An Affair of Honor (Rebel Hearts Book 2) (18 page)

They left him to line up on the dance floor. Deacon was well over six feet, and next to Matilda he appeared a veritable giant. Matilda swirled her skirts a little as the musicians tuned their instruments. A cotillion began, and William moved closer, keen to watch how Matilda did with the dance. She fascinated him. She was very graceful, which had at first surprised him. When they had practiced at home, he had quickly come to the conclusion she might have taken lessons before entering service.

About her former life she was reluctant to speak. Anything he found out, he’d had to pry out of her carefully.

Even with Deacon she was light on her feet, graceful and charming to watch. Her lithe movements made his heartbeat quicken.

They moved farther away, and although he’d prefer to follow, a new wave of guests arrived from the direction of the card room, and he was blocked.

Annoyed, he tried to push his way through to no avail. He was jostled, and the noise of hearty greetings rose around him. The stink of cigar smoke and alcohol filled his nose, and he fought a sudden wave of nausea.

He lost sight of Matilda and Deacon as his heart raced.

In fact, he couldn’t see anyone he knew around him, and the idea that he was left behind, abandoned, rolled over him like a breaking wave in a high sea.

He broke out into a sweat as he gasped and mopped his brow with his handkerchief. A woman brayed like a horse right behind him, causing him to jump, but the hubbub kept rising until he could only hear the sound of his own desperate breathing and quickening heartbeat.

William dug his fingers under his cravat, desperately trying to gain some air, frantically trying to see where he was headed, determinedly trying to reach his Matilda again.

Although he tried to move forward to where he thought Matilda might be by now, he was utterly surrounded by a wall of strangers. A glass smashed to the floor, a man shouted, and William gasped out loud. Panicked. Afraid.

He saw an opening in the crowd and shoved his way through it, not stopping until he reached the empty terrace and the fresh night air beyond. But even out here, there were hidden dangers. He heard whispers and moans from the darkness. There was no escape from people with prying eyes, lurking in the shadows with their lovers.

He dragged in huge breaths as his pulse raced. He needed…

From within the ballroom, noise continued to drown out all thought he might have had of going back inside. He stumbled into the darkness, desperate for a moment alone. He didn’t want to be seen like this. He reached the shelter of a low stone wall and rested against it as his ears began to ring and a second, hotter fever broke out all over his body. He stood again and managed to walk away, allowing the cooler night air to slide across his face.

He ran.

Running for safety.

William clutched his head, covered his ears, overwhelmed by sounds that had no right to be heard in this place or time. Weapons clashed, pistols boomed as if he was in the midst of battle, commanding a ship of doomed men with no hope of winning the day. Just as in his nightmares.

He kept moving as the onslaught continued. He ran for his life, fleeing before the pain began again.

He burst out of a gateway but couldn’t break free of the memories. The stink of battle enveloped him, and he ran until a wall stopped him. He clutched at the brickwork, then sank to his knees, covered his head, and prayed for death to take him quickly this time.

Thirteen

M
atilda shook William. She shook him harder than she ever should and tried to lift his face from his bent knees. She was so afraid. It wasn’t natural for a grown man to be huddled against a crumbling wall like this, cowering and muttering to himself. He made no sense.

“Billy. Billy. What has happened to you?”

He sucked in a shuddering breath suddenly and blinked up at her. His eyes narrowed. “I’ve told you not to use that name.”

Matilda dragged him into her embrace. “I’ve been calling your name for so long. Why didn’t you answer me?”

He put his arms around her and squeezed her. Then he shifted to lean against the wall. He glanced around, blinking at his surroundings in the weak moonlight. “I don’t know.”

“Is he all right now, Mrs. Ford?” Lord Deacon whispered with a nervous glance for their surroundings. “Is there anything more I can do to help?”

Matilda was grateful Deacon wasn’t the sort to draw attention to them right now. She didn’t want anyone to see William like this. She did not know how to explain his behavior. She stood and faced the man. “No, I think we’ll be fine now.”

Deacon checked the lane and then came back. “Are you sure?”

William clutched her gown and tugged.

“Thank you for all you’ve done, but I can manage him now.” She kneeled down and pressed her hand to William’s brow. She discovered him warm but not fevered. He caught her fingers and held them lightly in his but said nothing more. “Would you mind leaving us and returning to the ball, my lord? We will rejoin the party shortly.”

Deacon glanced around, eyeing the shabby surroundings with distaste. “I’m not sure I should leave you both out here. We are very far from the ball. It could be dangerous.”

Matilda had grown up in such a place. For now they were perfectly safe. She could hear nothing but the occasional rat or mouse shuffling through the straw to the left.

“I remember the path back.” The last thing William would want was a fuss or for a friend to see him so unlike his usual self. “Everything will be fine now. We will be along in a little while. I promise. Please.”

William clutched Matilda’s wrist as soon as Deacon left them. “I’m sorry.”

Matilda crouched down at his side and cupped his face, drawing his gaze up to hers. He seemed so bewildered that her heart was moved. “It is all right, I’m just glad I found you. Lord Deacon saw you go and stayed with me until we discovered you hiding here.”

“He’s a good friend.” William’s fingers slipped slowly from her skin. “I hate to imagine what he thinks of this.”

“Don’t worry about Deacon.” She listened to his breathing, which thankfully had slowed down quite a bit since she’d roused him. “I’m just glad you came to no harm out here in the dark.”

William studied the darkness around them. “Where are we?”

“I’m not entirely sure. You fled the ballroom and the garden too and traveled a distance along the rear lane. We are outside someone’s abandoned stables.”

He stood quickly, mopping his brow with a snowy white handkerchief. Matilda stood too so she could brush his hair back from his face. His skin was damp, as if he’d been running for hours. Quite frankly, she was baffled by his behavior tonight. She had thought nothing but the idea of making a match with Miss Chudleigh had ever bothered him.

He held out his hand. Matilda placed her wrist across his palm, smiling as his fingers folded around her limb. His fingers drummed over her pulse a moment, then tightened.

“We should go before we are seen,” he said softly.

The discomfort in his voice stilled her tongue from asking any more questions about his flight from the ball for the time being.

“Of course.” Matilda brushed at her skirts feebly and then tugged him along. If she was dusty from the straw-lined floor, then hopefully by the time they returned to the ball it would have fallen away. “Perhaps a slow stroll back to the ball to cool you down.”

He said nothing to that but adjusted his grip so their palms crossed. “I am sorry I broke my promise. I left you alone with Deacon at the ball.”

Matilda threaded her fingers with his and squeezed. She couldn’t quite believe he was apologizing for leaving her. If not for Deacon’s greater height, she wouldn’t have found William at all until he returned on his own. She had once imagined how awful being abandoned among the
ton
would have been. Seeing William whimper had been ten times worse. “I did not mind. He had nothing but good to say about you, I assure you.”

A bitter grunt left his mouth. “He always did have a way of buttering up the ladies.”

“So you are two of a kind.” She smiled warmly, determined to set him at ease. In the weeks he’d been her husband, she had discovered William Ford had qualities she’d not expected. He was kind, thoughtful—bossy every other moment though. She occasionally wanted to laugh at his dry humor and self-deprecating comments. “I recognized him as soon as I saw him tonight, so I wasn’t worried. He used to call at the town house and was a great source of amusement for your sisters, but he acts like he doesn’t remember meeting me. He has a kind heart, and it shows.”

William wrapped her arm about his. “He’s not the type to embarrass anyone.”

“Well, even so I will be on my best behavior around the earl.” She glanced at her husband, more than a little worried about him. “You have more to lose after the separation than I do. Ah, here we are. We are back at the ball already.”

She stepped up to the open gate and glanced ahead, scanning the path for other people. The gardens were thankfully very quiet. The Hamersleys’ guests must be inside, still soaking up champagne and making merry in the house. Anyone who saw them would think they’d come outside for peace and a quiet stroll together.

“Your reputation means as much to me,” he said as she passed him.

Matilda locked the gate. “But these are not my friends. When it ends and we part ways, they will sympathize with you and hate me. I can live with that. I don’t think you should have to.”

His gaze was direct. “I don’t think I would like that outcome for you.”

As they made their way through the garden, William slipped his arm behind her back. She leaned into him, wondering what had happened to him earlier that he could have acted so afraid. William did not like her to pry, but it had been obvious he was beset by a spell of some description. She’d been calling his name in that dusty stable for several minutes before resorting to using
Billy
just to break through to him.

She stopped him and then quickly inspected his appearance. There was straw sticking to the tails of his coat, so she quickly flicked the pieces away with her hand.

“Are you attempting to punish me?”

“No. I leave that sort of thing entirely to you.” The flippant remark sparked an unexpected twinge. So far, they had not returned to the subject of spanking. But to bring it up now wasn’t the best time for her nerves. She shrugged and brushed his shoulders one more time. “There now. Perfectly handsome once more.”

He looked toward the ballroom and tensed. “I need to go home,” he whispered.

Matilda nodded, thinking that a very good idea. “I’ll speak with your aunt and claim my headache takes us away. I’m sure she can manage your sisters for the remaining hours without us as chaperones.”

“Thank you.”

They returned to the ballroom, William’s grip on her arm tight. She said their good-byes, explained she wasn’t feeling well, and hurried William out to await their carriage in the hall. On the way through the crowd, she noticed his eyes grew wild whenever the press of bodies around them drew too close.

Once they were inside the comforting darkness of their borrowed carriage, William dropped his head onto her shoulder. His arm slipped around her body and he dragged her close, almost into his lap. She froze, uncertain of what William was about. He had not held her since the early days of his recovery, and then only when he had been asleep or when he was very restless. It was as if he needed someone to hold him to the earth.

He still seemed not himself, so Matilda allowed him to remain close, stroking his arm in a manner she hoped soothed him. His breathing settled during the journey, and by the time they drew up before the town house, he was still quiet but calm once more.

Once at home, she spoke for him, wished the butler good night, and requested Dawson come up to attend William in his bedchamber. His mood remained subdued, and he made no further advances toward her.

Matilda turned back his bedding and patted the mattress. “Come and sit. Mr. Dawson will be here in a moment and will help you ready for bed.”

William sat on the edge of the bed in silence, appearing lost in thought, quite unlike the confident man she’d come to expect when they were alone. He was hurting, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

When Dawson arrived, she wished them both a good night, then retreated to the dressing room. She struggled out of her gown unaided, then pulled her nightgown on. She left her hair unbound, which William seemed to prefer, and waited. When the valet finally left William, she hurried back in, finding her husband exactly where she’d left him but without his shirt, waistcoat, and coat. His feet were bare, though he still wore his black silk breeches.

Her pulse raced a little too fast at the state of his undress and she swallowed. She was rooted to the spot by his body and his vulnerability. “Are you going to sit there all night?”

He took a deep breath. “I considered it.”

Matilda shook off her apprehension and moved toward him. “Sleep will help.”

“Sleep is another nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” She set her hand to his shoulder and then his brow to test him for fever. “I don’t understand.”

“I dream, Mattie. Even during the day.” A shudder wracked him. “I’d rather be awake than remember the past.”