Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Bridget had not awakened since her parents brought her home from Lady Emily's ball. It had been three days since that terrible night, and Anna had not left her sister's bedside even once. She sat in the dark by Bridget's side, watching as her sister's chest rose and fell beneath the bed linens. A throat cleared.

Anna looked toward the doorway, and David stood there. Sympathy softened his face, and there was an awkward shyness in how he stood. It reminded Anna of the night they first met, when he looked so out of place among the ton. His every remark had been followed by a sheepish glance, as though he had wanted to be himself but had been unsure if himself was acceptable among such grand company.

"David," she said.

He inclined his head slightly. "How are you, dearest? How is your sister?"

Anna sighed deeply and wrung her hands together. "I am as well as I can be, considering the circumstances. Bridget is… unchanged."

David moved nearer to her and stood behind her. She took comfort in his presence and leaned back a little. He squeezed her shoulder and rubbed his thumb over the crook of her neck.

"Do my parents realize you are here and that we are without a chaperone?" Anna asked.

"I bribed your maid to give us a moment of privacy," he said. "I trust you will not have her dismissed."

Despite the dour situation, Anna smiled. There had been very little happiness in her life since Bridget was pushed down the steps. "I will not have her dismissed," Anna said, her gaze drifting to Bridget. "I have more pressing matters than my maid accepting bribes from my betrothed."

"After Bridget recovers—"

"If she recovers," Anna interrupted quietly. "The surgeon and physician are both unsure that she will. The blow to her head was… was bad. She lost a great deal of blood, and it is uncertain if she will ever…"

Tears burned in Anna's eyes. Her breath hitched when she thought of her sister never waking up and of having lost her best friend. This never should have happened. She and Bridget should have been engaged to their love matches and thinking about happy marriages. Bridget—so lively and thoughtful and kind—should not be lying prone on that bed if there was even an ounce of justice in the world.

"Oh, Anna," David said, handing her a handkerchief. "My poor dearest."

Anna rubbed her eyes roughly with the fabric and crumbled it between her hands. "What if she never wakes?" she whispered, longing for an answer and terrified to receive one. "What if—what if Lady Hastings—what if she killed my sister? How can I bear that?"

David stood before her and grasped her shoulders very gently. "Anna."

She looked at him through the mist of her tears. He smiled tenderly.

"She will wake up," he said, carefully enunciating each word. "We have to believe that. She will wake up. Yes, the fall was terrible, but the surgeon arrived quickly. He was able to stop the bleeding, and Bridget is a strong woman. She is nearly as formidable as you."

Anna choked out a wet, uneven laugh.

"She will survive," David said. "It may take her some time to wake, but she will. Bridget is not going to be defeated by the likes of Lady Hastings."

"You cannot possibly know that."

"No," David said. "But I will make myself believe it, for your sake and for hers. I do believe that the world has an ounce of justice in it, and Bridget will live. She would want us to have faith in her recovery."

Anna rubbed her eyes again, dabbing away the tears. "You are right," she said. "I must have faith that she will recover. My despair will change nothing. It is so hard, though. So very hard."

"I know."

He squeezed her hands and lowered himself onto the floor beside her chair. Anna had the wayward thought that no gentleman suitor would ever do that. He would continue standing or order a chair brought to him. That was why she liked David, though. Sometimes, he was informal. He did the wrong gesture or said something awkward. And she did not care a whit.

"How are your parents?" he asked after a moment.

"Distraught," Anna said. "My mother has been ill since Bridget's fall; she has scarcely left her bed. My father blames himself and believes that if he had not insisted on the engagement to Lord Thornton, this would not have happened. I have…"

Anna twisted the handkerchief in her hands.

"You have…?" David prompted.

"I have not confronted him over the matter, but I wish to," Anna said. "I do not know the source of Father's debts, but it was cruel of him to force Bridget to rid him of them. Now, he has his debts and may lose my sister! I am so angry with him, David. I have never felt so wrathful in my life, and I do not know what to do with these feelings inside me."

"You are a devoted sister to Bridget," David said. "It is understandable that you would be angry at such things."

Anna sighed. "It feels ungracious somehow. He is suffering, too."

"That is the folly of being human," David said. "Sometimes, you feel more than one thing at once."

"You are so wise," Anna said, her voice teasing. "Look at you."

His lips twitched in amusement, and they lapsed into comfortable silence. They watched her sister together. If Anna had not known about Bridget's terrible injury, she might have just assumed that her sister had fallen into a peaceful, ordinary sleep. The color had returned to Bridget's face, and the rise and fall of her chest revealed no inner distress.

"Has His Grace come to see her?" David asked after a long moment.

"No," Anna replied. "He sent a letter with his apologies and a request for information about Bridget's condition. If memory serves, he also offered the services of his physician. The man himself has not come, though. I do not know if that is for better or worse."

"No?"

"I suspect that he blames himself for Bridget's misfortune," Anna said, "so he stays away. That is unfortunate because His Grace did nothing… well, there was something untoward."

The whole ton had heard the salacious story of how Bridget and the Duke of Hamilton had engaged in an illicit act in the gardens before being confronted by the Marquess of Thornton and Lady Hastings, but that scandal had been mostly buried given Bridget's subsequent accident.

"But," Anna continued, "I am certain that many others have committed the same transgression, including the Duke of Hamilton. In my mind, that is no reason for him to remain away. However, if he did come to see Bridget, I fear that my father might have some strong words to express. I do not wish to see any more fighting and arguing, while my sister lies wounded on this bed. That will accomplish nothing."

"I do not know if I agree," David mused. "I think inevitably that there will be some manner of confrontation. Perhaps the Duke of Hamilton and your father will come to an amiable agreement."

"You are so optimistic," Anna said. "Bridget will wake, my father will listen to reason, and the Duke of Hamilton will marry my sister."

"Why not? It could happen," David said. "Perhaps Bridget's injury will convince your father and the Duke of Hamilton that they ought to put any disagreements aside for your sister's sake."

Anna sighed. The image of the future that David painted was so lovely and enchanting. She wanted to just sink into it and believe in it as earnestly as he seemed to, but she could not bring herself to have such blind faith in the future when her sister had remained unconscious for three days.

"I heard the constable has questioned Lady Hastings," David said.

"I suppose that is to be expected," Anna said.

"Lord Hastings was displeased, as you might imagine," David said. "His wife claimed that a sudden rage overcame her when she heard the Duke of Hamilton defend your sister's honor. Lady Hastings once loved His Grace, and it seems as though her love—as obsessive as it seems—has not diminished over the years."

Anna shivered and rubbed her forearms as if to warm herself. "I would not call such a thing love," she said.

"I know," David said. "But Lady Hastings believes it is. I do wonder if there is something to learn from this all. Perhaps nothing good comes from arranging for daughters to marry men they do not love."

"If only everyone had realized that sooner."

"Yes." David cleared his throat. "I want to ask something of you, but I am uncertain if now is the best time."

"What is it?"

"Your father's debts," he said slowly. "The Marquess of Thornton has called off the engagement, and even if he decides that he does want to wed Bridget, we both know that he cannot."

Anna shook her head. "Father's debts are… they are not my concern at the moment."

"I know," he said, "but I wanted to speak to your father about them."

Anna furrowed her brow and slowly shook her head. A terrible thought had just occurred to her. Guilt sparked in her chest. "If Bridget dies, I do not know if I can ever forgive my father," she said. "He alone may not be to blame for what happened to Bridget, but he also is not blameless."

"He is only a man, Anna," David said. "Men make mistakes."

"I know, but some errors are easier to forgive than others."

"I will abide by your wishes and say nothing," David said, "but if you have a change of heart, Anna, you only have to ask. I know you have refused me before, but the situation has changed. I will do anything I can to ensure that both you and your family are happy."

What had Anna done to be deserving of such a kind and gentle man? She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Anna ached to do more. During the poetry reading, she had sneaked behind a bookshelf with David, and they had kissed with such fervor that it had made Anna's knees weak. They had done nothing further, but Anna burned when their eyes locked across rooms or when his hand brushed against hers. Her wedding night had become her greatest fantasy, and she lay awake at night thinking about his strong hands reverently tracing her every curve.

But it did not seem appropriate to do anything more while her sister lay unconscious, and her family was estranged. She looked at her lap and sighed, her gaze drifting to Bridget.

"You are kinder than I deserve," Anna said.

He grinned roguishly. "I think I am exactly what you deserve."

That was impossible. Anna leaned forward and let her forearms rest on her knees. Her back hurt from long hours spent sitting at Bridget's side, but she could not bring herself to abandon her sister for even a moment. If Bridget ever woke, Anna did not want her to be alone.

"How long did you bribe my maid to stay away?" Anna asked.

"Until I leave," David said. "Would you like me to?"

"No," Anna said. "I never want you to leave. I want you to stay with me forever."

"I do not know if I can stay in this room with you for that long," David said, "but I shall remain with you for as long as I can today."

"That will be long enough," Anna said.

She reached out and grasped Bridget's hand in hers. Anna's brow furrowed as she rubbed circles along her sister's wrist. She needed Bridget to wake. She needed her to live and have a happy life and a marriage with someone that she loved.

Anna's lip quivered. She told herself that she ought to think more positively, just as David was. But being optimistic seemed so impossible when her sister was lying in bed, so wounded and still.