Noah didn't wish to spend a second longer in London, not when his entire being ached for his wife. He knew if he left immediately, he would arrive at Camden in the middle of the night and would risk getting robbed by highwaymen, but his desperation to be with Beatrice—to share her warmth and her bed—drove him to pack his bags and board the carriage back home.
Exhausted from the long trip, Noah was thankful when he shoved the curtains aside to find he was in Camden. In half an hour or less, he would be in bed with his wife.
A small smile settled on his lips. Beatrice would be asleep right now and he would certainly need to sneak into her bed and awaken her in order to surprise her, but he imagined the excitement on her face at the sight of him. He imagined she would jump into his arms and kiss him until he was breathless.
And how he longed for the warmth of her lips; the sweet caress of her arms; the wonderful sound of her voice. How his heart ached to be reconnected with hers! How he loved her and would do anything to keep her safe! It was his desperation for her safety that had driven him to London in the first place; he had gone to London to get rid of the threat that was her father.
No doubt, the old croon would refrain from hurting Beatrice again, or Noah was certain he would not hesitate to commit murder. He didn't care what he had to do to keep his wife safe.
Just as the thought flashed through his mind, his gaze settled on what appeared to be a man on horseback. The white mane looked awfully familiar, he thought, a small frown dispelling his smile. It looked similar to his horse, a pure breed he had spent a fortune acquiring.
The horse kept a steady pace, slow enough that his carriage caught up to it. The carriage slowed when it reached its side, and it was in that second that Noah saw the rider. Worse than that, he saw the woman who lay limply on the horse, as if asleep. His breath caught in his throat.
"Mother!" he forced the word out of trembling lips, just as the carriage pulled to a complete halt. He shoved the door open before the footman could get to it and climbed down in time to watch his butler stop the horse as well.
"My lord!" Richardson remained seated, clinging to Noah's mother as Noah approached.
"What in the world?!" he barked, hurrying to his mother's side. He retrieved her unconscious form in his arms and placed her on the snow.
"There was an accident," Richardson was saying, as Noah touched his mother's pale face. The sight of her caused his heart to skip a beat. "Joseph died in it. If we hadn't come in search of her ladyship, she would have died as well." Noah barely registered the words Richardson spoke as he lifted his mother off of the snow and carried her to his carriage. He placed her across the cushioned seat.
"Ride to the physician's home immediately and summon him!" He climbed in with her.
"I'm afraid I can't do that right now, my lord!"
Turning eyes of steel to his butler, Noah fought to keep his emotions in check. "Why not, Richardson?"
Richardson shook his head. "My lady, the marchioness"—he motioned to the woods—"is still out there."
Noah gaped at him, his heart stopping as the implications of his words sank in. Beatrice was in the woods?! Perhaps she was in danger? But how? The last time he saw her, she was safe and sound. He had kissed her goodbye, determined not to heed her plea to disregard her father and stay with her in Camden. He had left her side, and his decision to do so had put her life in danger.
Breathless, he staggered forward. "Where is she?"
"I'm uncertain." Richardson said, and Noah saw red. He clenched his fist, afraid he'd punch his butler in the nose if he didn't.
"What do you mean?" He forced the words out through clenched teeth.
"I left her at the scene of the accident."
"You what?!" It took all of his willpower not to grab the butler by his lapels.
"She insisted; I swear, my lord! She would have me take my lady to safety. She swore she could find her way home," he said, his words sending a shiver of fear down Noah's spine. It was impossible for Beatrice to find the proper path home alone, when she knew little to nothing about Camden, least of all Camden in the middle of the snow! Noah needed to find her!
"Take my mother home! Summon the physician!" he barked, grabbing the reins of the horse and mounting it swiftly. He turned the horse around, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he buried his heel in its flank and urged it to a gallop.
Time passed before he found the broken carriage with his footman dead inside. His heart sank at the sight, falling further into the pit of his stomach when he didn't find Beatrice at the scene. He knew she had wandered away to retrace her steps back home, but he was certain she would fail in her attempt.
How long had Beatrice been out in the snow? He shook his head, failing to rid his mind of the dreadful image of her lying dead in the snow. The very thought of losing her threatened to drive him mad; tears blurring his vision as he stirred his horse away from the carriage in the direction he hoped Beatrice had gone.
He barely felt the sting of the snow or the numbing of his limbs, only the overwhelming urge to find Beatrice and get her to safety. Still, hope waned with the time that blurred by, and weak, he was on the verge of giving up when he spotted something in the distance. A speck of green, tainting the snow.
His heart leaping at the sight, he urged his horse forward, causing the image to become clearer. Indeed, the green speck was the hem of Beatrice's dress, half buried in the snow. She sat on a fallen tree, hunched forward, her face buried in her knees as she hugged them to her chest.
His body warmed with relief, and barely reaching her, he jumped down from the horse and hurried to her.
"Bea!" he gasped, breathless, fatigued by the fear of losing her. "My love." He knelt before her still form, drawing her into his arms. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he kissed her icy cheek. "Oh, my love!"
A soft whimper drifted from her lips in response. Shrugging off his coat, he draped it over her, ignoring the bite of the ice as he carried her in his arms and placed her on the horse. Silence stood between them through the trip home. Beatrice remained deathly still in his arms with her eyes closed and her head pressed to his chest. Her arms lay limply on his thighs, her labored breaths warming his neck. Fear for her well-being coursed through his spine, and guilt forced tears to his eyes.
He blamed himself. If he hadn't gone to London in his desperation to mete out vengeance on her father for what he did! If she had died... if he had lost her... he would never have forgiven himself. And he would have indeed lost her if he had remained in London for a second longer. I need, if he hadn't returned tonight, she would be dead.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, tightening his hold around her. "Oh, my love, I should never have left you. It's my fault. I was such a fool."
He pulled the horse to a halt before his house. Shoving the door open with his boots, he was greeted by a handful of maids in the lobby. Their eyes widened at the sight of their mistress.
"Heat some water!" he gave the command in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him.
"We already have water boiling on the stove after the dowager Lady Camden came in nearly an hour ago. Richardson wanted us to leave some in case something like this happened," his housekeeper said, motioning to Beatrice. "I shall bring some towels and a hot pot of tea."
Nodding to her words, he carried Beatrice up the stairs to his bedchamber. Leaning down, he placed her on the bed, turning her over on her back and reaching for her laces. He undid them, a tremor passing through her body as he slid her wet clothes off of her.
"Forgive me." He briefly pressed a kiss to her cool back, before leaning back to finish the work of undressing her.
The maids worked in the background as well, their hasty footsteps and silent chattering echoing in the room as they went about lighting the hearth and setting things in order.
"Would you like me to help, my lord?" a maid called from across the room. He turned to find her holding a steaming bowl.
"What?"
"Some warm water, my lord."
"Bring it here; I shall do it myself."
Nodding, she crossed the room to him, and taking the bowl from her, he took the towel and wiped Bea clean with it. Then the maid handed him Bea's nightdress and he helped her into it, securing the dressing gown firmly with a belt. He replaced her trembling form on the bed and placed the sheets over her.
"How is my mother doing?" he asked the maid.
"The physician is with her right now, my lord."
"Stay here with your mistress while I check on my mother."
"Yes, my lord."
Leaning down to place a kiss on Beatrice's forehead, he exited the room and made his way to his mother's bedchamber. The physician, an older gentleman with a balding head, was by the fireplace packing his instruments into a black bag when Noah entered the room. He straightened, hearing Noah's footsteps, and turned to him.
"Camden," he called in greeting.
"Mr. Smith, thank you for coming on such short notice."
He nodded, motioning to Catherine. "She's asleep right now, but from what I can see, her wounds are mostly artificial."
"She was unconscious when we found her."
"Likely from the shock caused by the accident, or perhaps the impact. Perhaps she hit her head. I'm uncertain, but she awakened a few minutes ago."
"She did?" He turned to her, hurrying over to her side. Leaning down, he touched her damp forehead.
"She was in so much pain, I needed to give her something to help her sleep."
"But she shall recover?"
"Indeed. There are no broken bones or anything; I made sure."
"I must beg that you return in the morning to confirm it."
"I shall."
"Thank you."
After giving Richardson the instructions to pay Mr. Smith for his services on his way out, Noah returned to Beatrice's side. He stripped off his damp clothes, tossed them to the side and settled in bed with her. He drew her to himself, burying his nose in the crook of her neck as he breathed her in.
He would have lost her tonight, he thought, tightening his hold around her. It was the third time in one year he had nearly lost her, and as he pulled his eyelids shut, he decided it was going to be the last.