Page 15 of The Ones Left Behind
Matthias still had a voracious appetite.I’m making up for over a month without food, he justified to himself. He was not fat yet, at least, but still much weaker than he would like.
When Hornsby returned, he was determined to assist in his transportation outdoors.
Hornsby had brought two footmen with him. “I do not wish to be carried, Hornsby,” Matthias said.
The batman’s eyes narrowed. “Dr. Beverly said you were not to put weight on that leg for weeks.”
“I heard the man,” he bit out savagely. “However, if I lean on you, I still have one good leg. The same as I have been hobbling on out of my chamber.”
Hornsby was shaking his head.
“Thomas and David may follow.”
“Mrs. Gordon will beat the daylights out of me.”
“You are more afraid of her than you are of me?” Matthias asked with disbelief. It had been her suggestion!
“The first role of being a servant in any house is to keep the ladies happy,” Hornsby explained. “Besides, she ain’t too good to dirty her hands.”
“She should never have had to,” Matthias retorted bitterly, wondering how he had lost control over his own household. Too many servants would see work as a fault in a lady, but Hornsby had known Kitty in the Peninsula, and it was a different matter entirely. Matthias wanted to know what she had been doing for the past several days, but he was afraid to ask. She had not visited him again.
“How has she been fitting in?” he grumbled as he took a quick swig of brandy before trying to move again.
Hornsby narrowed his eyes at the spirits, the impertinent rogue, but Matthias knew he understood.
“Mrs. Harlow is allowing her to perform a few of her usual duties, but she is not pleased about it.”
“Is she making her displeasure obvious?”
“I have witnessed little of their converse, but of course, there is talk among the lesser servants.” He sniffed, as if such behaviour were beneath him.
“Make it stop.” As though Hornsby had the power to do so, Matthias reflected ruefully. Still…
The batman shook his head and removed the tray and table out of the way.
Matthias put his arms on the sides of the chair and hefted himself upright. Eyes closed, he waited for the wave of nausea to pass and then held out an arm for Hornsby. They—he—hopped and hobbled through the door out to the landing above the stairs. He could not do it. That short jaunt had left him feeling as though he had been pummelled in ten rounds by Gentleman Jackson himself.
He stopped to catch his breath, but knew he was beaten.
Hornsby waited for his order. “My lord?”
“I cannot.”
“Well, I would not have reckoned you could come this far, so that’s something innit?”
A grunt of annoyance was all the answer he could give the valet.
“Thomas, David and I will put you in a chair and carry you down the stairs. Why not let us?”
Thomas stepped forward with the offending object to prove Hornby’s point.
Matthias grabbed the railing and looked to the ceiling. He wanted to bellow with frustration.
“You cannot expect to make a recovery overnight,”hervoice said coolly from behind him.
“And why not?” he growled. Something about her made him angry. Was it because she reminded him of everything he had lost? Was it her calm? It was hardly fair, but he could not seem to help himself.
“I assume that is a rhetorical question or shall I attempt to explain basic laws of nature and make us both sound like fools?”
