Different voices came and went, and he wondered what was happening. The intense fog consumed his mind and he couldn’t understand anything around him. Fighting the pain in his skull, Nick struggled to open his eyes. A warm hand enclosed around his and squeezed. In soft tones, Gregg urged him to awaken as someone murmured a verse from the Bible.
Once Nick opened his eyes, white light pierced through his vision, so he quickly closed them. He’d felt as if he’d been trampled.
“Come on, Nick. Open your eyes. Talk to us. Let us know you’re all right.”
His brother’s voice coaxed him to try again. A strong pound hammered in his head, but he tried one more time look at his surroundings. He blinked and soon shadows turned into shapes, and faces appeared. The powerful light that nearly blinded him had disappeared. Gregg, Colonel Martin, and his uncle’s physician stood around his bed.
Gregg smiled. “Welcome back.”
The doctor patted Nick’s shoulder. “How do you feel?”
He tried to lift his arm to rub his forehead, but a band kept it against his body. He glanced down to see it in a sling. It was as if great weights secured his limbs, but at least he managed to move his fingers.
“What happened?” His voice came out in a hoarse, raspy whisper.
“Don’t you remember the carriage accident?” the colonel asked.
Nick squeezed his eyes closed and tried to think. He’d loaded his trunks and climbed in the carriage. Rain and wind had been heavy that night, but he instructed the driver to take him into London, to his office. Needing to be far away as soon as possible from the woman he would always love, he’d commanded his driver to go faster. Soon, his driver’s scream pierced the night, then came the rocking of the carriage, which threw him hard against the carriage door. That was the last Nick remembered.
He groaned. “Is Timothy all right?”
Silence lasted much too long, so he peeked at the men. All wore frowns. Nick’s heart clenched.
Gregg shook his head. “Your driver wasn’t as fortunate, Nick. He didn’t make it until the next morning before passing away.”
Turning his head on the pillow, Nick shut his eyes again, hoping to block everything out. Hoping the past would reverse so he could make things right. If he hadn’t pushed Timothy to drive so fast...
Gregg squeezed his hand again. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
Tears burned behind his lids, but he gritted his teeth and tried to control his emotions.
“Nick, there’s something else.”
He didn’t dare look. He didn’t even dare ask.
After a couple seconds of silence, Gregg cleared his throat. “Uncle Grant had another attack.”
The heaviness in Nick’s chest doubled, making it difficult to breath. All this because of my selfishness.
He swallowed to moisten his dry throat then looked back at his brother. “How is he faring this time?”
“Not so well.”
Nick took a ragged breath that hurt his ribs. “I must see him.”
Behind Gregg, the doctor shook his head. “Not until you have gained some strength.”
Even though it pained Nick to do so, he aimed his glare at the doctor. “Then tell me how to gain my strength so I may see my uncle before he dies.”
The doctor instructed Nick’s servant to fetch his broth, posthaste. For the next little while, Nick struggled with his pain as the physician poked and prodded, trying to find if bones were broke. He came to the conclusion that Nick’s arm had only been bruised. Yet Nick wanted to argue. His heart had been damaged as well.
Would he ever forgive himself for causing the driver’s death? And what of his uncle? Would Grant be on death’s door this very moment if Nick hadn’t tried to leave?
After eating one bowl of broth, he demanded more. Weariness overcame him as his stomach filled, but he fought to keep awake. He must see his uncle and apologize before he died.
He must make amends...if only for his own well-being.
* * * *
Rocking on her knees, Catherine held her sides and stared at her mother lying still on the kitchen floor. Humming a childhood song, she willed her parent to open her eyes. To breathe. To be alive.
How many hours passed, she didn’t know. Her legs grew numb, as had her mind. The moon disappeared and the sun’s morning rays shone through the window. Her mother’s blood seemed darker. Her face, paler.
Catherine’s stomach heaved and she turned her face to keep from retching. Instead, she lost it on the floor, splattering her legs and nightgown.
Tears streaked down her cheeks and her body shook with silent sobs. What had happened? If somebody had broken into their house and killed her mother, wouldn’t she have heard?
Slumping over her mother, Catherine allowed herself to cry out loud. The stench of blood assaulted her senses and the sticky substance clung to her skin. But she didn’t care. Right now she wanted to cry herself into oblivion.
The clip-clop of horse’s hooves drew her back to reality. Her heart pounded a quicker rhythm. Somebody was here. They could assist her.
She straightened and tried to stand, but her numb legs wouldn’t allow it. “Please help,” she screamed through a strained throat.
Keeping her attention on the door, she held her breath. A familiar figure walked in and stopped. Father. Right behind him stepped Hodgson. She broke down and cried a fresh set of tears...until she realized her father’s shocked expression had turned to one of loathing. Even her father’s servant had wide eyes staring accusingly at her.
Her father’s jaw hardened. His lips thinned. At his sides, he fisted his hands. A heated glare shot through his narrowed eyes. “What have you done, Cat?”
She shook her head. “I’ve done nothing. I awoke to find...this.” She motioned her hands toward her mother.
Hodgson gasped and fell to Catherine’s side, taking her in his arms. “Oh, my poor, poor, dear.” Tears gathered in his eyes and he shook his head.
Father blew out a deep breath and splayed his hands on either side of his head. “Who else but you would have killed her?”
She sniffed. “I...I’m certain I don’t know, but I didn’t kill her!”
Hodgson’s head snapped up as he aimed his glare at her father. “How dare you accuse your own daughter?”
“Hodgson, I do not need to hear your opinion. Trust me, I know what’s going on more than you do.” Father looked sternly at her again. “Everyone in town loved your mother. She had a huge heart and didn’t have one enemy. Who would want to kill such a kind woman?”
Catherine’s chest tightened – a different band tried to squeeze her breath this time. “What are you saying? You honestly think I did this?”
“You’re the only person who held ill feelings.”
She gasped, covering her mouth as she shook her head.
He continued. “You were upset at your mother and me because of your upcoming betrothal.”
“No...that’s not true.”
His bushy eyebrows drew together. “Don’t deny it, child. Tell me you didn’t wish us both dead for what we did.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she shook her head. Still beside her, Hodgson stroked her matted hair but kept silent. “I never wanted Mother dead,” Catherine said. “I only wanted to be released from the marriage agreement.” She glanced at her mother, then to the poker lying beside her still covered in blood. “No. I couldn’t have done this. I would have remembered.”
He wiped his moist eyes. “Get yourself cleaned. I’ll locate the constable. Hopefully, he won’t suspect you.”
This time her legs obeyed her as she dragged herself up the stairs to her room. Tears flooded her eyes, but she refused to wipe them away. Could her father be right? Could she have killed her mother? True, she’d been extremely upset when her parents informed her of her impending marriage, but she wouldn’t have killed. That wasn’t in her nature.
Why wouldn’t her father believe her? And what could she do to change his mind? Would
he ever believe?
The bedroom door banged shut, and Catherine bolted upright in the bed and grabbed her throbbing head. Only a dream...
Lately, the dreams of her mother were becoming more vivid, making her remember more. Making her feel much more heartache. Now was not the time for this, so why couldn’t she forget?
Her maid bustled around the room and readied Catherine’s clothes for the day. Although two days ago Nick had awakened and was doing better, she didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to face Gregg again...or Nick for that matter. Her heart couldn’t take it.
She snuggled back into her covers, pulling the sheet to her chin. “Emily, I don’t want to dress today. I want to remain in my room and have no visitors.”
Her maid frowned. “But Miss Catherine, you cannot. His Grace is asking to see you.”
Her heart leapt, then clenched. Would this be his farewell? She nodded and climbed out of bed. “Then we must not keep him waiting a minute longer.”
Emily dressed her so fast Catherine didn’t worry about her hair. But Emily chased her around the room brushing her long mane anyway. By the time Catherine headed out the door, she was somewhat presentable. She stopped abruptly in front of Grant’s bedroom door. Ian and Gregg stood in front with long and intense expressions.
“How is he?”
Gregg shook his head and met her wide questioning eyes. “He’s not good at all. He’s completely blind now.” He stopped when his voice shook with emotion.
“The doctor is with him then?” Her eyes watered.
Ian nodded. “Nick is with him also.”
Instead of having her heart quicken because of the knowledge she would see Nick again, relief washed over her. “Good. I’m certain it makes Grant feel better knowing Nick is here.”
Gregg shrugged. “I doubt Uncle Grant even knows. Our uncle has been in and out of consciousness all night and morning long. The pain is just too great for him to bear.” His voice cracked again and this time his eyes clouded over with tears.
Although she shouldn’t, she stepped up to Gregg and wrapped her arms around him. He needed comfort right now, regardless of how she felt. Gregg clung to her for support. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Tears leaked down her cheeks. Ian joined them, circling his arms around them both. They stayed this way until the doctor stepped out of Grant’s room, then they broke apart.
“How is he?” Gregg asked, wiping the moisture from his face.
The doctor shook his head, his frown saying it all. “I’m afraid he doesn’t have much time left. His illness has completely taken over, and in His Grace’s weakened condition, his frail body cannot fight back any longer.”
Catherine nodded. “Can I see him?”
“Yes. He’s been asking for you. Hopefully, he’ll stay conscious long enough to talk. He’s been in and out quite frequently because of the pain.”
She proceeded into the bedroom. Candles were lit around Grant’s bed, which made the room look as if death lurked in the shadows. Nick sat in a chair beside his uncle’s bed with his head bent, resting on his steepled fingers as if he were praying silently. Her heartbeat surged from seeing him again.
Slightly messed, his hair appeared longer than she remembered. She wanted to run to him, and take him in her arms. More than anything, she wanted to share in his grief.
She stepped closer and the floor creaked. Nick’s head snapped up. He looked at her with those beautiful deep green eyes, and her heart quickened even faster. They were sad eyes, even though his mouth turned up slightly into a welcoming smile.
“Hello, Kitty,” he greeted softly.
“Nicholas.” She stepped closer to the bed. She had to tear her eyes off his handsome form to look upon Grant’s sickly body. Her breath caught in her throat. The color of his skin looked almost the same pallor her mother had when Catherine had found her murdered.
“Oh, Nicholas,” she whispered brokenly. “How can he look so sickly when he has been so active lately?”
Nick stood and moved beside her. “It’s the way this particular illness works. That’s what the doctor told me anyway.”
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”
Although she wouldn’t meet Nick’s eyes yet, his stare was upon her. Taking a deep breath for courage, she turned and met his gaze. “How are you faring? You look better then you did right after the accident.”
He arched a brow. “You saw me?”
“Yes. Ian wouldn’t let me in your room, so I had to sneak in.”
His gaze traveled slowly over her face as if reacquainting himself with her features once again. “I’m feeling better.”
“And what about now? How are you handling everything?”
“I have prepared myself for this moment for a while and so I’ll be strong.”
“I wish your brothers were better prepared.”
“I don’t think they wanted to understand what was happening to our uncle.”
She glanced back at Grant. “I...I’ve...been worried about you, Nick. When I heard you’d been in an accident and almost killed...” Her voice broke.
He stroked his knuckles along the side of her face, bringing her gaze back to his. The color of his eyes was warm. He smiled. “It’s good to know you care.”
“Of course I care. After all we’ve been through, how could I not?” she whispered.
“You knew why I wanted to leave?”
She nodded. “I don’t blame you. At the time, I thought it was the right decision as well.”
Sadness touched his eyes. “My hasty determination caused such a traumatic effect. Timothy died, and now my uncle...”
She opened her mouth to reply but Grant’s moan stopped her. Both she and Nick rushed to the bed.
“Uncle Grant?” Nick asked lovingly. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Grant’s eyes remained closed as he shook his head. “Nothing.”
She sat beside him and took hold of his hand. “Grant? I’m here now.”
“Sophia? Is that you?” Grant’s voice rose in excitement.
Her heart dropped. “No, Grant, it’s Catherine.”
“Catherine? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in school? I’m not paying those teachers good money so you can gallivant all over England, you know.”
She snapped her attention to Nick. He shook his head, worried lines creasing his forehead. She looked back at Grant. “But Grant, I’m out of school, remember? When I turned nineteen they passed me.”
“No, no, young lady. Don’t be telling me stories. You are in your tenth and fourth year, so don’t think you are going to pull my leg with your fibs.”
Nick tugged on her arm and motioned with his head for her to come to the corner of the room with him. She followed. When they were far enough away from Grant, Nick shook his head.
“I think he’s lost his mind. When he talked to me earlier this morning, he talked as if I were still a young boy. Kitty, I think this illness has made him lose some of his memory.”
She sighed heavily. “I’ve noticed this lately, too, but then he’d come back to the present and everything would be all right.” She paused, then asked, “Now what do we do?”
His arms slid around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him for a hug, but only a loose one. “We’ll have to play along. There’s nothing else we can do.”
Her heart quickened, but she couldn’t let this comforting hug get out of control. Reluctantly, she pulled away. “All right. I’ll do it.”
For the rest of the day, Grant floated in and out of his memories of yesteryear, and everyone in the household went along. It was especially hard for Gregg and Ian and they left the room quite a few times with eyes filled with tears. Nick had tears, also, but bore it with his head held high.
Catherine only had a hard time when guilt overrode her feelings, which was quite a bit. Why couldn’t she have shown Grant more love? She’d promised Nick to make his uncle hap
py, but she’d failed because of her selfishness.
She took breaks during the day to rest or just to be by herself, riding her horse around the estate. She wasn’t the only one who needed this private time because she saw Gregg and Ian out at different times during the day as well, but Nick would not leave his uncle’s side.
After the dinner meal, she decided it was time to go upstairs and force Nick to take a few moments to be by himself. Gregg and Ian told her they weren’t planning on visiting with their uncle yet, so she decided to make Nick leave for a while.
She entered the room quietly and walked toward Nick. He still sat in the chair beside the bed, still in the same position he was earlier. The only thing different was his body shook with silent sobs. Standing in front of him, she touched his shoulder. He didn’t look up, but wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her as he cried.
She threaded her fingers through his long, raven black hair as she held his head. He held her tighter. Tears formed in her eyes and a lump grew in her throat.
“Nick?” she whispered in a tight voice. “You really need to be by yourself for a while.”
When his crying ceased, he pulled away and looked up at her. “He’s now back to when my father was still alive.”
“Oh Nick, no.” She caressed the side of his face lovingly, wiping away the tears from his cheeks.
“He thinks I’m a young boy, and he wants to talk to my father. I don’t know what to tell him.”
“Are you going to be all right?”
He took a deep breath and released it before nodding. “Yes. It’s just hard to see him this way.”
“I know. That’s why I want you to get away for a little while. It will do you a world of good. I promise.”
He stood closely in front of her. His hands had been around her waist but he moved them up over her arms, her shoulders and neck to the sides of her head as his thumbs gently stroked her skin. “You’re the only thing I need right now.” He bent his head and brushed his lips gently across hers in a soft kiss, then pulled away slightly. “But I do need a few minutes to be by myself. I won’t be very long, I promise.”
Love Me Always (The Fielding Brothers' Saga) Page 19
