MADDIE COULDN’T BELIEVE what her eyes saw.
She stared at the document her mother had given her in disbelief. In an official letter, signed by two solicitors and even a judge, Dr. Smith declared he’d been mistaken about Hector’s mental state and after a second assessment—which she doubted had ever happened—he was ready to testify that Hector was perfectly sane and fit for his ducal duty.
She lowered the letter, speechless. She wanted to ask her mother how the devil she’d managed to convince Dr. Smith to change his diagnosis, and above all, why.
“See? I’m not completely useless.” Mother smiled, and for once, it wasn’t her smug smile but a genuine one.
Finally, Maddie appreciated the similarity between herself and Mother. “How did you get this?”
Mother blushed, and blazes, she looked ten years younger and beautiful. “I always listen to your father when he talks about his work. So, I happen to know about some financial problems Dr. Smith is going through due to his passion for gambling. The man squandered his daughters’ dowries. How irresponsible. His poor wife doesn’t know. His dire financial situation is actually confidential information, but I didn’t publicly divulge it. I simply reminded him that everyone can make mistakes and his wife should be informed. It’s only sensible. He didn’t seem to agree with me, though.”
“You blackmailed him.” Maddie didn’t know if she should be proud or horrified.
“Good gracious, no.” Mother put a hand on her throat. “It was a perfectly civil conversation.”
Maddie would like to argue that blackmailing was never civil, no matter how polite the exchange was. Anyway. “Why did you help Hector?”
“Why? Seventy thousand pounds, a dukedom, and five estates. Well, three now. Lord Quentin sold two of them. I bet he and Dr. Smith attend the same gaming den. I don’t want to mingle with such scoundrels,” said the woman who blackmailed a doctor. Mother gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Only the best for my daughters.”
As her mother sauntered away, a shock of stillness went through Maddie. She held the letter and read it again. Hector wouldn’t be locked up in an institution and, if their luncheon with Lord Naylor went well, he could find a champion. They had to thank Mother for the opportunity.
Blimey. Her mother had done the right thing for the wrong reason.
But did it matter?
* * *
Lord Naylor kept glaringat Hector as if expecting Hector to attack him at any moment, which was a pity because Hector liked the man.
Lord Naylor’s house on the outskirts of London was surrounded by old oak trees, birches, and tall Scottish pines. Just inhaling the fragrant scent of pine resin and wet soil gave Hector hope.
The glasshouse, where they were strolling, held species from all over the world. Some of them looked remarkably similar to those he’d seen on the island.
He walked along the wide aisle, watching the beautiful flowers and ignoring Lord Naylor’s worried glares. Maddie chatted with Lady Naylor, and he loved hearing the sound of her laughter. Albert, Lord Naylor’s son, touched every flower and leaf he could get his hands on while Frances flashed at him a shy smile he returned.
Lord Naylor cleared his throat. “May I inquire about a matter that worries me, Lord Hector?”
Ah, there it came. “Ask away, sir.” He stepped aside to let Albert rush past him, holding a bright red hibiscus.
“Would you tell me what happened in Hyde Park?” He surveyed the conservatory, following his son’s meandering. “I heard the most outlandish accounts of your adventure on the Serpentine. Some are too outrageous to be true.”
“Like what?”
“Like you tried to kill Miss Debenham and her sister.”
Hector sighed. At least Lord Naylor didn’t fully trust the rumours. “The truth is quite simple and, I’m afraid, less exciting than the stories you heard. Being on the boat and surrounded by water made me believe I was on the raft in the ocean again. I panicked, convinced I hadn’t been rescued, that it’d been all a dream. A cruel trick, if I say so myself.” He paused as a choking sensation gripped his throat. Just thinking about that moment of panic caused sweat to break on his skin. The darn cravat was too tight all of a sudden. “The fear was so real...I absolutely, without a doubt, believed I was on the raft. I understand it might sound absurd, ridiculous even, and I myself was shocked to realise my mind tricked me into believing I was in the middle of the sea. But that’s what happened, and I don’t have an explanation for it. But yes, Maddie and her sister’s lives were at risk because of my absurd behaviour.”
Lord Naylor’s expression softened, and his eyebrows lowered over his suddenly sympathetic brown eyes. “I understand what you went through. After I returned from Afghanistan, my mind tricked me into thinking I was in the middle of the battlefield many a time. The sensations were very realistic. The illusions went away after a while, but my strength had little to do with them. Even now, sometimes I fall prey to nightmares.” He gripped Hector’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t believe you’re as deranged as the rumours say. I admire you for having survived in conditions that would have discouraged the bravest of men, and I know how a man’s mind can take time to heal.”
Hector wasn’t sure he deserved the praise but bowed his head. “I feel for you. Living the nightmare of a battlefield must be even more horrifying than being on a raft.”
“I don’t believe that. The fear is the same. But above all, I hate the feeling of not being able to control myself.” He rubbed his arm stiff at his side. “I ruined quite a few parties as well. The sound of a bottle of champagne being uncorked would bring me straight to the battlefield. A shattered glass would have me search for my rifle. Even loud voices would make me sweat. Lord Hector, you have my sympathy. I’m grateful that my wife has always been patient with me and helped me through those awful years. Believe me, the illusions will go away, or rather, you’ll learn to live with them.”
A scream rent the quiet of the conservatory before Hector could say anything.
Lady Naylor rushed towards them, her skirt flapping around her legs. “Keith, come!”
Her panicked voice caused both Lord Naylor and Hector to run towards her. They followed her to the fountain where Albert made retching noises, crouched on the floor. His skin had a blue tint that hinted to suffocation, and his dilated pupils could be both fear and poison. Maddie stood petrified next to the child. Frances clamped her hands over her mouth.
