Chapter Twenty One

"Where has Colin run off to? I haven't seen him all day," said Archibald as he emerged from the study.

"I don't know, Uncle Archie. I hope he returns for the party but I understand if he's not up to it," said Mary.

"He should be there. It's the right thing to do as a gentleman and your friend."

"I appreciate that but I know he's been quite upset about Dickon and me since he found out. Perhaps…" She paused. "Perhaps it would be best just to let him be."

"You're too kind, Mary. This evening is for you and Dickon, and I don't want my son spoiling it by causing any disturbances either through his presence or his absence."

"Then I'm afraid he cannot win."

"He's far too jealous for his own good. I can't make him see."

Mary wanted the same things for Colin as his father did, but she was surprised that Uncle Archie would try to force Colin to attend the party. Such a thing could make him miserable and in turn, make everyone else miserable as well. He was right that Colin was the sort to try and upstage others, especially since he held ill feelings toward Dickon. Hoping that he would attend and be gracious was a fantastic notion that Mary tried to hold on to, but she was aware that even when he wasn't around, he commanded everyone's care and attention. The years he had been hidden away he had been in control of the manor. Everyone ran to do his bidding lest he become upset. He's grown accustomed to being the center of everyone's universe. Now he had to accept that he was not the chosen one, and he was just a young man made of flesh and blood like everyone else. Mrs. Medlock and Martha hadn't lived for his beck and call for years now, and they weren't keen on reprising the roles they had once been forced to play in Colin's little drama.

Archibald touched Mary's elbow and she started.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You seemed so far away just now."

"I was thinking about what you said."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"I guess I'm just sad because of things that cannot be."

"That's something we share, dear girl. But let's put it aside for one day and let you and Dickon have your moment in the spotlight."

Mary shivered.

"You don't care to be the center of attention, do you?"

"No, not at all. But I know having this party is important for social reasons, so I will do my very best."

Archibald embraced her and stepped back as Dickon entered. "I'll leave you two alone. I have a few last minute things to attend to before our guests arrive."

Mary smiled warmly and turned to Dickon once her uncle had departed. His eyes glinted mischievously and Mary didn't have time to wonder what he might be up to before he swept her into his arms and kissed her. He'd never been so bold in such an open place. Anyone could have walked in and seen them, and Mary was torn between the fear of being caught and the warmth of Dickon's embrace. The latter won, and she leaned against him in a most improper manner, enjoying the sensation of his fingers in her hair when a small cough sounded in the hallway. They jumped apart and Mary blushed crimson.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you lovebirds," said Martha as she flit across the hallway. "Don't mind me, carry on!" She scooted away so quickly, Mary had no time to say one word.

Dickon burst out laughing.

"Dickon, it's not funny!" Mary admonished him.

"'Tis only Martha. She understands."

"Even so, I'd rather we weren't seen."

"Aye," he said with a wicked grin, and he pulled her gently into the dark alcove beneath the stairs. "Better?"

Before Mary could speak, Dickon claimed her lips again and kissed her breathless. Heady with delight, thoughts of Colin disappeared from her mind and she realized how foolish she'd been to have wasted so much time on her cousin when she had just what she wanted right here in her arms. She resolved to devote her attentions exclusively to Dickon and end this double-mindedness. She'd been carrying the burden of Colin's happiness around with her and it dampened her spirits and stole her joy. The softness and warmth of Dickon's touch reminded Mary of where she needed to focus her energies. Dickon had patiently tolerated all of the time and effort given to Colin because they were all friends, but he deserved so much more from his future wife. She clung to him tightly, and when she felt him part his lips against hers, she allowed their kiss to become a more passionate one than they'd ever shared before. A delicious shiver ran down Mary's spine and her knees grew weak as Dickon moved to placed hot kisses on her neck, she did not feel one bit guilty for choosing him after all.

Colin's stomach lurched as he pulled himself into a sitting position. The taste of warm metal swirled around his mouth and he spat blood onto the grass beside him. His head throbbed and the world around him looked blurry and surreal. The last thing he remembered was sitting at the poker table, but clearly he was not even in the pub anymore. What had happened? Too much ale, he thought. That's what happened. He touched his mouth and found a gash in his lip, his fingers coming away tinged with blood. He felt around inside his mouth in a panic, and with a relieved sigh found all of his teeth intact. Small favors, he thought.

Trying to lift himself up, his stomach heaved again so he lay again on his back in the grass, observing the distorted sky. A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and Colin silently cursed England for being so damned wet and rainy. He had no idea where he was, but guessed he must have had a run-in with the shady looking characters at the poker table that hadn't ended well. He felt around his pockets and found them turned out and empty. Even his shoes were taken, for he felt the tickle of blades of grass on his feet.

Colin had had his share of arguments with men over games and money, but never before had he been so thoroughly beaten and tossed out like trash. He usually talked or bribed his way out of beatings, but he'd met his match last night.

The party. He was supposed to go to Mary and Dickon's engagement party. Was that last night or tonight? Random thoughts swirled in and out of his consciousness, the face of Catherine, his father's stern voice, Mary's laughter, Mrs. Medlock rushing about. Raindrops fell from the sky and smacked into his wounds, making him wince with the sting of pain. He rolled onto his side and after a few deep breaths that revealed soreness in his ribs, he tried to pull himself up onto his knees. Spending a few minutes adjusting to this new position and the new pains it brought, he shuffled to his feet and fought to find balance. The throbbing in his head tripled in intensity as his body struggled to shift blood to his brain, and he groaned loudly.

Colin did not know how much time had passed before he was able to see straight, but finally he surveyed his surroundings with a semblance of clarity and saw open fields in all directions but one, and the town he'd visited looked a tiny thing in the distance. Those men had truly left him for dead. No one would find him out here.

Shuffling forward, he made his way toward what he thought was a road, and felt a moment of hope when his feet came into contact with packed earth instead of grass. He followed the road in the opposite direction of the town, unsure where it led but unwilling to return to that Godforsaken place. Giant raindrops plopped down, soaking him to the skin in only a few minutes. Soon his toes squished through thick mud as the road dissolved under the pelting rain. He pulled his jacket up around his ears and shivered violently, wondering if anyone might come along the road and take pity on him. He didn't have long to wait, for a quarter hour later the sound of hoof beats and cart wheels rose up on the road behind him. Colin expected the rider to whip past him, so he moved off the road and onto the grass to let the man pass, but the horse slowed as Colin strained to see through the torrential rains.

"Are tha' hurt?" the voice shouted, competing with a thunderous roar emanating from the sky.

"Please, could you possibly offer me a ride to Miselthwaite Manor?" he croaked, heretofore unaware of the dryness in his throat.

"Aye," came the voice again, and the man climbed down from the driver's seat. Colin allowed himself to be lifted by strong arms and set in the cart, his pride already heavily damaged so that it mattered little what he looked like now. No other words were spoken, and Colin drifted in and out of consciousness as the cart sped through the rain, jostling him violently back and forth against the wood.

At some point the cart stopped and he felt himself being lifted and carried once again. He barely registered being laid on a bed as the softness of the downy comforter provided a measure of relief from his pains. Low voices sounded, male and female together, and soon his clothing was being stripped from him and his feet washed. A cloth dabbed at his face accompanied by low murmurings he could not decipher. He had no idea where he was or who was tending to him, but he didn't care. Everything hurt: his body, his pride, his heart. He lay broken in every way, relying on the mercy of others to help put him back together.

A/N Sorry again for such a short chapter, but I will try and have a new one up soon. Thanks for reading!