Page 34 of To Hunt the Hunter

Matilda hesitated, not wanting to pry, but….

“There’s a scar… on his wrist.”

Pippin’s gentle features darkened, something that promised retribution glinting in eyes that were usually warm and filled with kindness and compassion.

“He was just a child, all alone, and no one believed him. They thought the loss of his parents had unbalanced his mind, for everyone saw how his uncle doted on him. But once you knew the truth, you heard the threat in every assurance that his Uncle Theo spoke when he said he wouldn’t ever let Lucian be alone again. All those loving words that he used before everyone, those that made him sound so kind, they always had another meaning. That was the wickedness of it. To Lucian, he was being threatened in plain sight, but no one could see it but him.”

Matilda stared at her in silent horror, understanding Pippin’s need to gather herself as her voice quavered and she turned away. The woman moved to the bed and stroked the hair from Lucian’s forehead. When she spoke again, the words were quiet but still full of rage.

“That man infested this family like a cancer, and he killed it a bit at a time. He tried to destroy Lucian, and he nearly succeeded, but I wouldn’t let the devil have him. I knew he was on the edge and so I kept a close eye on him. I found him, before….” Her voice caught. “He was only fifteen. His brother had deserted him, wanted nothing more to do with him. Thomas had said many terrible things to him because of his uncle’s lies. Lucian was so isolated, fighting on all sides, and everyone thought Theodore was such a lovely man. I hid what Lucian had done. Bandaged him up and pretended he’d got influenza and needed to rest, or they’d have had him sent to an asylum. His uncle would have relished it. He might not have gained the title, but he’d have had control of everything.”

“Oh, God.” Matilda covered her hand with her mouth, remembering the way Lucian sometimes tugged at his cuffs, an unconscious gesture she now understood.

She felt sick with grief, with rage, with the need to punish Theodore Barrington with the fires of hell, and never let him near Lucian or Phoebe ever again.

“There’s only Lucian left now,” Pippin said. “He’s all that stands between that wicked man and the blasted title he covets, but that monster won’t have him. I won’t let him. We won’t let him, will we, Miss Hunt?”

“Over my dead body, Pippin.”

Pippin returned a grim smile. “Oh, no. Not yours, miss. It won’t be yours.”

Chapter 10

Dear Aashini,

I am worried that Matilda is no better. What does the doctor say? Can we not visit? I beg you to keep the dreadful gossip about Montagu from her. It can only bring her grief. Uncle Charles says he is insane, but I find that hard to believe. The stories are all so wild, but… I hardly know what to think.

―Excerpt of a letter from Her Grace Prunella Adolphus, Duchess of Bedwin, to Aashini Anson, Countess of Cavendish.

2nd May 1815. Dern, Sevenoaks, Kent.

“Why doesn’t he wake up?”

Phoebe clutched at Matilda’s hand and she squeezed it to reassure the child.

“Because it has taken a great deal of energy to fight the fever in his body, and so he must sleep to regain his strength.”

“But he will wake up?” she asked, glancing up at Matilda, her eyes wide with fear.

“Yes,” Matilda replied, with far more confidence than she might have had a few days ago.

His fever had finally broken as the sun had risen, and though he’d been sweating and fractious throughout the night, he was sleeping now and the hectic flush in his cheeks had subsided.

Phoebe turned into Matilda and hugged her, burying her face against her.

“I was so frightened,” she said, her voice muffled.

Matilda got to her knees and pulled the child into a proper hug, holding her tightly. “So was I, but Pippin is terribly clever and knew just what to do.”

“And you stayed,” Phoebe said, the words thick. “You promised to stay, and you did.”

“Of course. I would never break a promise, Phoebe.”

“And you do love him, don’t you?”

Matilda opened her mouth, knowing she ought to tell the girl some lie to make her accept the future would not change, but the terror she’d felt these past days had worn her down and she could not think of a way to sidestep the truth.

“Yes,” she said helplessly, for what else could she say. “Yes, I do.”