Page 63 of A Duke Under Her Spell
“Someone broke into my home and ransacked it looking for something. I know not who.”
“That is most disconcerting. Were you harmed?”
“Nay, I hid and escaped notice.”
Alexander nodded. “I am glad to hear it but am concerned for your future safety. Perhaps…” he began but was cut off by Marybeth’s refusal of aid.
“I do not wish for anything from anyone,” she stated clearly so as not to have left it open to interpretation, then turned to helping Stephen. “Now let us see what can be done for you,” she stated with a smile of reassurance for her patient. No matter what was going on inside of her own mind she did her very best to provide those she cared for with a smile and a gentle touch. Turning to Alexander she requested the necessary supplies that she would need, including hot water. “Is Lord Enfield in?”
“Nay, he is not. Do you need him?”
“Most certainly not! I simply wished to know for my own peace of mind.”
“That is understandable,” Alexander conceded, he bowed ever so slightly as if in apology, then went to order the servants to bring the proper supplies for Stephen’s care. He returned and stood over Marybeth watching her examine Stephen’s wounds. “It looks bad,” he murmured, concern for his brother tinging his voice.
“Indeed, it does,” Marybeth agreed quietly. “Have you been doing as I instructed?”
“Of course,” Alexander nodded his head in affirmation. “We would not dare to do otherwise and risk our brother.” Alexander’s love for Stephen was clear in his tone. The fear in his eyes at the thought of losing his brother was genuine.
He is not at all as his father is… as our father is,she corrected herself, disgusted at the thought of Lord Enfield’s blood flowing through her own veins.
A shuffle at the doorway notified them that the servants had brought her requested items. Marybeth set to work attempting to save Stephen’s life, blocking out all else around her in order to overcome her own fear and insecurities about being in her father’s house. When she had finally finished with cleansing the wound, she looked up to find all of the brothers standing at the foot of the bed watching her.
“Will he live?” one of them asked, his eyes boring into hers searching for answers.
“I will do my best,” she promised, “but only time and care will reveal whether he lives. It is good that he has all of you to look after him.” Alexander extended her the cup of willow bark tea that he had made while she worked on cleansing Stephen’s wounds. She pressed it to Stephen’s lips and attempted to get as much of it into him as was possible given his fevered state. He fought her in his delirium and Alexander moved around to hold him steady while she poured the tea down Stephen’s throat.
Marybeth stayed by Stephen’s side all day and all night waiting for the fever to break. She did everything within her power to save him, but alas in the end it was not enough. In the wee small hours before the dawn, Stephen slipped away, leaving her to mourn the brother she had never been allowed to know. He died with his brothers ringing the bed, each having said goodbye the best they could given his unconscious state.
Alexander stepped forward, tears in his eyes and laid an arm around Marybeth’s shoulders, pulling her into a teary embrace. Marybeth cried out all of her fear and loss into her brother’s shirtfront. “You fought well and for that I thank you.”
“I only wish it had been enough,” she whispered, swiping at the tears on her cheeks.
“As do we all, but ye are a healer, not God. Whether a man lives, or dies is not always within your power to give.”
“’Tis true, as much as I regret it. I should go,” Marybeth whispered pushing herself away from his comforting arms. His tender brotherly affection had been a pleasant surprise for her.
“That is probably best, before Father returns. He is not an understanding man and he will not take losing his heir well.”
“Now you are the heir of Enfield.”
Alexander nodded sadly. “And a more reluctant heir there never was,” he admitted. Marybeth squeezed his arm in sympathy and then set to gathering her supplies. She did not wish to be present when Lord Enfield returned. “Shall I escort you home?” Alexander offered. “I do not care for the notion of what you told me transpired in your croft. A woman should not live alone in the forest without protection. Will you not be returning to Arkley Hall?”
“No, I shall not be returning there. As much as it frightens me, I must return to life as it once was. I will find my own way home. You should be here with your family.”
“Our family,” Alexander reminded gently.
One of the other brothers stepped forward. Marybeth thought his name was Thomas. He pulled a pistol from the side table drawer and handed it Marybeth. “It was Stephen’s. He would want you to have it.”
Alexander nodded in agreement and pulled out a small bag with required supplies to fire it. “Should your intruder resurface, do not hesitate to use it.”
“Should you need do so come and find one of us. We will help you to properly dispose of the body,” Thomas advised.
“Should I not simply alert the magistrate?” Marybeth asked in surprise.
“No, dear sister, Thomas is right. You should not go to the magistrate. As you are aware, it could be one of our own father’s men, and that would not go well for you should he find out,” Alexander warned.
“How is one to go on like this?” Marybeth asked, not knowing where to turn or who to trust after everything that had happened.
