The world around Ben froze. His gaze locked to the place where Eve had disappeared over the quay. He ran to the edge, ripping his coat off.
Her head bobbed to the surface. She started coughing. Her mouth filled with water as her petticoats and gown dragged her under again.
Ben tugged off his boots in seconds. Spotting the muted light blue of her skirts through the muddy water, he plunged into the Thames feet first as close to her as possible. The river burned his eyes, but he kept them open. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.
He’d judged the distance correctly, and she was within his reach. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kicked them toward the surface with Eve limp in his embrace. They broke through the water with shouts of “man overboard” echoing on the air. Someone jumped into the river, splashing him in the face and blinding him for a moment. Turning Eve in his hold, he cradled her back against his chest to keep her face from falling back in the water.
“Evie, wake up.” He tried to jostle her awake, but her head lolled to the side. “Please, Kitten. Wake up. Talk to me.” He couldn’t feel her chest moving. She wasn’t breathing. A rushing sound filled his ears.
A man grabbed his shoulder. “Give her to me.”
“No! I have her.” Ben wouldn’t entrust her to anyone else. Tightening his hold around her chest, he jerked her against him as the man reached for her. He couldn’t let her go. She lurched and began sputtering, coughing up water. Ben held her as violent coughs shook her body repeatedly. A sob built up in his chest, but he held it inside. He had to keep his wits about him to get her to safety. “Help me get her out of the water. She needs a doctor.”
The man held up the end of a rope. “Let’s get you both on land.”
Ben nodded and allowed him to tie the rope around Eve’s chest. He checked the knot twice before kissing her cheek. “Raise her up,” he barked.
Three men standing on the quay heaved on the line, and she began to rise from the river as Ben tried to lift from below. Rivulets of vile water ran from her stockings. She had lost a boot.
“Ben,” she croaked and reached a hand for him.
“I’m coming too, Evie. Hold on to the rope.”
She tried, but her grip was too weak and slipped off.
A man on the dock tossed another line to Ben, and he secured it around his middle. Now that Eve was being lifted over the side of the quay, he couldn’t get out of the water fast enough. Once a group of sailors pulled him to safety, he crawled the short distance to where Eve lay crumpled on her side in a puddle. Her eyes were closed, but her chest was moving.
“Eve.” He tugged her into his arms and buried his face in her soaked hair. A tremor shook him. He could have lost her. He still could if she became ill.
Mr. Cullip knelt beside him, handing him a blanket. “We should get her to your carriage.”
“Yes.” Ben draped the blanket around her and tried to stand with her in his arms, but his knees buckled.
One of the men who had rescued them stepped forward. “Let me help, Mr. Hillary.” He had been in the queue outside Hillary Shipping earlier.
Ben allowed him to take Eve. Mr. Cullip draped a second blanket over Ben’s shoulders and handed his boots to him. Ben shoved them on his feet and accepted Mr. Cullip’s hand up. “Send for Dr. Portier to meet us at the town house.”
“Yes, sir.” Mr. Cullip stayed long enough to see if Ben’s shaky legs would hold him, then bustled away, disappearing into the crowd.
Ben led the man carrying Eve to the carriage and climbed inside so he could reach down for her. Once they were settled on the bench with Eve on his lap, the man closed the door and his driver pulled away from the docks.
Eve rested her head on his shoulder. “Are you hurt?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Am I hurt? Good God, Evie. You weren’t breathing.” The sob he’d held inside burst from him like the howl of a wounded animal. A horrid shaking overtook his body, and all he could see was Eve’s lifeless body in his arms, her lips blue. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He clawed at the wet cravat around his neck.
Eve sat up. “I will get it.”
He unintentionally slapped at her hands in his desperation to loosen the knot. His fingers fumbled as panic welled in the back of his throat. A loud pounding filled his head, resounding in his ears.
“Ben, let me.” She reached for him, but he was already choking.
Black dots shrouded his vision, and a pressure intense enough to crack his ribs pressed on his chest. “Oh, God!” He hadn’t seen this coming and now he couldn’t stop it. Bucking against the weight holding him down—smothering him—he braced for the onslaught.
* * *
Eve landed on the carriage floor, stunned by the jarring impact. Ben stiffened on the bench, his arms jammed against the sides of the carriage. His breath left him in rapid, shallow huffs. Deep in his throat, there was a low moan. A hazy memory filtered into her awareness.
A strange noise came from Papa’s study; his door stood ajar. Hugging her doll, she inched toward the crack, hoping she wouldn’t find her brother inside. No one was allowed inside Papa’s study except Papa, and she hated when Papa made her stand at attention while Sebastian received raps on his knuckles or lashes against his backside. She would rather be the one punished.
Sitting by helplessly while someone she loved suffered was the worst sort of pain. “Ben.” She shifted to her knees to pull herself back onto the seat beside him—to offer him comfort.
“Stay!” The whip-crack command made her jump.
Sinking back to the floor, tears filled Eve’s eyes. She rested her hands on her knees, desperate to touch her husband while he fought against whatever had him in its grip. But she wouldn’t. She had learned to keep her distance that day in her father’s study.
Papa was sitting on the floor slumped against his desk, his face buried in his hands. Muffled sobs came from him.
“Oh, Papa.” She dropped her doll and went to throw her arms around his shoulders. He bellowed and swung out, his face frightening. His blow sent her flying into a pedestal, and a vase came crashing down on her. Her cheek bore the brunt of the hit. Eve didn’t mean to do it, but she wailed.
“Evie!” Her mother’s panicked voice and running footsteps sounded in the corridor. Mama burst into the study. Eve pushed to a seated position and cried harder. Mama dropped to her knees to gather her to her bosom. Eve sagged against her, feeling safe again. And then the worst happened.
“You hurt your daughter.” Mama shook in her rage. “What is wrong with you?”
The horrified look on Papa’s face caused Eve’s heart to stop.
That was the day he had exiled himself to his chambers. She would never forget that look. Ben wore the same tortured expression now.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. Defeat latched on to him and made his body slump forward. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Eve, what did I do to you?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.” Her throat had grown tight, and she feared crying in front of him. They were on shaky ground. One misstep, and she might drive him away.
Reaching for her, he drew her up on the seat beside him, then backed into the corner of the carriage as if he didn’t trust himself with her. “D-Did I hurt you?”
“No!” She scooted toward him, ignoring the wariness in his eyes, and threw her arms around his neck. “You saved my life.” She felt his arms tighten around her, and she melted against him, absorbing the slight tremors still traveling through his body.
“I want to hear what Dr. Portier thinks after he examines you,” he said.
Eve didn’t feel a doctor visit was necessary, but she wouldn’t argue. If he needed reassurance from Dr. Portier, he would get it. She would agree to anything to keep him from withdrawing from her.
The carriage rolled to a slow stop in front of their home. Ben helped her inside, calling out orders as they moved toward the stairs. “My wife needs a hot bath, and have Mrs. Beardmore prepare a pot of tea.”
“There’s no need to put anyone out,” she said, but Dobbins was already headed for the kitchen.
She caught a whiff of the river on her hair and thought perhaps a bath might be wise after all, especially when Dr. Portier was expected.
Upstairs in her chambers, Ben rang for her maid. When Alice appeared, he ordered her to strip Eve of her wet clothes and retrieve a wrapper.
“Yes, sir.” Alice hurried forward to work loose the fastenings of Eve’s gown while Ben stood there as if he had to oversee Alice’s duties.
His damp clothes clung to his still-quivering muscles. The shaking had slowed considerably, but the aftereffects of his attack were still evident.
The terror in his voice when he had realized she was falling still echoed in Eve’s ears. Knowing she had caused him pain like he’d experienced with Charlotte tore her heart in two. Eve bit her trembling bottom lip and willed herself not to cry. When tears welled in her eyes anyway, she turned her back to him. She needed a moment alone to collect herself.
“You should change too,” she said quietly. “I don’t want you to catch a chill.”
He hesitated but eventually spun on his heel and entered his chambers through the adjoining door.
When the lock tumbled, she burst into tears.
* * *
Ben was composing a letter in his study while he waited for the doctor. He couldn’t bear to look into Eve’s fearful eyes again. The sound of her sobbing in her chambers had shaken him.
Self-loathing was a bitter taste coating his tongue. He’d knocked her to the floor of the carriage during his attack. What type of ghastly fiend raised a hand against a lady? He’d been horrified when he’d injured his brother at the church, but this… How was he to live with the knowledge he had so little control over himself that he could hurt the one he loved most?
Her intense scrutiny in her room had revealed everything. She was afraid of him. He had made her afraid.
He pushed away from the desk, too on edge to sit still. What the devil had come over him? When he should have been comforting her in the carriage, he had lost his wits. He never should have taken her to the bloody docks. Accidents happened all the time, and yet he had allowed his pride to overrule good sense.
She needed to be sent somewhere she felt safe, at least until he could make sense of what was happening to him and gain control over himself. Ben returned to his desk to seal the letter. He wished he could claim confidence in his decision, but the thought of living apart from his wife—even temporarily—caused a sharp pang in his gut.
A knock sounded at his door. “Enter.”
It was Dobbins. “Dr. Portier has arrived, sir.”
Ben rose from his seat, snatching the letter from his desk. He handed it to his butler as he passed. “I will show the doctor to my wife’s chambers. See this is delivered to Thorne Place immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
If Ben could count on Sebastian Thorne to do anything, it was to protect Eve, especially from him.