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Chapter Fifteen
Dracott woke with a start, his breath coming out in quick gasps. The lingering effect of his nightmare clung to his consciousness. His gaze scanned the room for any sign of a threat, and he relaxed once he realized he was alone.
He slid back against the headboard and propped his arm on his raised knee. His head lowered as he attempted to recall the fragments of his nightmare. He wanted to discern the horrible sense of doom settling over him.
The glint of the silver blade peeking out from underneath the pillow drew his attention. He sat up straighter, peering around the room again.
Dracott threw the pillow off the bed and saw how the blade faced the wrong direction. He always placed the knife with the blade facing toward the headboard. A flashback of him holding the knife over an intruder invaded his thoughts. The weapon beckoned him to tap into his memories. Dracott picked up the knife and shut his eyes to concentrate.
Flashes of getting attacked mixed with him grabbing the knife because someone had invaded his lodgings. Also, memories of making love to Maggie mixed in with his terrors, distracting him. However, the image of Maggie standing before him with a look of horror etched on her face brought the evening slamming back.
He dropped the knife and leapt from the bed, backing away at the memory of attacking Maggie. He bumped into the table and knocked the bottle of gin and glasses around. With an unsteady hand, he reached out to grab the bottle. The liquid burned a path of fire down his throat to settle in his belly. He kept drinking after the first swallow didn’t appease his remorse.
“Maggie,” Dracott croaked out a whisper.
Still, images of them declaring their love while their bodies moved as one continued to plague him. Her soft confession whispered in the air.
I love you.
The memories seemed so real. They weren’t figments of his imagination. Or were they?
He took a deep breath to help calm his troubled thoughts. Panicking wouldn’t solve the doubts plaguing him. Only clear thoughts would help him reach clarity. And getting drunk because of acts he had committed wouldn’t help him absolve himself. He must piece together what he remembered and hope everything else fell into place. This wasn’t the first episode of forgetfulness he suffered from, nor would it be his last. How he conducted his mindset, though, would put his doubts into perspective.
Dracott noted the disheveled bed, his clothes strewn across the floor, a chair pulled close to the bed. A glass of water with a bottle of sedatives sat on the nightstand, and a blanket hung over the curtains, keeping out the light. Those small touches meant Ravencroft had been present. Only his brother knew how to handle one of his episodes. As frustrating as Ravencroft had been of late, he held gratitude for his care.
With one more glance, he memorized how the room appeared and closed his eyes. After taking a few deep breaths, he cleared his mind to focus on the events from the night before. A short time later, piece by piece came together. He worked on staying calm, even during the memory that triggered his attack.
He remembered he had spotted Ren and fled Ravencroft’s carriage to catch up with her. However, she had led him into a darkened alley. He had had no way to protect himself since he had foolishly left home without a weapon. Someone had attacked him, throwing him to the ground. Not realizing it was Ren who swept his feet out from underneath him, he had flashed back to the memory of when he received a brutal beating during a heist gone wrong. Dracott had stared into Ren’s eyes, noting it was her. But he had still grown confused and passed out, a reaction he succumbed to whenever he felt threatened.
He dragged a hand down his face. By now, he had come to terms with his unmanly reaction. As much as he wished he wasn’t so vulnerable, it was something out of his control. His best course of action was to never place himself in those situations. And working for a detective agency wasn’t the wisest of choices for an occupation.
While he didn’t recall how he had returned to his lodgings, it must be the work of Ren and Ravencroft. As much as his friend didn’t trust his brother, she did if it concerned his welfare. By the room’s appearance, his brother had helped to ease his trauma. Usually, he only needed to sleep off the effects of the episode.
However, he recalled waking up in a groggy haze and hearing someone enter his room. He had reacted from instinct and drawn his weapon to defend himself. But in his confusion, he had mistaken Maggie for an intruder. He recalled how Maggie had attempted to make him see reason, but he had mistaken her actions as a threat. Bits of her pleas tugged at his memories.
His body shook at how close he had come to causing her harm. However, it was her declaration of love that had awakened him out of the fog he had existed in. Soon, every memory rushed forward in a flood of images. The kisses they shared. The ever-consuming passion exploding around them. Her gentle caresses and soft sighs of pleasure. The exact moment when their souls joined to create an everlasting bond of love.
Maggie’s gentle embrace as she held him to her heart while he cried out from the agony of the demons that clung to him, even with her gift of love surrounding them. Maybe together they could free him from the claws of his demons.
After that, he had fallen into a deep sleep. The full effect of the drug had taken over him.
He opened his eyes after he remembered everything. Shame never once took hold because he realized it was an uncontrollable wasted emotion. His behavior was an act he accepted, and if Maggie loved him, then she needed to understand it, too. And her reaction showed him she did.
Now he must confess his other sins and explain what had happened. And to do that, he must betray Ravencroft. Which was for the best. His brother’s insane plan to outwit Lady L was an impossible feat, one they would need the aid of more powerful gentlemen to complete.
Dracott rose and put his chamber in order. After dressing, he set out. First, he would pay a visit to Maggie. She deserved his attention before anyone else. He only hoped she would listen to his confession and forgive him afterward. Then with her support, he would confess to Worth and Ralston and ask for their help. If neither gentleman called him out, he would then ask Lord Worthington for Maggie’s hand in marriage. He only prayed the earl would agree. If not, then he might have to kidnap Maggie.
A smirk settled over his face as he contemplated how that plan might work more to his advantage.
More thrilling, at least.
~~~~~
MAGGIE NEVER SLEPT. Sleep eluded her because of her scattered emotions. After tossing and turning, she finally rose and dressed for the day. She stayed in her room, not wanting to appear too eager for breakfast. She knew in her heart Crispin would call on her this morning. If she sat waiting for him, she knew Evelyn wouldn’t stay silent. And it was for the best that her brothers never discovered how she had snuck out to visit Crispin. They would beat him to an inch of his life, drawing out his misery with their overprotectiveness.
Then there was Ravencroft. He always joined them for breakfast, and now they shared secrets between them. Secrets Maggie herself didn’t understand. However, it wasn’t fair to keep these secrets from Noel. While she had told her fair share of fibs, she never withheld information from her family. She hated betraying Noel. But she must stay silent until she spoke to Crispin first.
Maggie curled up on the divan and stared outside. The staff were pruning the flowers, and the gardener chased a cat away. Maggie giggled. Her heart sat heavy from her memories of the previous evening, but the amusing sight gave a lift of lightness to the doom. Not every memory was unsettling. She clung to Crispin’s words of love and hope for the outcome of their deception.
