True to his word, Seaford ensured he wasn’t disturbed by any wedding breakfast preparations. As the big day approached, even Hartley had to admit the manor house had never looked so good. There were maids and footmen cleaning and carting things from one room to another.
Only close friends and family had been invited to the breakfast. It was all he could tolerate, and Seaford seemed to understand that without Jon having to explain his reluctance to be in a crowd. Even though there weren’t many people attending, it was more than he’d entertained in a long time. Jon had wanted his friends to attend, especially since they knew his batman from the war, but he was most looking forward to talking to Lady Harriet later at the wedding breakfast.
On the day of the wedding, the sun shone brightly, and everything looked perfect. The happy couple only had eyes for each other when they returned to the manor as husband and wife. Hartley was happy for his valet to finally have his beloved by his side.
The ballroom had been transformed, with every inch of the room sparkling in the sunlight plus a few additional candles spread around the room. He’d given Mrs. Bentley free rein to hire as many servants as needed to clean and prepare the manor for the breakfast. She and Greenfield had done a magnificent job, and he intended to give them a healthy rise in salary for their efforts and, more importantly, for keeping him out of the preparations.
After everyone had been seated and the toasts had been made, he signaled the footmen to bring in the food. That was when things started to go wrong. During the frenzy of the food being delivered to the table, he could feel the familiar panic atthe edge of his awareness like a beast trying to devour its host. If he could only have a few moments alone, perhaps he could stop the attack. He slipped out of the ballroom before anyone noticed his rapid breathing.
Please, not today of all days. Give me one day of peace.
He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Just a few more minutes and he should be fine was the lie he told himself over and over again.
Harriet had been lookingforward to talking with Hartley and even stealing more kisses out in the garden. She hadn’t forgotten how wonderful she felt in his arms whenever he kissed her or how tenderly he held her when they danced or rode out together. But when she looked around the ballroom to find him, she couldn’t spot him anywhere.
Where had the earl gone?
One moment he was there, and when she looked again, he was nowhere to be found.
She pushed her chair back. “Mama, I shall return in a moment. I must use the retiring room.”
“Of course, dear,” Eleanor said.
She slipped out of the ballroom and checked in the hallway, but there was no sign of the earl. Next, she checked in the parlor, where she found the French doors wide open. It was a breezy day, and they hadn’t been opened earlier. Had he gone outside for some fresh air? She walked through the parlor and out into the garden. It wasn’t much of a garden, but it was much improved from the day her grandmother and she had tea with the earl. He must have hired a gardener and some laborers because it looked quite lovely. The weeds were gone, the busheswere trimmed, and some flowers had even been planted along the path.
“Lord Hartley, are you out here?”
There was no response, and she followed along the perimeter of the manor but didn’t dare call out again for fear that someone inside would hear her. As she rounded the corner, she found him clinging to the wall near the back of the house. His face was pale, and he looked to be in great pain, as his hands clenched his head and his eyes were squeezed shut. His cravat was hanging loose, and the top two buttons of his shirt were open.
She ran to him. “My lord, are you ill? Shall I summon your valet?”
“No,” he grunted.
“Why don’t you sit for a moment,” she said, putting her arm around his waist and guiding him to a nearby bench. “Lord Hartley, what do you need? Tell me, and I’ll see it happen,” Harriet said, watching him as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t seem to find the words.
He finally managed to croak out, “Bedchamber.”
“Of course. Let me guide you.” She helped him stand, holding his waist again and walking him slowly to the kitchen entrance to avoid running into any of the guests. She instinctively knew Hartley wouldn’t want anyone to see him like this.
Mrs. Bentley immediately knew what was happening when they walked into the kitchen. “His bedroom is the third door on the left. Take the servants’ stairs. I shall summon a footman to help?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bentley,” Harriet said over her shoulder. She started to help Hartley trudge up the back stairs before the footman arrived to help. Every step seemed a struggle for the earl, but she kept a firm hold on him, urging him on with soft words of encouragement. From his groans, he must be in a great deal of pain, but she had no idea what could be hurting him. Bythe time they all got to his bedchamber, rivulets of sweat dripped down his face. The footman threw open the door and they helped him inside.
He groaned and continued to rub his temples, his breath sawing in and out. “Bed, now.”
Harriet and the footman helped him to the bed, and he plopped down on the edge. She eased his jacket off his shoulders and pulled the cravat off as well. “Let’s take off your boots, my lord.”
The earl could barely nod while the footman pulled off his boots. She instinctively started to sing the lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she wasn’t feeling well. It’d always seemed so magical. Perhaps it could bring some comfort to Lord Hartley.
Harriet pulled the bedcovers down. “Lie down now. You’ll feel better soon.” She poured some water into the basin while she continued to sing.
Hartley scooted back, layhis head on the soft pillows, and squeezed his eyes tight. He wanted to explain what was happening to him, but he could barely control his breathing, never mind carry on a conversation. His eyesight had narrowed to a pinpoint, and his head felt like it was being pulled apart, but there was something about her voice that seemed to soothe the savage beast inside, and he clung to it like it was his only lifeline. He was embarrassed to have her see him this way, but he didn’t want her to leave yet.
A cool cloth covered his forehead. “Rest now, my lord. You’ll feel better soon.”
She started to leave with the footman.
He grabbed her wrist. “Sing,” he pleaded in a whisper.
