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“Why would he fall from your window?”

“He … was … following me.” Simon knew it. He had encouraged Nicholas to be more like himself. The boy must have come to visit him in his room and seen the window Simon had left open. The window he had left open so he might sneak back in. And Nicholas had decided to be brave, so he had followed Simon to join him on an unknown adventure. But he was a small boy who had misjudged the distance to the trellis.

Lord Blackwood grunted, approaching the bed to reach out a trembling hand toward the leg. “Is he …” For the first time in his life, Simon witnessed his father overcome.

“He lives yet. MacNaby has sent for a doctor.”

The baron nodded, his eyes moist as he stared down at his youngest son. Simon wished the old man would rage at him, blame him for what he had done in leading his little brother astray. Lord Blackwood must have realized what had transpired, but instead, he plopped down on the edge of the bed and panted in shock, as if his emotions were attacking his aged body.

The next few hours were a blur. The doctor arrived, his face grim as he examined the boy. Eventually, he set the leg. Nicholas mumbled a little when the bone was pushed back in place but did not awaken despite what must have been agonizing pain. Once the leg was set, the doctor stepped out into the hall to discuss the situation with Lord Blackwood. Simon joined them.

“There is bruising on the boy’s head, but little that can be done. It is a matter of time before we know his condition. The hope is that he awakens in the next few hours. If he does not … there is no method to predict head injuries, I am afraid. It is a matter of time.”

His father nodded at the news, his expression distant. “What of the leg?”

“A very bad break. It is certain the boy will have a limp, but it is the head injury that worries me most. With a situation like this … you should prepare yourself for the worst, my lord.”

Simon’s stomach clenched into a tight knot, but he kept his wits about him, noting the doctor’s instructions with great attention to detail, including the administration of the laudanum he provided. He was battling with a dark tide of emotion threatening to drag him under, but he had to be present and take care of Nicholas, and he could not afford the luxury of lamenting his role in his little brother’s downfall. His tiny brother, who looked up to him.

His mother arrived to see her youngest boy but became hysterical when she saw he had still not awakened, so Lord Blackwood led her away. “Come, my dear, perhaps a little laudanum would do your nerves some good.”

Some hours later, in the early hours of the morning, Simon sat alone beside Nicholas’s bed to keep vigil. His brother was pale and vulnerable beneath the covers. Full of life and energy just hours earlier, Simon would give anything for the boy to open his eyes and say something.

He thought about how he had encouraged his little brother to break the rules and buck authority, and without warning, his guilt resurfaced as he bowed his head to weep, his shoulders shuddering with the force of it. If Nicholas died, it would be his fault. He had done this!

I am a selfish bastard.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Simon got down on his knees, clasping his hands together to pray.

Please, Lord, I am so sorry for my hubris! I promise to do my duty if you allow Nicholas to live!