Page 37 of The Ones Left Behind
“And why not, Major, if it’s true?” Hornsby had perfected impudence.
Matthias simply shook his head. He hobbled over to the paddock rail and leaned against it.
“Don’t you think you might be good enough to go home yet? We have been here nearly a week,” the batman asked.
Matthias did not know if he was ready to go back. There was something peaceful and simple about being here at the lodge. At home, there were complications. Nevertheless, he knew he could not avoid Kitty forever. “I need to learn how to do stairs,” he answered, rather than face reality just yet.
“Then inside we go. You ain’t going to learn them out here.”
Stairs were impossible. It was precarious enough having to balance one’s weight on the crutches, but to do it on such a small platform, with the knowledge it meant certain death if you failed? Matthias lost his courage after attempting the first step about ten times. “I think I had better wait until I can put weight on this leg.” He sank down on to the second step and leaned against the banister, his arms and legs shaking from exertion.
“Aye,” Hornsby agreed. “But then it means you can no longer avoid going home, or at least admitting why.”
“It is complicated,” Matthias said. “It is not so simple as accepting I may never walk or ride again. Returning here brings back memories of a different life, one that held hope and possibility and now reminds me of all I have lost.”
Hornsby just stared at him.
“I fear I have gone maudlin. ’Tis what you deserve for asking.”
“You may be forgiven a little of that,” Hornsby said, “but I think you will a walk again and perhaps even ride. Just consider how much you have improved in a few days. I believe Mrs. Gordon’s remedies are helping. You have drunk barely one bottle of brandy in the entire week.”
Matthias eyed him, looking sideways without turning his head. Perhaps that was true. Even with the extra exercise, he had not needed to drown himself in liquor.
“You will have to deal with her, you know. You cannot ignore her forever.”
Matthias snorted. “You think I do not know that? Do you understand what it was like to see her married to Peter? Every day, for three long years, I was jealous of my best friend! And then for two years she preferred to starve than ask for my help. Even now she is only here because she had no other alternative.”
“It is clear she cares for you, Major,” Hornsby said quietly.
“But only as a brother.”
“Does she know how you feel? Mayhap she cherishes warmer thoughts but does not feel she has the right to tell you. Have you considered trying to woo her? If I may be frank—”
Matthias snorted. “When have you ever jibbed at that?”
“I never could abide mealy-mouthed fools,” he said simply. “What I have heard pass between you would not make me think you had tender feelings…”
Matthias had had enough and did not wish to delve deeper into the matter. He forced himself up on to his good leg and hobbled away. “Let us be gone, then.”
He scrambled out onto the portico in his ungainly manner and waited for Hornsby to pack up their belongings and harness the horses to the carriage.
Walking into a room with a smooth, confident gait would never happen again, he reflected. Instead, he would receive looks of pity. Of all the things he had taken for granted, he had never considered how it might be to be crippled! Much though it grated, Hornsby was right about many things. The batman had never held from speaking his mind, and knowing he could trust Hornsby’s advice was better than a purse of gold.
Now he had to become reconciled with his feelings for Kitty or he was doomed to misery. Could Hornsby be right? Had he been nothing but a boor to her? Would she be more receptive to him if he treated her the way he wanted to? He did not know if love was possible. If she had loved Peter as he himself loved her, there might not be room for that kind of romance in her heart... but Matthias needed to marry—needed a proper heir—and he had never been able to consider anyone else for his wife.
It would certainly mean swallowing his pride. He knew she loved him as a brother and at one time he had thought she returned his feelings. Then doubt had replaced the anger he had initially felt at her marriage and he had remembered her also laughing and dancing with Peter. Had she kissed him the same way too—whispered promises with him in the way she had with Matthias? He would not have thought her capable of duplicity, but the pain of seeing her with Peter had been worse than anything he was experiencing now.
He sighed. It was all in the past and it was time he allowed it to stay there. Peter was dead and the two of them had only each other now. The thought of her leaving again was untenable.
What would it take to convince her to have him? The thought of her as his servant was ridiculous. ’Twas more than ridiculous—preposterous, provoking, infuriating—soul-crushing.
Maybe he could do everything in his power and still might not change her mind. He looked down at himself. Clothed and still, he did not appear too different—because no one could see the scars. Somehow, he did not think Kitty would care about that.
But what did she care about? What would it take to change her mind?
“What are you thinking about, Major? You look as if you were back on the Peninsula, plotting the downfall of the Frogs,” Hornsby said, having brought the carriage around and pulled the horses to a stop.
“I was plotting a strategy,” Matthias confessed with a wry look.
