“Of course.”
Leaning heavily on his strength, with Lady Helena hovering at her side, Eugenia walked slowly across the battlements toward the door. All she wanted was to return to her rooms, crawl into her bed and hide away under the covers. Her trembling did not ease, and she felt faintly ill. With the first rush of terror over, she felt the front of her body burning from the many scrapes the unforgiving stone had given her. Glancing down, she discovered her gown had been torn.
Wrapping her cloak tightly around herself to hide it, Eugenia glanced up when the door into the castle suddenly opened. Lord Wilmot stepped through, clad in a dark blue coat, white ruffled shirt, tidy cravat, and black trousers. “I say,” he exclaimed, taking in the sight of Maximilian assisting Eugenia to walk. “Did something happen?”
Instinctively, Eugenia moved away from Maximilian’s protection, feeling heat rise to her cheeks at her unseemly appearance. She felt Lord Wilmot’s eyes crawling over her and tried to tidy herself. She managed a small curtsey and noticed from the corner of her eye, Lady Helena do the same.
“An accident,” Maximilian replied tersely. “It is all right now.”
“Ah,” Lord Wilmot replied. “Jolly good, then.”
As quickly as he appeared, Lord Wilmot turned and left the battlement, returning the way he had come. Though she felt relief when he no longer stared at her, Eugenia found it odd that he did not remain on the battlements as Lady Helena said he liked to do. She guessed that was why he went there in the first place.
“I want Mr. Leary to look at you,” Maximilian murmured.
Eugenia shook her head. “I am fine, really. I just want to lie down for a while.”
Her half-healed bruises awakened, her scrapes burning, Eugenia, with Maximilian’s help, made her slow way down the stairs to Lady Helena's apartments. At the door, Maximilian stopped, gazing down at her. “I will leave you to the ministrations of Lady Helena,” he said. “I will send food to you here and a maid to help both Lady Helena and you.”
Eugenia nodded. “Your Grace, thank you.”
After bending her knees in a painful curtsey, she gazed up into his face. Rage and worry warred across his rugged handsomeness, yet it was concern that won out. “Get your rest, Miss Betham.”
This time she found a small smile for him. “I will.”
Hidden by her cloak, Maximilian took her hand and squeezed it, his eyes softening as he gazed down at her. “I am so sorry this is happening to you,” he murmured.
“It is not your fault.”
He nodded. “Yes. I think it is. I will look in on you later.”
Watching him go, Eugenia wanted to call him back, to throw caution to the wind and ask him to sit by her, hold her hand while she slept. Craving his arms around her again, she simply looked at him and watched him walk away, his head down. Lady Helena's arm around her shoulder urged her inside while Mr. Oldman once more took up his station outside the door.
* * *
Despite her youth and natural resilience, Eugenia found recovering from this latest attack on her life difficult to overcome. Visions of falling to the unforgiving rocks at the castle’s base haunted her sleep. She would wake, gasping for breath, sweating, yet feeling cold chills crawl across her flesh. The damage done to her body healed faster than the damage done to her spirit, her soul.
There is an evil man walking in this castle.
She knew how truly big this castle was, and how easily a man might hide within its walls. She imagined he came and went as he pleased, emerging to wreak havoc upon her life and Maximilian’s, then vanish like a ghost, never to be seen again until he stepped out to try to again. There were empty rooms by the score and cellars no one has used for a hundred years – a perfect place for a murderer to lurk, hiding, biding his time.
“Stop brooding.”
Eugenia glanced up from her mending of one of Lady Helena's gowns to find her mistress – fists on her hips and frowning at her. Only then did she realized she had not made a stitch for several minutes, and Lady Helena noticed. Swallowing hard, Eugenia tried to refocus on her needlework and pushed the needle through the cloth.
“It has been three days, Eugenia,” Lady Helena said, now sitting beside her on the couch. “You have hardly left these rooms. The Duke is going out of his mind worrying about you.”
“I feel safe here.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” Lady Helena rested her hand on Eugenia’s. “But you cannot become another Clara, remaining in these chambers for years uncounted, hardly leaving them. If you do, I know your spirit will wither and die. I will not let that happen.”
“I cannot face out there,” Eugenia whispered, her voice trembling “He is hiding somewhere in this castle, waiting for me to come out, to hurt me. I can feel his malice on my skin, feel his eyes on me.”
Lady Helena rubbed her arms, shivering. “Now you have given me the frights. But we both cannot,mustnot, live our lives in fear. You are missed, Eugenia. Even your little friend from the kitchen approached me to ask if you were coming back.”
“Please?” Eugenia asked, scrubbing her face with her hands. “I need more time.”
“One more day,” Lady Helena replied, her tone one that informed Eugenia that she meant every word. “Then you will start living your life again and face your fears. For if you do not do it soon, I know they will take over, and you will never be free of them.”
