He opened his mouth and formed the word carefully, speaking the truth because that was all he could do. “No.”
Her eyes left his for a moment, and he grasped her shoulders to keep his balance. “What is wrong with him, do you know?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this,” Rebecca said.
Her black eyes returned to his, and he felt relief. “Come with me.”
He nodded, his throat working convulsively, and stumbled after her like a drunken man. Their progress was slow, and he knew that sweat was running down his cheeks. He kept her constantly in his vision, a guideline to sanity. Then, suddenly, there were doors, and he tumbled out into cool, fresh air. It was a veranda with a low rail. He made it to one end before spewing over the rail and into the bushes.
“He’s ill,” Sam heard Rebecca say as he gulped great breaths of air. “Maybe he ate something spoiled. We should send for a doctor.”
“No.” His voice emerged a strangled rasp. He cleared his throat, fighting to sound normal. “No doctor.”
Behind him, Rebecca made a sound of distress. He wished he could face her, reassure her that nothing was wrong.
“Mr. Hartley,” Lady Emeline murmured very close to him. She laid her hand on his shoulder. He hunched it. Shameful for any woman to see him like this, let alone her. “You’re ill. Please satisfy your sister’s worry and let us send for a physician.”
Sam closed his eyes, willing his body to stop shaking, to stop betraying him with phantom fears. “No.”
Her hand fell away. “Rebecca, can you wait with your brother whilst I fetch some wine? Perhaps that will revive him.”
“Yes, certainly,” Rebecca replied.
And then Lady Emeline started to leave him. He heard a low groaning and realized dimly that it was himself, but he couldn’t stop the sound, nor the urge to make her stay by his side. He turned, meaning to keep her there, but instead he was brought up short by what he saw.
Lord Vale stood in the doorway to the ballroom.
JASPER SHUT THE French doors behind him, smiled his careless, charming smile, and said, “Emmie! Godsblood, hadn’t expected to see you here.”
All Emeline could think was, How am I to get him out of the way? Hardly a kind sentiment for a man she’d known all her life, but there it was. It was imperative to get Samuel away before Jasper saw how bad his condition was. Somehow she knew that Samuel would hate to have another man see him like this.
It had happened so suddenly in the ballroom. She’d felt him stiffen as they’d entered the house but thought nothing of it. Many would be nervous at such a gathering of the ton. But he’d slowed as they’d advanced into the ballroom. Even allowing for the awkwardness of moving through the crowd, Samuel had walked oddly. Until she had at last looked up into his face and had seen he was in agony. What kind of agony—whether mental or physical—she did not know, but everything about him, from the closed eyes to the pale and sweating face to the way he suddenly clutched her hand bespoke great pain. The idea that this strong man was in pain made her almost paralyzed. It was as if she’d felt a corresponding pain deep within her own being. She’d led him out of the ballroom as quickly as possible, the whole time aware of his silent agony.
And now she must deal with Jasper.
Emeline squared her shoulders and assumed her most haughty expression—the one she’d learned in the nursery growing up the daughter of an earl. But as it turned out, there was no need. Jasper wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were fixed behind her, presumably on Samuel.
“Hartley? I say, it is Corporal Hartley, isn’t it?” Jasper asked.
“Yes.” The single word was clipped out from behind her.
Emeline turned and saw that Samuel was upright now, no longer leaning against the railing, although his face was still pale and shone with sweat. He was unmoving, as though waiting for something. Beside him, Rebecca hovered hesitantly, looking from one man to the other, her expression clearly confused.
Jasper took a step closer. “I haven’t seen you since...” His voice trailed off as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the name.
“Since Spinner’s Falls.”
“Yes.” All the usual amusement was gone from Jasper’s face, and without it, Emeline saw the lines carved beside his long nose and too-wide mouth.
“Did you know we were betrayed?” Samuel asked softly.
That startled Jasper. He drew his hairy brows together. “What?”
“Someone betrayed the regiment. Do you know anything about that?”
“Why would I?”
Samuel shrugged. “You were in debt to Clemmons.”