Page 20 of The Ones Left Behind
Matthias was disturbed by two things. One, where was Kitty? And two, she had commissioned something for him?
The man unwrapped his parcel and stood it before Matthias. “Is that a crutch?” Matthias had seen some of the disabled veterans using such things before. Had he not just been thinking he could use one?
“Yes, my lord. Miss Kitty drew a sketch of it and afforded me with your measurements. Said she had seen such on the Continent, used by some of the injured men. She thought as how maybe it would help you get about whilst you recover.”
Matthias took the piece of polished wood and fingered it gently, despite it being strong enough to bear a grown man’s weight. This was about shoulder high and had a special bar for his hand to hold on. He did not know whether to be touched by her thoughtfulness or crack it over something in frustration for his situation.
“Do you do you know how to use it, my lord?”
“I suppose I do. I have also seen what she speaks of.”
“Very good, then. If you have any further need, please do not hesitate to contact me.” The man put a small card on the great mahogany library table, bowed and left.
Matthias watched the door close behind the man and was filled with curiosity and a tinge of hope. Would he be able to get about, even now, with this contraption?
He pulled his way forward to the edge of the sofa, pain shooting through his leg with any contraction of it. Once vertical, however, he would not be required to move it.
He used the arms of the chair to push himself up and broke out into a cold sweat from that movement alone. Standing for a moment, he tried to catch his breath, and then reached for the crutch. Having positioned it on his arm, he thought about the movement. Slowly, he took one step forward…and collapsed into a heap on the floor, cursing his clumsiness.
“What the devil are you doing?” Hornsby asked as he burst into the room, the tray in his hands at a precarious angle.
“I think I need a second crutch,” Matthias said, looking up sheepishly.
* * *
When Kittyfinally felt sufficiently composed to return to the house, Hornsby sought her out and explained what had happened during her absence.
“I left his lordship in the study long enough to fetch him a tray. While I was gone, Mr. Bailey delivered the crutch you ordered. That was a very kind gesture, Mrs. Gordon.”
Kitty could feel her cheeks warm under the praise. “I wish only for him to be back on his feet as soon as may be. You know well how difficult it is for him to be idle.”
“That I do, ma’am. But I thought you should know, that as I was returning with his tray, I heard a heavy thud, and when I opened the door, I found him huddled on the floor.”
“Oh, good gracious!” she exclaimed. “Is he harmed?”
“No,” the batman replied, “thankfully not. He was laughing at his clumsiness but he does think he could use a second crutch so as to balance the weight.”
“Oh, of course. I had not considered that. I had the intention of going to the village in the morning, so I will call upon Mr. Bailey and ask him to make another.”
“I thank you, ma’am.” Bowing, the manservant turned to leave. Kitty stopped him.
“Hornsby, do you think his lordship would try some herbal remedies if I prepared them? Or would I be on a fool’s errand?”
“I think, ma’am, that if anyone could persuade him to take them, that person is you.”
Kitty gave a nod. “Will you please try to see that he does not receive too many spirits?”
Hornsby hesitated. “That will be somewhat more difficult, ma’am. Most of the servants will do as he asks, of course.”
“Then, as the new housekeeper, I will speak to the butler. I refuse to allow him to drink himself to death.”
“I fear, if his lordship commands, not even Mr. Hayes may gainsay him. Nevertheless, I will do my best to help.”
Early the following morning, there were tearful goodbyes as Mrs. Harlow took her leave.
“Take good care of him and write if it isn’t too inconvenient,” the elder woman said. “I still think it is a shame you aren’t the lady of the house, but I know you’ll do your best by him.”
“I will,” Kitty said, trying not to cry as Mrs. Harlow climbed in to the travelling coach.
