“Robert’s tough, Taylor,” Jason offered.
She looked at Jason and gave a tiny nod. “You’ll survive, Robert,” she whispered, gazing down at Robert’s drawn face. “You’ll be restored to Shelby Manor.”
Blake prayed she was right.
Chapter 25
Jason helped Blake carry Robert up to a guest room as Taylor hurried along behind them. As they carefully placed him on the counterpane, Blake studied Taylor. Tears glistened on her face, yet no sound came from her. My God, what she’d endured. And there would be more to come, though he wouldn’t see it. He suspected where that thought came from. A whisper in his mind last night, solidified with the ringing gunshots this night. But he’d see her safe. And if that meant taking her to Sussex and away from him, so be it. He wouldn’t leave anything to chance now. Not with Trevor still free.
“I’ll send for the doctor,” Jason said.
With that, Jason took his leave. Taylor sat beside Robert, his slack hand held in hers. She’d swept off her cloak, and her hair floated around her pale face. Her lips moved in nearly silent prayer; now and again a soft word drifted to where Blake stood.
“He must live, Blake,” she said. “He must.”
Blake would say nothing at present. He’d never lied to her, despite her accusations of lies of omission. He wouldn’t start now. “Wait for the physician, Taylor.”
She nodded and returned to her vigil.
Jason arrived shortly with the doctor in tow, confusion clear on the second man’s face. Blake recognized him from his service to the Thompson family years ago. A bit shorter, a bit plumper, he still looked proficient.
“My Lord Blake,” the doctor said.
“Dr. Hendricks,” Blake said.
Efficient and circumspect, Blake didn’t worry that word of Robert’s injury would escape the finely-plastered walls of Jason’s home. The man bowed to Taylor and she leaned away from Robert to allow him access to his patient. Blake’s feet felt rooted to the spot. He watched as if from far away as Hendricks peered beneath Robert’s eyelids and listened close to his rattling chest.
The doctor then stood, gravity etched on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then turned to Taylor. “Miss . . . ?”
“Lady Thompson, Doctor,” Blake said. “Taylor is the patient’s sister. And my wife.”
Another bow, this one accompanied by a small smile. “I need to examine his body, Lady Thompson.”
Alarm rounded her eyes. “I hadn’t thought . . .” She began to wring her hands in that familiar gesture.
“Step behind the screen, Taylor,” Blake suggested.
A jerky nod and quick steps met his suggestion. She lowered her gaze and hid herself behind the ornate screen set beside the dressing room. Hendricks removed Robert’s shabby shirt and breeches. Blake recognized the remnants of his once fine clothing. It was all he could do to keep from gasping as Robert’s right leg was revealed. Angry red scarring lined the inside of the knee, and knots were visible beneath the filthy skin.
“My God, Blake,” Jason whispered. “Look at his leg.”
The limb was still swollen, and Blake doubted Robert would walk without a limp should God save his life.
“Ghastly injury, that,” the doctor murmured.
Blake threw a glance at the screen, knowing full well his wife listened intently from behind. “Hendricks.”
The doctor caught his meaning with that one word. He instructed the servant to bring hot water and towels. With Blake and Jason’s assistance, they soon had Robert’s body as clean as could be managed. Robert still dozed, this time a bit more peacefully.
“There’s nothing I can do for the leg.” He whispered. “Seems to have occurred some time ago.”
“Over two months ago, I’d wager,” Blake said.
The doctor shook his head. He covered Robert’s lower body with some linens. “You may join us, Lady Thompson.”
Taylor rushed from behind the screen. She gasped as she took in Robert’s frail form. A shadow of the big man he’d once been, his ribs protruded as he took in each labored breath.
“Oh, Robert,” she said.
Again Blake stood as a statue.
The doctor gave his comfort to Taylor, taking her hand in his. “He has an inflammation of the lungs, I fear. There is little we can do but ease his discomfort. And pray.”
Taylor nodded, her eyes huge.
Hendricks handed her a bottle of laudanum. “Pray, don’t hesitate to use what you will. He’s a big man despite his present condition.”
With the promise to return on the morrow, Hendricks followed Jason out of the chamber.
Taylor’s tears began to flow again as she sank onto the bed beside her brother. “I should have come looking for you, Robert. Father and I should never have believed the Watch.”
Blake flinched. He shouldn’t have, either. Feeling the fool, he turned and left the chamber.
* * *
Taylor watched the closed door for a long while, hoping Blake would come back. She knew him well enough to know that guilt ruled him now.
A butler came with a pitcher of water and a glass. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she straightened. With a silent nod, the man left her. Taylor mixed the laudanum into the glass and held Robert’s head. Easing the drink past his slack mouth proved more of a challenge than she’d imagined, but she did it. Again she looked toward the closed door. No matter. Her brother was her concern. Her hurt feelings over Blake’s defection wouldn’t enter her mind now.
She eased the sheets around Robert’s still limbs, finding an odd lump on his right leg. Throwing modesty aside, she peeked beneath the sheet. A scream tore from her throat as she saw his ruined leg.
“What is it?” Blake rushed into the room. “Taylor, don’t.”
“His leg, Blake,” she gasped. “However will he walk?”
Blake at last stepped near her. “Get him through his illness, love. Then we’ll worry about his leg.”
She nodded and replaced the sheet over him. Brushing her hair back from her face, she let out a sigh. “He’ll sleep now.”
As if almost against his will, Blake dragged her to him. She once more fell into tears, of fear and anguish, hope and fatigue. His big hands stroked her back and she relished the comfort. She raised her face to his and took his mouth. For a long moment his lips clung to hers, his body quaking with a show of control.
He set her from him and raked his fingers through his hair. “Go downstairs and have a bit of something to eat, Taylor.”
Taylor began to shake her head, but at last she yielded to his suggestion. She dropped a kiss on Robert’s brow and stroked the dull golden hair back from his forehead. “Sleep, brother.”
Blake dragged a straight-backed chair to the side of the bed and settled in to keep an eye on Robert. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes, friend.”
Her throat tight, she left the chamber.
* * *
Taylor sat at Robert’s bedside a few days later, his condition less grave but still worrisome. Dr. Hendricks had visited each day since Robert’s rescue, often twice. He’d suggested bleeding, but Blake had insisted that he’d lost enough strength as it was. Taylor had agreed. She’d never liked the practice of bleeding. It was not something the good country folk did, and Taylor had learned a great deal over the years from her father’s servants and the local villagers. She remembered their old cook using steam treatments and poultices for her father whenever he was ill, which had been often in recent years. And so they did the same for Robert.
She said a prayer of thanks for all that she’d learned from the kind villagers in Arundel and from her father’s loyal servants. When Trevor had shown up at Shelby Manor he had fired everyone. Nothing she said had made a difference. He did as he pleased, the rat. When he proceeded to bring in his strange cronies, Taylor realized there was no stopping him. She had already begun making plans to flee. And after that night, when he’d crawled into her bed, she had left. After Robert recovered, th
ey would see to setting everything aright. And all would be well once more.
The treatments for Robert’s lungs seemed to help. Some days she thought that every pot and kettle in Jason’s kitchens had been utilized to fill the chamber with warm, moist air. For the past three days, the guest room had felt like a steamy summer. She brushed a curled lock of hair back from her damp forehead and studied him closely.
The servants had seen to bathing her brother and keeping the linens clean and dry, despite the steam. Her poultices seemed to be helping as well. Combined with the steam, they filled the room with an eye-watering aroma. Blake and Jason seemed a little in awe of what she knew, but she shrugged her shoulders.
Blake walked in during one such poultice treatment. “Ah, another slathering of a magic potion you learned to make in that backwoods where you grew up, Taylor?”
“You and I both grew up in the same place, Blake.” She brushed the hair back from her brother’s brow. “While you and my brother here were busy making mischief, I was busy watching and learning.”
He laughed, easing the tension considerably which lightened her heart a bit. “You made just as much mischief as we did, if I recall. Remember when we had to pull you out of the lake on a fairly regular basis? I swear you had an affinity for the fish.”
She even chuckled now as she caught his eye. They had more than the passion they’d recently discovered. They had a shared history and the warmth of shared memories.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “You have a stronger constitution than I, love.”
She didn’t say anything more as he left. She loved him with all of her heart but right now she couldn’t ponder his feelings. Not while Robert was still so ill.
The white linen was but a shade lighter than Robert’s skin, but thankfully those high spots of color in his cheeks had faded along with his fever. He was lucid at odd moments, and now his eyes opened and regarded her with apparent confusion.
“Taylor,” Robert said. His voice was a croak, but a welcome sound to her ears.
“Oh, Robert,” she said. “Thank God you’ve come back to us.”
His blue-gray eyes flicked about the chamber. “Blake?”
“He’s in Jason’s office, seeing to some business.”
She knew little of what had occupied Blake’s time in the past few days. Aside from stopping in to check on Robert’s progress, he’d kept himself from her both day and night. Her emotional outburst, that foolish declaration of love he’d easily dismissed, still hung in the air between them. And aside from those few moments of levity remembering their childhood, they had shared little since finding her brother. Jason was forced to keep the conversations going at their evening meal, but even he had since quieted and begun to spend a lot of his time elsewhere.
Robert took in a shuddering breath and fell into a fit of coughing. The sound seemed looser and less severe, though that might be wishful thinking on her part.
She offered him a long sip of cool water, which he drank greedily. She had been plying him with water, tea, and warm broth, to bring his strength back. She indicated the bottle of laudanum. “Do you need a dose?”
He stubbornly shook his head. So like Blake.
“I prefer my wits about me,” he said.
His voice was stronger, thank the good Lord. “How does your chest feel?”
“Burns like the devil.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “We’re at Jason’s home?”
She nodded.
“In Sussex?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “His London townhouse.”
“But, why aren’t we . . . ? Where’s Father?”
Taylor reached for his hand, the sorrow fresh. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Father passed away in April, Robert. Not a month after you disappeared.”
Robert blinked back tears and he swallowed. “Father?”
Taylor began to cry herself. “Then Trevor moved in soon after. He began to act so oddly, Robert. I had to leave the manor.”
Robert reached a trembling hand to wipe away her tears. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you when Father passed.”
She wiped her cheeks furiously. “No, I must apologize for not searching for you right away!”
Robert blinked at her. “I don’t understand.”
“We believed what the Watch told us, Robert. Father and I. We should have known.”
“How could you have known?” her brother countered, his voice gentle now.
She sniffled and focused on his beloved face. “Do you remember nothing of your captivity?”
“I know that bastard Trevor put me there. Introduced himself as Martin that night, but I saw through his disguise soon enough.” A shadow came over his face and he shook his head. “That’s what earned me a dunk in the Thames, I wager.”
That still confounded her.
“Blake will take care of Trevor,” she said. “You’ll see.”
“I want to take care of him myself. I want to strangle him with my bare hands!”
“Hush, you are in no position to do anything of the sort. You must rest and get well.”
Robert nodded reluctantly, but curiosity soon lit those eyes. He always saw too much. “Why are you here with Blake, Taylor?”
How to tell him all of it? Of Trevor’s attack and her flight to The Hideaway? Of her affair with Blake that led to their marriage? Of the estrangement between them now?
“We’re married,” she said.
Astonishment caused his golden brows to rise. “When the devil did that happen?”
Taylor began to tell him how she came to be Blake’s wife.
* * *
Blake stood outside Robert’s sickroom, the murmuring of conversation warming him. Tenderness flowed between the siblings. He prayed once more for Robert to heal and heal quickly. Taylor’s brother would be able to care for her once Blake left.
In the days since finding his friend, Blake had thought of little but seeing Taylor safe and far from him. She’d balk—or perhaps not, since their argument regarding her feelings and his. There would be little served by telling her of his true feelings. She was better off in Sussex, a place into which he’d never willingly venture in the foreseeable future. As for Trevor . . .
Trevor was not in Homerton. A note from the vicar confirmed that none in the village had seen him. Was he happily ensconced at Shelby Manor? An informant of his in Sussex wrote that he hadn’t been seen in weeks. That left London, a bloody big town to search.
Taking Blake at his word to keep him out of any disclosures to the Watch, Reggie was long gone. But not before Blake could pass on a bit of misinformation for Trevor’s ears. Blake could only hope that Reggie shared the news with his former employer before leaving for parts unknown.
Blake rapped on the door and entered. “Robert. At last you are among the living.”
Taylor wore a flush on her cheeks, though he couldn’t guess if the reason was embarrassment or the clouds of steam that hung in the air. She busied herself with tidying the linens as Blake came closer to the bed.
“What are your plans, Blake?” Robert asked.
Robert’s weary eyes held conviction. Anything short of justice wouldn’t serve. He glanced at Taylor, who came to her feet.
“I’ll see to a bit of food,” she said. Tenderness filled her lovely eyes as she gazed at her brother. “You’ll mend, brother. I know it in my heart.”
With that, she left the chamber. Blake found Robert’s pointed gaze upon him. “How did you come to be wed to my sister?”
“Circumstances presented themselves—”
“Don’t think me a fool.” A few coughs gave Blake a too-short reprieve. “I want to know all of it, but perhaps you should start with why she’s so miserable.”
There was nothing else for it. “I believe I preferred you unconscious.”
“Never mind,” Robert said. “Tell me.”
“After your father—” Blake began. “You know of that, I t
ake it.”
Robert gave a small nod, his eyes clouded. No doubt Taylor had broken that dismal bit of news in the kindest manner possible. Blake gave his brother-in-law an edited version of Taylor’s flight from Sussex and subsequent arrival at The Hideaway. Leaving out his seduction, he insisted there was little else he could do but marry her.
“She’s not happy,” Robert said.
Blake stared at the chair Taylor had recently vacated. “She believes we’re meant to be together.”
“But you’re wed, aren’t you?”
“She’s safer away from me. Away from here,” Blake said. “At least until Trevor is caught.”
Robert snorted and closed his eyes.
“Dismissing me, are you?” Blake asked.
Robert opened his eyes to glare at him now. “I want Taylor safe as well but I don’t want her heart broken. She has always had tender feelings for you, Blake. I saw that myself. Now the girl loves you and you’re a fool if you don’t return those feelings.” His mouth twisted as he blew out a breath. “Which I suspect you do. You’re just too much of a bloody fool to admit to it.” Robert let his lids drift downward again as he answered. “I won’t waste any more of my precious breath on you.”
Blake couldn’t argue with him, not in his weakened state. Robert was as shrewd as ever. If Blake remained in the room any longer, Robert would certainly find out the truth of it. He decided to make a hasty exit.
“I’ll leave you to your luncheon.” Blake stood. “You’ll mend, as Taylor decreed. And Trevor will feel our justice.”
Robert eyed him then. “But will you feel the right of other matters?”
Blake said nothing to that and left the man to his sister’s care.
* * *
Robert’s color was much improved when Taylor entered his chamber the next morning. Last evening he’d eaten a good amount of the beef broth and stewed apples she’d brought him, and only a few coughs interrupted his meal. His breathing had been easier when last she checked on him in the wee hours, and she hoped Dr. Hendricks’s prognosis would confirm her hopes.
A Hero and A Gentleman Page 24
