  She sat on the chair beside his bed. “I heard the Reverend Mother mention the man who fired the cannon was General McFadden who is retired and now a landowner. He mistook you and your friends for Russian soldiers.”

  “Impossible. How could that be? We were not wearing uniforms. Besides, McFadden is the one who invited us to his land. He was going to give us a story to put in the newspaper.”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Fielding. I have heard General McFadden hasn’t been in his right mind since he returned from the war.”

  “If I wasn’t blind, I would take the imbecile to the authorities and have him hanged for what he did.”

  “Mr. Fielding, I don’t believe you will be blind forever. Besides, I did hear the man was arrested. I’m quite certain justice will prevail.”

  “I’m relieved you’re so positive, Sister Mary.
Forgive me if I don’t see a light at the end of this dark tunnel.”

  Her heart twisted. She’d never known him to be like this. She’d met many men in her young life, but Gregg had been the one with the jovial attitude who could always make her laugh.

  She took his hand in hers and stroked his skin with gentle care due to his cuts. “I will help you all I can. Please know I am here for you whenever you need me.”

  After she’d said the words, she wondered why. Did she want to be here for him? She did want him to forgive the old Maddie, and if it took catering to his every whim, then she’d do it.

  “You are too kind, Mary.”

  “Sister Mary,” she reminded.

  The corners of his lips lifted slightly. “If you say so.”

  Even through his pain, he could still find humor. Perhaps he would recover soon after all. Then again, that might not be a good thing, especially until she could show him the loving and caring side of Madeline O’Neil.

  * * * *

  Gregg listened intently to the sounds around him. He knew Lord Drake’s bed wasn’t too far away since it squeaked every time his friend turned over. The nuns spoke in whispers, although he could still tell where they were in the room. By now, he’d guessed the room to be the size of the drawing room in his townhouse.

  Off and on throughout the day, singing could be heard from down the hallway as the nuns sang praises to God. He enjoyed the peacefulness settling in his chest during these moments. Yet at the same time, his future looked bleak. How could he run the newspaper as a blind man? Would he ever marry and have children? What was the point if he couldn’t see?

  “Drake? Are you awake?” Gregg asked, hoping his friend’s cot was nearby.

  “Yeah.”

  The weary tone of his friend’s voice tugged on Gregg’s heart. “How are you faring?”

  “Not as well as you, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m blind. How can you be worse?”

  “I might lose my leg from the middle of my thigh down or if infection settles in, I might die. At least you will still have use of your limbs.”

  Inwardly, Gregg groaned. “Forgive me, my good friend. I suppose I’m not thinking straight. How can I when I know it’s my fault for two of my employees dying and one of them being maimed?”

  “It’s not your fault.” Lord Drake’s voice tightened. “We chose to come here on our own free will, not knowing what we’d find.”

  “But what you don’t realize is if I hadn’t been looking for the next big story—”

  “Fielding, please stop. We can discuss who holds the blame all day and it will not make things better. We both have to admit we were at the wrong place at the wrong time—and deal with the consequences.”

  “That’s wise of you, Drake.”

  Silence stretched between them for a few awkward moments before Drake shifted on his bed, the ropes grinding against the steel bars under the mattress.

  “Do you know what keeps me from giving up?” Calvin said softly.

  “What’s that?”

  “My need to leave this place—walking—and healthy enough to find that devil of a man, McFadden and make him pay.”

  Gregg nodded. “Indeed. That thought has crossed my mind a time or two.”

  “I have heard whispers at night from the nuns.” Drake lowered his voice. “Apparently, Russian spies are rumored to be amongst the people in Scotland.”

  “Are you jesting? Why on earth would they be here?”

  “Because they would likely become captured if they were in England.”

  “True, but the war is over. What could they possibly gain from their foolery?”

  “Unless, like General McFadden, they have lost their mind. Or perhaps they are still upset for losing the war.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “But hearing about Russian spies got me thinking.” Calvin cleared his throat. “I wonder if we were targeted by the crazed McFadden…or by Russians.”

  An ache started pounding in Gregg’s forehead and he tried to rub his skull through all the bandages. “That’s an interesting theory, to be sure. Perhaps once we have recovered, we should look into this further.”

  “Agreed.”

  A lump formed in Gregg’s throat. At least this gave both of them a reason to keep going.”

  Nothing more was said, and Gregg concentrated on listening to the sounds around him. Calvin shifted on his cot one more time. Nuns still sang in the chapel. Footsteps from down the hall echoed. And even other sounds came from the hallway, like utensils clicking together. Then the aroma of roast duck filled his head, making his stomach grumble. The soft tap of shoes on the wooden floor grew closer, as did the scent of food.

  “Good evening, Mr. Fielding.”

  His heart lifted slightly. Sister Mary.

  He smiled. “By the smell, I’m assuming you’re bringing my meal?”

  “You are very acute.”

  He shrugged. “Just because I’m blind, doesn’t mean I cannot smell.”

  The light lift of her laugh was music to his ears. Better, in fact, than the choir of nuns.

  “Well, I have your tray of food, but it’s specially arranged.”

  “It is? How so?”

  “Let’s sit you up first, and I’ll explain.”

  She stuffed pillows behind him as he adjusted to a sitting position. Then she placed the tray on his lap.

  “The food on your plate is arranged so you’ll know what you’re eating,” she said. “Think of it like a clock. The top of your plate is twelve, noon.” She took his fingers and guided them around the plate without touching any food. “The side, here, is three o’clock, and the bottom is six. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with my meals?”

  “When I bring your meals, the food will be placed on your plate at noon, three, six, and nine o’clock. Your meat will be placed at six, your veggies will be at three, and your potatoes will be at noon. If there is a roll or bread, it will be at nine.”

  He smiled. “What a marvelous idea. Did you think of it yourself?”

  “No, I didn’t, but it was the way I was taught.”

  Her words didn’t make sense, unless... Oh good heavens! She couldn’t be, could she? “Are...you blind, too?”

  “No, but when I first came to the Abbey, I helped a woman who had been blind for years. She taught me this.”

  He breathed a heavy sigh. “I’m quite certain you were an apt pupil.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Just as you will be. And tonight, I will let you feed yourself. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds heavenly. Actually, I look forward to the task. You can’t image how bored I am.”

  She handed him a fork and brought it to his plate. Using both hands, he felt for the food, then carefully, shoveled it on his fork and slowly lifted it to his mouth. Her hands were there the whole time, guiding him. She didn’t treat him like an imbecile, but a man who needed to learn. His respect for her grew. He wasn’t doing very well, in his opinion, and he doubted he’d ever become a real man again.

  “Mr. Fielding, how are you faring today?” she asked after a few moments.

  “Not as well as I’d hoped. I fear I’ll be blind for the rest of my life. What good will I be then?”

  “You cannot say that. You will see again. I feel it in my heart.”

  “Sister Mary, please don’t patronize me. I know the women in London, and I know that they only accept offers from fine-looking gentlemen whose bodies are complete. And as you know, I am definitely not complete.”

  She touched his arm. “Mr. Fielding, you shouldn’t say things like that. It makes my heart break to hear those words come from your mouth. I seriously think that you’ll be able to see, but it’s going to take some time to recover.”

  “How can you believe that? The doctor told me I was close to the cannon, and yet you still say that I’m going to be all right? How can I be when I should be dead right now?”

  “Exact
ly. You should be dead, but you’re not. Your life was spared for some special purpose. How can you feel sorry for yourself when you should thank God for preserving your life?”

  “What life, Sister Mary?” His voice rose with anger as he sat forward.

  She took hold of his hand. “You’re alive, Mr. Fielding.” She squeezed his fingers. “You can really do anything you want, but you’ll have to work at it. God gave you a second chance, so I suggest you make the best of it. I personally know many extraordinary men who’ve overcome their disabilities and accomplished great things.”

  “Name one,” he snapped.

  Silence lasted for a few awkward moments. He’d put her in a predicament, and he knew it. But damn it, he wanted answers, and he wasn’t getting them.

  “Johann Sebastian Bach!” Her voice rose with enthusiasm. “He was orphaned at the age of ten and still, look what great work he accomplished with music.”

  He thought for a second then chuckled lightly. “That’s funny, I thought he was dead.”

  She grinned. “He’s dead now, but he accomplished many things before reaching the end of his life.”

  “Okay, since you’re so intelligent, who else can you think of?”

  “Ludwig Van Beethoven!”

  Gregg laughed loudly. “Oh, Beethoven, huh? Do you know him personally?”

  “No, I don’t, but you have to admit, for being deaf, he really put together some great symphonies.”

  It took him a moment, but he nodded. “True. You must enjoy music.”

  “Very much so, yes. I enjoy really good music, and both of these men are great artists.”

  “True.” He paused, and then asked, “Who else do you know?”

  “You,” she answered softly.

  The grin left from his mouth. “Me? I haven’t accomplished great things.”

  “Yes you have. You’ve escaped death. Now to me, that is the greatest accomplishment of all.”