Page 18 of The Ones Left Behind
The sun was beginning to fall in the sky by the time she returned to the house, but instead of going inside, she found her way to the herb garden. She wound her way through the familiar plants and flowers, pleased she could still recognize the three she had put to memory. There had to be something here that could help him. But would he accept her help? She still didn’t know what he meant by all of his words.
He had never before spoken to her thus; in fact, he had always been there to support her, especially once Lady Thackeray had died and Lord Thackeray had decided to turn against her. Matthias had always been her champion…until now.
If nothing else, she owed it to him to support him through his recovery and ensure he did not drink himself to death.
“Miss Kitty?”
Kitty started, looking up from the daisy she held, the petals of which she had completely plucked off.
“Mrs. Harlow. Is something amiss?” Thoughts flashed through her mind of Matthias throwing himself into the lake and being unable to swim.
“I was worried about you. You have been gone for hours.”
Kitty nodded. “His lordship and I argued.”
“Was it about me? Because he told me I could leave.” She worried her apron.
“Good. I am happy for you. You deserve a peaceful retirement.” She did not wish to reveal any more of their argument. It would not make her leave. Kitty would be much busier with the housekeeper gone and the task of helping Matthias would be easier.
CHAPTER6
He was a blackguard. Matthias thumped his fist on the arm of the chair. No matter how frustrated he was, he should not take it out on Kitty. She had lost her husband and friend and he had been cruel. No gentleman would ever mention what happened on the battlefield.
Leaning his head back over his chair, he stared up at the leaves blowing in the soft breeze overhead, hanging from the branches they had been used to climb as children.
But they were children no more.
Why was she being so difficult? He could easily provide for her elsewhere—somewhere she could be happy and comfortable. Of a certainty, staying there with him would not be comfortable.
Did she not realize how he felt about her—how it had been torture to see her marry their best friend?
He groaned. If he did not agree to her scheme, she was obstinate enough to leave with nowhere to go. Curse her stubbornness! He wanted to drown himself in pity. He would have to let her stay, but he did not have to like it. Perhaps if he pensioned off Mrs. Harlow, then Kitty would be too busy to cause him undue bother.
That decision made, he tried to allow himself to sleep but his leg throbbed in tempo with his heartbeat. If she objected to him drinking, what did she expect him to do instead? He took a small sip from his flask—much smaller than he wished for. That should at least make her happy. He was able to drift into a fitful sleep, but even there he could not escape the memory of Kitty.
“My lord?”
He felt the tap on his shoulder. “My lord?”
Matthias opened one of his eyes to see Hornsby leaning over him. “There is no need to hover!”
The batman grunted. “I thought you were dead, there, for a moment. You’ve never been hard to wake up before.”
“I am awake now. What is it you want?”
“It is time to go back to the house, sir. Cook has made your favourite minced pie.”
“I cannot stomach food now. I am tired of sitting in this spot, though.”
Hornsby bent over and picked him up.
“Now I am to suffer this indignity as well,” he grumbled. Although, he reflected sourly, Hornsby was as strong as an ox. He could bear the weight.
“Where to, my lord?” Hornsby asked as the front door opened for them.
“My study. And send Mrs. Harlow to me.”
Hornsby deposited him on the sofa in the study. It had been his father’s sanctum, but Matthias had worked hard to put his own stamp on it. His relationship with his father had deteriorated after what he had done to Kitty, and Matthias had never quite forgiven him for it.
