Page 36 of Sir Hugo Seeks a Wife (Cinderellas of Mayfair #1)

I sought you through the night.

You offered me my only light.

Once lost, but at last found,

Our souls are now forever bound.

Someone called Athene’s name. Through the thick darkness blanketing her mind, she knew that. She knew the voice, too, although it was hoarse and broken as she’d never heard it before.

She tried to answer, but suffocating silence held her trapped. Trying to move only reminded her of pain. Every bit of her hurt. Surely an ax must have split her skull.

But that voice didn’t stop. It continued in an endless litany. Speaking of hope and the future. And love.

Love? Yes, she loved the man who spoke.

Shards of pain slashed at her, as the temptation rose to return to the darkness.

But even while she sank toward oblivion, the voice wouldn’t let her go. The love wouldn’t let her go.

It hurt to be alive. It hurt so much. She wanted to float away so nothing hurt anymore.

But the love reached out with hands as strong as iron. It caught her tight and wouldn’t let her slip away.

She could have ripped free. But an urge stirred beneath her wish to give up. It told her that she wanted to come back. For so long, she’d drifted without will. Now something invincible insisted that it was time to return to the world.

To the love.

Athene sucked in a deep breath, then wished to glory that she hadn’t. A spear pierced her chest. When she tried to speak, no sound emerged.

“I love you, Athene. I love you.”

She was aware enough now to identify the voice. Hugo… Hugo.

Hugo, her lover. Hugo who sounded as if his heart was broken.

Hugo, who said he loved her?

She tried again to respond. This time, a strangled mewl emerged from her throat.

“Athene?” he choked out.

It took every ounce of energy she had and it hurt like the very devil, but she managed to squeeze his hand. Or at least her fingers fluttered in his hold.

“Athene?” His voice rang with hope. “You’re back?”

Moving her fingers had been torture. Lifting her eyelids was worse.

She struggled to make sense of what she saw. She lay in a bed in an unfamiliar room, and Hugo clutched her hand to his cheek. He looked stricken. And were those tears in his eyes?

Athene had never seen Hugo cry. He was such an indomitable force, she hadn’t imagined that he could.

But as her vision sharpened, she couldn’t mistake the moisture on his cheeks. And the skin beneath her palm was damp and sticky with salt.

He was crying over her. She couldn’t endure it. She made another of those incoherent sounds that seemed to be all she could do. This time it expressed protest.

“Don’t go away again.” Hugo pressed his lips to her fingers. “I’ll fetch the doctor.”

Athene was desperate to hear him tell her again that he loved her, but the darkness reached out and she couldn’t fight it. She tried to cling to his hand, but she’d used all her strength.

He kissed her fingers again then rose and strode through a doorway. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, a man she didn’t know held her wrist to take her pulse.

“She’s awake, thank God,” another man said.

Athene frowned. She recognized that voice, too. Miles? What on earth was he doing here? She’d assumed that she’d never see him again.

Hugo stood beside her brother, looking drawn and overwrought. His hair was a mess and dense stubble covered his cheeks. But the blue gaze that fastened on her face was bright. That was a good sign. Perhaps she wasn’t going to die after all.

“I’ll bleed her again,” the man said. She guessed he was a doctor. “Then give her laudanum to see she sleeps.”

Athene mustered another wordless protest. She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to hear Hugo say that he loved her. And she wanted to know how he’d found Miles. Because surely he had. There was no other explanation for her brother’s presence.

Hugo, God bless him, must have registered her distress. “No, don’t bleed her. She’s too weak as it is. And she’s better awake than lost in a haze of opium.”

The doctor straightened and reacted with injured pride. “Sir Hugo, may I point out that you have no medical expertise?”

“I’ve tended hundreds of sick sheep. Athene needs rest and quiet to regain her strength.”

If Athene had been capable of laughter, she’d have giggled at Hugo likening her to his sheep.

Although she’d long ago recognized that he loved his flocks.

She thought that he might love her, too.

Or at least she’d heard him say that he did.

Dear Lord, don’t let that memory be nothing but a feverish dream.

“My lord, you cannot approve of an amateur taking over the lady’s care,” the doctor said in a huffy tone.

“I agree with Sir Hugo,” Miles said. “At least in the short term. Let’s see if my sister improves.”

Good for Miles. Having come back to consciousness, Athene didn’t want to return to the darkness. She’d ventured too close to sinking into darkness forever.

“I insist you note my objections,” the doctor said.

Hugo took the seat that he’d occupied when she awoke.

It was a wordless statement that he intended to prevail, and so true to the man she loved.

The doctor had already lost the argument, whether he knew it or not.

That same doggedness had brought Athene to Hugo’s bed, when she’d been set on pursuing her solitary path.

Once he made his mind up, he was immovable.

Hugo took her hand again. “Object all you like, Dr. Marsh.”

She tried to squeeze his hand but she was fading. Despite wanting to stay awake, she drifted back into the night.

***

When Athene stirred again, Hugo still held her hand, but his face rested on the bed. He was asleep. She shifted her other arm in an attempt to stroke his rumpled hair. Red-hot pain lanced through her, banishing the mist from her mind. A groan of agony escaped, disturbing him.

He raised his head to stare at her in bleary concern. “You’re awake.”

She swallowed to moisten a mouth as dry as a desert and forced out an answer. “Yes.” The word emerged as a raw croak.

“That makes me so happy,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. He tightened his grip on her hand. “How are you feeling?”

She frowned. She thought she’d imagined Miles’s presence, but that was without doubt her brother standing beside Hugo’s chair. “Miles?” she forced out. “What are you doing here?”

He looked troubled. “You don’t remember?”

“Remember?” Coughing hurt. Hurt like she couldn’t believe.

Hugo released her hand, which she didn’t like. But when he stood and poured her a glass of water, she forgave him. Very gently, he propped her up and gave her a sip. The cool moisture on her parched throat was heavenly.

Miles stared at her and if she didn’t know better, she’d say that he looked like he cared about her. “I saw you in the street, and you took fright and stepped in front of a curricle.”

She struggled to recall what happened, but her mind was a complete jangle.

“Later, man. Can’t you see she’s still confused?” Hugo gave her another sip of water before placing the glass on the bedside table.

“I thought you hated me,” she said, even as the fog rose again.

“Never,” her brother said. And on that word, she surrendered to the void once more.

***

When Athene woke again, her mind was clear and she recollected the events leading up to her accident.

She’d been out of sorts after Hugo’s departure and went for a walk to clear her head.

She remembered turning down onto crowded Coppergate.

She remembered calling out to Miles and her surge of panic.

She remembered stumbling into the carriage’s path.

Then overwhelming pain before the terrible crash into blackness.

Now she opened her eyes to daylight and an open window. The air was cold but blessedly fresh. She didn’t remember much from the last hours, but she did recall feeling hot and stifled.

Hugo stood at the window looking outside. She took the opportunity to bask in the sight of him.

He was such a monumental figure of a man. Tall and powerful. In the soft winter light, the gold of his thick hair reflected the gold of his soul.

What a lucky girl she was to be alive and in his presence.

There was no sign of Miles, but she knew now that she hadn’t dreamed him being here. That was astonishing enough. Even more astonishing was her impression that he wasn’t angry or disdainful. He’d seemed worried, as if he was still fond of her. Of course, that couldn’t be true.

Hugo turned and caught her watching. His eyes lit, as if he beheld his dearest treasure, and one of his rare, sweet smiles curved his lips. “You’re with us again.”

She knew better now than to move so she just smiled back, because he was her dearest treasure, too. “I am.”

Speaking was easier than it had been, thank goodness.

Hugo approached the bed. “Would you like some water, lass?”

“Yes, please. Although I’d like a cup of tea even better.”

“I’m sure. I’ll go and fetch one for you.”

She slid her good hand over the sheets in a pleading gesture. “No, don’t go. I can wait.”

He leaned in to help her sit up. Although he was heartbreakingly careful, she bit back a whimper. “I’m never jumping in front of a carriage again.”

“Glad to hear it.” He stuffed a few pillows behind her, then he poured some water and held the glass to her lips. She took a couple of sips. She wanted to drain the glass, but she feared spilling water all over herself.

“You remember what happened?” he asked.

“I remember everything. I should have stayed home yesterday.”

His lips turned down. “It was three days ago.”

Three days? When her eyes searched his face, the signs of exhaustion confirmed his words. Not to mention he badly needed a shave. “And all because I wanted a little fresh air.”

“You took twenty years off my life. At first, I couldn’t find you. Then, when I did, I was terrified that you weren’t going to wake up.” He spoke with his signature dry humor, but there were shadows in those deep blue eyes and lines on his face that hadn’t been present before.

“I’m sorry.”