Page 76 of Love Unraveled
“I have forfeited my holdings, except for Salinger House, which I cannot. I am indebted to men who…” His voice trailed off.
“Who?” she prompted.
“Whom I would prefer to no longer deal with. It is past time I left the country. It was my intention to marry you and politely disappear. But you have ruined my plan.” He pinched his forehead and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “Enough talk. Go to sleep.”
“But I don’t understand—”
“You don’t have to understand.” He took a sip of ale, and his face contorted. “Swill!” he roared and drew his arm back, whipping the tankard at the wall.
A chill ran through her body. She understood men, knew how to manipulate them, steer them where she needed them to go. But the duke was gone, and she did not know what to do with the wide-eyed man now raving mad over bad ale. Realization struck her as though she’d been slammed in the stomach.
Mon Dieu! The duke’s actions were not born of need or even desperation. Nor was he simply temporarily not in his right mind. The man was insane.
Chapter Fifty-Five
No, I’ll not weep:
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or ere I’ll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!
—Shakespeare,King Lear
Laurence took charge.He made Drake carry Harris to his bed. The butler had groggily awoken, and a maid had returned only to be sent off immediately to fetch a doctor. Gaston had wanted to head straight out, but Laurence had convinced him to wash and change first, while Laurence interrogated Drake.
Gaston did so quickly, going mad with the scent of Sophie in the room, her jeweled gowns hanging casually as though it was any other day. His head ached. Although it had slowed, the gash still dripped blood. He pressed a folded handkerchief to it and strolled through the bedroom. The rumpled sheets made him want to sit and weep. He stood still for a few minutes, allowing his fear to transform into anger. Anger was an emotion he could handle.
There was satisfaction in seeing Drake bound as Gaston had been. From the red marks and the split lip gracing Drake’s swelling face, Laurence was a none-too-gentle interrogator. Gaston’s satisfaction grew. He would like to have a go at the man himself, but he was slightly dizzy.
Laurence stood and walked to him. “Let me see.”
Gaston pulled back the cotton cloth, and Laurence whistled through his teeth. “You are not going anywhere.”
“It is nothing. Let’s go.” He wobbled slightly but forced his shoulders back, willing himself to stand tall.
Laurence studied him. “I’ll not have you traipsing after me and dying somewhere on the road. So you can come as long as you get your head seen to.”
“And him?”
“Your maid had a second errand. She should have delivered my message by now. There will be someone here soon to take over.”
Gaston did not know why this man had miraculously appeared and was about to ask, when there was a rap on the front door. Laurence disappeared and returned with the doctor. The man looked at Gaston, then glanced at Drake before returning his attention to Gaston.
“Sit,” the doctor said calmly as though he saw men tied up and bloodied every day.
Gaston did not need to be asked twice. The doctor worked quietly, the sting of a solvent nothing compared to the pain. It was as though someone had cleaved his head with an ax. The doctor pulled several items out of his case and looked at Laurence. “A bucket, then mix this tonic.”
“No laudanum,” Gaston said, flinching as the needle pierced his flesh and the doctor tugged the thread through. He’d had laudanum when his leg had been lanced, and his brain had been useless for days.
“Not laudanum. Ground cinchona. It won’t erase the pain, but it should dull it.”
Laurence appeared with an empty coal bucket and went out of sight again. The doctor was a man of few words and said nothing further as he stitched Gaston’s scalp. Gaston closed his eyes, but Sophie danced before him, and he could not bear it, so he opened them again.
The doctor tugged one last time as he knotted the thread. He handed Gaston the bucket. Gaston took it, looking at the man questioningly. Seconds later, his gut swirled, and he retched, vomiting repeatedly until there could be nothing left in his stomach. When he was through, the doctor handed him a dampened linen and removed the bucket.
Gaston wiped his mouth. “You’ve done this before,” he said quietly.
