“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing.”
“We’ll call Dr. Landon.” Verity waved her sister closer. “Come, Maddie.”
“But he needs help.”
“I’m sure Mr. Wentworth wants a moment alone, don’t you, Mr. Wentworth?” Verity reached out to take her sister’s hand.
“Yes, I do.” He sat on the floor in the middle of the chaos. Why had he lost his temper? He didn’t know or care.
“Will you be all right?” Maddie asked.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Maddie paused on the threshold before Verity pulled her out of the cabin. And he was alone with his ghosts.
* * *
Hector sat on the stool,waiting for Maddie to return. After he’d cleaned up his cabin and Dr. Landon had changed the bandage on his hand, he’d asked him to call her and bring everything necessary to shave him. He was calm now, but refused to let anyone inside. No more strangers. The last thing he wanted was to receive more bad news about England. He couldn’t avoid bad news, but he needed time to handle his grief. Right now, his emotional numbness protected him from hurting. Mostly. But another blow would shatter him.
A soft knock came from the door. “Mr. Wentworth? It’s me, Maddie.”
For a moment, he simply stared at the door before remembering people waited for him to speak after knocking. “Come in.”
She inched the door inwards and slipped inside, pale and shivering. “How are you?”
It was a simple question, one that people constantly asked each other without being actually interested in the answer. But to him, the answer wasn’t so simple. Too much had happened to him in a short time. He still couldn’t believe he’d left the island or that he was alive. How could he come to terms with the fact his family was dead when the thought of seeing his mother and brother again had sustained him through his darkest moments? They were the reason he was alive. He’d been tempted to give up many times. But they were dead, and he was alive. What nonsense.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. It wasn’t my intention.”
“I know.” She shut the door and fiddled with her hands. She hadn’t changed much in eight years aside from regaining her healthy pink complexion and growing more curves. She looked more beautiful than he remembered. “I have no words to express how sorry I am for what my mother said.”
It was done, and while the news had been brutal, he had to know the truth. “Cut…” He cleared his throat, remembering what Dr. Landon had told him about manners. “Would you please finish cutting my beard?”
He had no idea why having his hair and beard trimmed was so important. But a choking sensation gripped him every time his tangled curls fell over his eyes. It was like being caught in one of those vines growing on the island. The first time the long, spiky stems had taken hold of him, he’d panicked. He hated the feeling of having something wrapped around him.
She stopped fidgeting, surprise showing on her parted lips. “Of course.”
“Was I polite enough?” He didn’t want to be rude to her.
It was amazing how he’d forgotten about etiquette. The rules that had been hammered into his mind by his parents and tutors made no sense now.
“A perfect gentleman.” Her voice shook.
As she gathered what she needed to shave him, she didn’t gaze at him. Had he done something wrong? Hell. He couldn’t tell anymore. Had society always been so complicated?
“I should apologise for having yelled as well.” He wasn’t sorry about his outburst, but he was sorry about having scared her.
“Don’t you apologise.” She balled a hand on her hip. “I perfectly understand your reaction. It’s my mother I struggle to understand. No, you don’t have to apologise. She should.”
Right. So, she wasn’t angry with him. “Why are you upset then?”
“I feel sorry for you.” She placed the new water basin on the nightstand. “And guilty for what happened.”
He didn’t know what to say, so remained silent while she finished getting ready. After a few minutes, she got to work on his beard. He remained still on the stool as Maddie cut the longest portion.
The soft brush of her gentle fingers against the skin of his neck was both stunning and painful. Her touch was the best remedy for the wave of agony threatening to assault him. No one had touched him in eight years, and every time she brushed her fingers against his skin, a jolt of sensation went through him.
