Silas didn’t really have a choice but to believe him, and when he nodded, Lewis turned and pointed in a seemingly random direction.
“South. They went towards the south side of the field. There is a path that leads into the forest, down to a creek. Their brother is waiting for them there with horses for them to make their getaway.”
Silas called for a footman, “Eric. Find them. Whatever it takes. They must not escape.”
The footman stepped forward and bowed. “Do not worry, Your Grace. They will not.”
They took their leave swiftly, and Silas was left holding his betrothed in his arms, praying that she was not badly hurt, and that Simon would be able to find a physician as soon as possible. Lewis lingered about awkwardly, looking defeated, and Silas thought it was wise of him to understand that he had lost.
He looked down at Agnes’ face, doing his best not to let the panic brewing in his stomach bubble over at the sight of blood on her forehead – an injury she must have obtained when she fell – gently, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. Regret washed over him once more, and he sighed in mild disbelief at what he had done, what he had been willing to give up.
He felt no different from Lewis – a selfish child who only thought of himself, uncaring about how his actions and words would affect others because he was too busy claiming to be grieving. His loss of his grandfather did not justify his actions, and he knew that he had disappointed the old man greatly.
Silas only hoped it was not too late to do the right thing.
Chapter Twenty
The physician was taking too long to arrive.
Silas could not tell how much time had passed since he sent Simon off in search of help and did not know how long it had been since his footmen left to capture his assailants. All he knew was the worry and fear weighing his heart down. Lewis had retreated to a corner and sat there silently with his hands in his hair, likely bemoaning the decisions that ultimately led to his destruction.
The Duke did not care one bit about him, more concerned that the love of his life was still yet to regain consciousness. His own subconscious was startled at the admission of the role she played in his life but accepted it fairly quickly. He did care for her deeply, and try as he might to deny it, it was obvious that he had fallen for her deeply a long time ago, and all his actions of late had just been pointless posturing.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding her closer and burying his lips in her hair. “I am so sorry, Agnes. For dragging you into this mess that did not concern you… for failing to be honest…”
He inhaled shakily, forcing himself to keep going, desperate to do something other than sit in the dirt and wait for God knew how much longer.
“I’m sorry for being such a fool. I’ve been a coward, trying to avoid the possibility of getting hurt by denying any potential emotional attachments. I was stupid… absolutely idiotic, to tell myself I did not deserve your love… I suppose I have always been that way since we met, right? Desperate to oppose you and to tell you what to do. I should have known better than to make you feel as though you were not entitled to give your love. I am truly sorry, Agnes. I do not want to run away anymore – I won't. If … if you still love me after this, I will gladly spend the rest of my days by your side, riding our horses. So … please. Please just open your eyes.”
He heard footsteps approach the stable house and reluctantly looked up, wondering how terrible he must look for his grandmother’s expression to morph from one of concern to dismay as soon as she laid her eyes on him.
“Silas,” she softly called out, “Darling, what happened?”
Silas swallowed with difficulty, forcing the words out from around the lump in his throat.
“She … she fell. I think she hit her head as she went down. There’s blood –”
“Do not worry, Your Grace,” the physician spoke up, reaching for Agnes. “I will do everything I can to help her.”
Silas reluctantly let him lift her out of his arms to lay her back on the floor, with Silas’ jacket folded into a makeshift pillow her head to rest upon. While the physician examined her, he moved to his grandmother’s side, allowing her to run her hands up and down his arms in an effort to soothe him. Her gaze wandered off for a moment, and she spotted Lewis in a corner and frowned at his presence.
“What is he doing here? Was he the one who hurt Agnes?” she asked.
Silas didn’t even spare his cousin a glance as he shook his head.
“No… but he was partly responsible. He has crimes he needs to answer for. I’ll explain everything later,” Silas said, knowing that it would be quite difficult to do so.
He did not need to imagine how devastated his grandmother would feel when she learned the true story behind the death of her husband – especially that it was caused by people they had trusted and treated like family – because his own heart already ached each time he remembered the confessions he had heard.
“Your Grace,” the physician spoke up, walking towards them. “Do not worry, she will be just fine. Her injuries are merely superficial, and I have cleaned the wound to avoid any chances of an infection. She should awaken soon.”
Silas nodded, and Lady Anna reached out to pat his shoulder reassuringly, but he felt undeserving of the act of comfort as much as he desired it.
“This is my fault,” he whispered, hanging his head low.
“I am sure that isn’t true, Silas,” Lady Anna refuted softly. “Do not make yourself shoulder this weight. She will be fine. Our Agnes has the tenacity of a bull and the stubbornness of a mule. She’ll be up soon and go off in search of a horse to ride.”
A laugh bubbled out of Silas’ throat, and he nodded, trying to let hope grow within him.