Page 70 of The Ones Left Behind
She stilled, waited and then watched as the men moved forward. The door groaned loudly on its hinges as if it were angry for being disturbed in such a fashion. It opened, to be immediately followed by a sudden burst of light as lanterns were brought forth from their coverings. It was an effective disarming technique, as Kitty had just experienced.
She waited with bated breath, but nothing happened.
Philip moved inside and she could see the lantern being lifted as though he was searching the interior, shadows and flames flickering and dancing off the curved walls, and domed ceiling. There was still no sound of Henry. Without conscious thought, she moved forward, fearing the worst. She began to shake, but could not stop her forward momentum.
Philip appeared at the door. On seeing her, Waverley also approached the entrance, perhaps to stop her from seeing something horrific.
“Is he…?” Her throat choked on the word.
Philip shook his head. “Henry is not here.
“What?” she asked, rudely brushing by him to look for herself. Indeed, the folly was empty save for spiders and animal droppings. There were a few signs that he had been there—a clearing in the dust and some refuse—but he was, most definitely, gone.
“I must have scared him away... but where could he have gone?” Then realization struck her. “Matthias! He has gone after Matthias!”
Philip and Waverley looked at each other and gave a nod. Kitty did not wait for them to respond and hastened back down the path as quickly as she dared. Other footsteps followed closely behind her, lanterns now uncovered to light the way. At least this time she did not meet with as much vegetation to tear her to shreds, she thought gratefully. Once she was back on level ground, she ran as fast as her feet would carry her. The blood roared in her ears and pains in her side threatened to steal her breath yet she scarcely paid it credence. Nothing compared to how she would feel if Henry harmed Matthias.
Please God, do not let us be too late,she prayed over and over in her mind as she ran.
How stupid she had been! She knew Henry quite well enough to realize he would not have stayed hidden in the folly once he had been discovered. Yet would he truly kill his own brother?
The path seemed to grow longer instead of shorter, but she could not stop to rest.
CHAPTER19
Matthias had only moved as far as the study since the others left the drawing room. Hornsby had reluctantly left him there with the decanter and a stool for his leg. It was torture, knowing his friends were attending to his business for him. Despite several glasses of brandy, he was still entirely too lucid.
He had listened as the group had gathered and set out to the folly, and he sat waiting, watching the clock tick time away in slow, rhythmic agony. Like a ship on a stormy night, his mind vacillated back and forth between wondering what was happening at the folly and remembering Kitty’s sweet kisses.
His leg ached from having been on the horse earlier, then walking all over the estate. Muscles he had never known existed screamed their displeasure at him. Recklessly, he untied his splint. Thus far, he had only taken it off for minutes at a time to bathe, trying to follow Dr. Beverly’s instructions perfectly. However, this felt like freedom. Muscles relaxed that had been constricted and confined. It made him think of ladies with their corsets and the suffering they put themselves through for beauty.
Gingerly, he raised his leg, bending it towards his chest with slow, shaking movements. It was an exquisite kind of pain to move the leg again. He repeated the movement two more times, up and down. Feeling bolstered by his success, he wanted to try walking—just a few steps. It was time to try. He wanted to be whole again for her. He needed to be.
Easing forward, he placed his hands on the arms of the chair, his feet on the floor, and pushed up, keeping his weight on his good leg. Once steady, he allowed his weight to distribute evenly. The blood seemed to rush to his leg, and he wondered if he should wait until Hornsby was there to catch him.
“Have courage,” he muttered before moving the leg forward. It was more of a shuffle than a step. “I feel like an infant.” He brought the other leg forward, and when he shifted his weight, the leg collapsed from under him and he landed in an excruciating heap on the floor. Sweat broke out across his forehead.
Cursing his idiocy, he leaned back against the chair and allowed the shooting pain to subside.
“Well isn’t this a charming scene?”
Startled, he looked towards the door. “Henry.”
“At your service.” His brother made a dramatic bow. He looked like the fugitive he was: completely dishevelled and dirty, with several weeks’ worth of beard. Matthias could smell him from where he was.
“Kitty said you wished to see me,” he announced in an irreverent voice.
Kitty had also said Henry wanted him dead and here Matthias was, in a most vulnerable position, in a heap on the floor and nothing to hand with which to defend himself.
“I had hoped to find you and help you before Worth did,” Matthias said carefully as he tried to inch himself back and lift himself up into the chair.
“Shall I help you?” Henry asked, watching with evident amusement.
“No, thank you.” He gave up and remained on the floor.
“I was told you were dead,” Henry said bluntly.
“As you can see, I am very much alive,” Matthias answered, trying to keep all sarcasm and bitterness from his voice. “Come in and have a drink with me.” Matthias held out the decanter to share.
