“What?” Mary frowned.
“It’s the salve Mrs Cooper gave me, it’s garlic and ginger and wild marjoram.”
Mary winced. “I’m going downstairs to eat something.”
“Mrs. Clark brought a basket of pastries, save me one,” Lizzie told her without turning.
At night, she’d allow herself to gently curl up on Colin’s uninjured side. The first time she’d done it, she was surprised by how much she’d missed him and their closeness, and by how natural it felt to be with him like this.
Now that her anger had been deflated by his helpless state, she could see her feelings of the last months for what they really were – hurt and fear. Colin had taken some of the hurt away through his steadfast dedication and change in behaviour (to her, yes, but more importantly, to others as well!), but the fear was still intact.
She no longer trusted him with her heart; she no longer found safety in him, and since she knew that she wouldn’t be able to survive another betrayal, she didn’t dare take any risks.
The Coopers came over every day to examine the Duke and to clean his wound more thoroughly. On the second day, Mrs Cooper told her more details about the duel.
“The other man’s name is Mister Timothy Williams, and he is a gentleman from Shropshire who is here for his daughter’s third Season.”
Then Mrs Cooper looked at her as if waiting for her to understand something, but Lizzie stared back in confusion, “What?”
“Williams, from Shropshire,” Mrs Cooper said with more urgency, “like your mother.”
Elizabeth clutched the armrest since the room suddenly tilted. Her eyes widened in shock.A relative?
“Is he…?” She started saying in a shaky voice, but couldn’t finish. She took several deep breaths. “How close of a relation is he?”
“His father and your mother’s father were brothers. He was apparently denied a living he’d been promised, after the Marquess of Sefton cut off your mother’s branch of his family.”
Elizabeth frowned, having only a vague memory of Isolde mentioning the relation between Lady Georgiana’s late husband and her mother’s people.
“So he hates us because of the living he was denied, what, twenty years ago?”
Mrs. Cooper sighed. “I’ve known men like him. He blames someone else for all his problems. Yes, he blames your mother for the living, but he also blames you for marrying well when his daughter was unable to secure a husband for the last three years.”
Elizabeth was both disappointed and enraged. Could the man who had so hatefully spat those words at her at Almack’s be this Timothy Williams, who was related to her? His social standing had clearly been good enough to be admitted into those exclusive ballrooms. And if that same man was, indeed, her cousin who had duelled Colin, he was also well off enough to be able to give his daughter three Seasons in London, so surely, such venom was unwarranted? Especially towards her, who had done nothing wrong!
“Did Colin… Is my cousin alive?”
“He’s alive for now,” was all Mrs. Cooper said, and Lizzie nodded.
When Lady Burnham learned of the duel, she didn’t have the reaction Elizabeth had been expecting from her.
“Real men always used to duel for a lady’s honour,” she said with approval and something suspiciously resembling wistfulness in her voice.
Elizabeth shook her head with a smile. “It’s a grand gesture, but I’m not certain it is wise.”
“Do you really expect wisdom in love?” Lady Burnham asked, and Elizabeth was too stunned to respond, so she changed the subject as soon as she regained the power of speech.
On the third day, Colin woke up. Elizabeth had been reading by his bedside, and she suddenly got the feeling that she was being watched. She looked up and was met with his sleepy smile.
“Hello, wife.”
“Hello,” she replied, confused by her own joy. “How are you feeling?”
“My arm hurts, but other than that, all right.”
“Well, the arm is your own fault,” she told him, and he nodded with a small smile. “Let me ring for Stevenson, then we’ll get Doctor Cooper in here to look at you.”
In the following days, Elizabeth’s husband slowly started eating more, sitting up more, but there were still some things he needed a lot of assistance with, and somehow, it was always she who had to run to his aid in order to help him sit up, get dressed, or just sit and read to him. Elizabeth secretly cherished these opportunities because they allowed her to touch him, to reassure herself that he was alive and here with her.
