Jordan let the papers lay on the desk and leaned back. “Which begs the question, who tried to kill Mr. Cooper?”
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Thomas gasped from her place on the settee.
“Do you have any thoughts on the matter, Perkins?” Matthew asked and turned to the doorway, but the valet was no longer in the room.
Surely Perkins wasn’t responsible. He took a step in the direction of the door but Miss Cooper was ahead of him.
“Perkins?” she called. “Where are you? Where did you go?”
The man had disappeared but the front door was still closed and they would have heard it open and shut wouldn’t they. Miss Cooper turned down the hall and hastened to her father’s room. The door was cracked and she pushed it open. Matthew stopped behind her and looked in to the room. Her father lay on his bed, a coverlet pulled up to his chest. His eyes were closed and his pallor as white as the sheets he rested upon. A bandage was wrapped around his head and blood seeped through the pristine material, staining it a bright crimson. Perkins stood at the window in discussion with Dr. Norton. The men glanced up when Miss Cooper walked into the room.
“How is my father?”
Her voice shook but she held steady. Once again Matthew placed a hand at her waist to offer steady support and be there if she collapsed from the strain and shock of this situation.
“He remains unconscious.” The doctor began putting items into a bag.
“When will he wake up?” Miss Cooper demanded.
The doctor looked up, his face grim. “I am not sure.”
She went slack for a moment and Matthew tightened his grip but Miss Cooper quickly recovered, though Matthew did not relinquish his hold.
“I don’t understand.”
The doctor straightened and came forward. “He had a nasty fall. I am not sure he doesn’t have broken bones, but it is his head I am concerned with. He already suffered from previous injuries; this may be more than he can take.”
“What are you saying?” Miss Cooper leaned into Matt, as if seeking support or safety, he wasn’t sure.
“I doubt he will ever wake and it is only a matter of time before he …”
“No,” Miss Cooper shouted, cutting the doctor off. “I don’t want to hear it. You said that before and he lived. You could be wrong again.”
The man sadly shook his head and looked over her to Matt. “Send word if I am needed.” Dr. Norton brushed past those gathered in the room and down the hall. Miss Cooper pulled away from Matthew and sank down in a chair beside her father’s bed. She grasped his hand in hers. “You must wake up, Papa. You must.”
Matthew wanted to go to her, take Miss Cooper in his arms and shield her from her pain, but what comfort he could offer would not lessen her grief. Jordan grabbed his arm and motioned for Matthew to follow him in to the hall. He did so, with one last look at Miss Cooper. She wouldn’t know if they were in the room or not, and Perkins could come get him if he were needed, and the only reason he would be needed is if Mr. Cooper passed on. He hoped that didn’t come to be.
Jordan waited for him in the foyer. “Who do you think tried to kill Mr. Cooper?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“If I were one to make a wager, I would suspect your client.” Only Lord Stillwaite had anything to gain by the demise of his brother. The three suitors only had one-third of a chance of Miss Cooper choosing them so murder was hardly worth the risk if one ended up without the prize in the end.
Jordan stiffened. “Stillwaite wanted Cooper put away, and had a chance of that happening, and at the very least end up with guardianship and control of the estate. Why result to murder before a decision was made?”
Matthew didn’t have an answer.
“It would have to be someone strong enough to get Mr. Cooper up the stairs.”
He walked to the landing and glance up to the second floor.
“And younger than Stillwaite?” Jordan added.
Matthew had to agree. The man may be older and healthier than his younger brother, but he knew from experience from helping Mr. Cooper that the older man could not have accomplished this on his own, if he were responsible.”
There were dents in the wall and a few of the wood bannisters were broken. Blood smeared on the lower part of the wall the closer to the landing, as well as the lower steps, with a small pool on the floor after the first step. “Was the damage caused from the fall or did Mr. Cooper fight while being hauled up the stairs?”
“Possibly both,” Jordan answered. He and Matthew slowly walked up the stairs, examining the dents and splintering caused to Mr. Cooper or his assailant. He placed his hand on the railing, it moved easily. “I will need to have someone come in and fix this before anyone is injured or it gives way.
Jordan nodded and went down on his haunches, looking toward the foyer. Matthew followed his line of vision. There were sixteen steps on the stairs. It was impossible for Mr. Cooper to navigate himself, even with the help of the bannister. Someone brought him up here and then pushed him down. But who?
Matthew stood and slowly walked back down the steps, once again examining the broken brackets, chips in the wall and blood on the steps, trying to determine when and how the damage had been done. When he reached the bottom he looked back up at Jordan. “I think Mr. Cooper fought with his murderer going up the stairs, which is how the spindles were broken.”
Jordan nodded in agreement.
“The damage to the walls was from when Mr. Cooper was pushed.
“I agree.” Jordan sauntered down the steps and stopped three steps from the bottom.
“That is where his head hit the wall last, and then hit each step before he came to a stop here.” Matthew pointed to each area smeared with blood and finally at the pool drying by his feet.
Mrs. Thomas came around the corner, her pelisse in place, hat on her head and gripping her reticule.
“Would you be so kind as to clean this before Miss Cooper sees the blood?”
The woman took a step back, eyes wide with shock. “I will do no such thing. I am leaving this house.”
Matthew moved forward. “I understand you are upset but Miss Cooper could be overset when she sees her father’s blood and her day has already been trying enough.”
Mrs. Thomas continued to back toward the door. “A murderer came to this house and I am lucky to have survived it. There is no saying he won’t be back so I am going home and plan on never returning.”
With that she spun on her heel and practically ran out the door.
Matthew moved to go after her.
“Let her go. There is nothing you can say that will make her remain.”
He stopped at the entry and watched Mrs. Thomas hustle down the road. With a sigh he closed the door. Mrs. Thomas was right about one thing, the murderer could return. If he learned that Mr. Cooper did not die, would he come back to finish the task in fear of being identified and simply to take care of what he finished? If he did, what would stop him from harming Miss Cooper as well? They didn’t even know the reason someone tried to kill Mr. Cooper and until they did, she was not safe.
“I’ll clean this up. You should be with Miss Cooper.”
Jordan clean? How much did he not know of his brother? Or, perhaps Jordan was simply used to cleaning up after his own messes and didn’t mind doing so for someone else. Matthew stopped himself before asking. He should not assume the worst of his brother and vowed that when the more pressing issues were behind them he was going to sit down with his brother and have a long talk. There were so many questions and Matthew wasn’t exactly sure if he was prepared for the answers just yet.
“Thank you,” Matthew finally uttered.
“When I am finished I will go see Brachton. He should know of this.”
Matthew turned to face his brother and thrust his fingers through his hair. “You are right.” His eyes met Jordan’s. “Hopefully Mrs. Montgomery and her daughter have taken their leave before you arrive.”
Jordan winced and looked away, saying nothing. Why couldn’t his brother meet his eyes? “What happened between the two of you?”
“Now is not the time to worry about a past misunderstanding.”
Misunderstanding? Miss Montgomery’s reaction to Jordan was much more than a mere misunderstanding. Matthew continued to watch his brother, hoping for more of an explanation. Finally Jordan looked at him. “Let it go, Matt. At least for now.”
The pain was evident by the darkening of his brother’s normally light blue eyes. Yes, there was more to the situation than a mere misunderstanding but he would not press right now. Jordan didn’t wish to talk about the events and Miss Cooper needed him. With that, Matthew turned on his heel and returned to the bedchamber where he paused in the doorway.
Nothing had changed. Perkins stood at the ready while Mr. Cooper lay silent and unconscious in his bed and Miss Cooper held his hand, begging him to wake. It tore at his heart and Matthew sent a quick prayer asking that Mr. Cooper open his eyes or if that was not God’s will, that he take the pain and give Miss Cooper the strength for what was to come.
The afternoon lengthened into night but Grace barely noted the room darkening or Perkins lighting lamps. She was acutely aware of Vicar Trent settled in a chair at the corner of the room, watching her and watching her father, ready to offer assistance if needed. Several times he had pressed a cup of tea into her hand and later a bowl of soup. Where he had come by it she had no idea, nor the energy to ask. After a few bites it had been set aside. She had no appetite. Instead, she tried to get broth past her father’s lips with Perkins holding him upright. But she couldn’t get him to drink the fluid and the broth simply ran down his chin and onto his nightshirt. Nor were they able to get him to drink tea or water. If her father didn’t cooperate, he would starve, thus ensuring his death. She could not allow that. She would not allow it. But what was she to do.