The Earl of Brass (The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Book 1) Read Free Page B

Eilian’s eyes. His ribs squeezed until breathing was nearly impossible. His heart pounded as the words reverberated through his mind. He rubbed his shortened arm as he fought against the intense stinging in his eyes. Patrick was looking at him with the soft, concerned eyes of a friend, but he couldn’t bear to meet his gaze. As his roving fingers trailed to the curve of his arm, his resistance finally broke down. The stifled sobs shook his back, sending sharp pains through his ribs and spine. All hope drained from his body as he poured out his soul and strength to his friend. What if everything that could go wrong did?
    Patrick watched helplessly as Eilian finally broke into ragged, hiccupped sobs that sounded as painful as they were heart-wrenching. Never had he meant to make him cry. He had let his own built-up emotions and stress get the best of him and had taken it out on his friend. Even when Eilian had been gravely ill with various tropical diseases, he had never lost his underlying fire, but for the first time in years, the young adventurer and writer looked frail and broken. The butler stared at his companion and tentatively reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder, faltering as he did not know what to do without overstepping his bounds.
    “I’m so sorry,” Patrick whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
    Through quavering breaths, he cried, “It wasn’t you. I want to go back to sleep and have all of this be a nightmare. I’m only six-and-twenty. I could die or be maimed for life. How will I write or travel or do anything anymore? My life is ruined, ruined, and it wasn’t even my fault.”
    “Sir, you were a victim of chance, but you’ll make it. I know you will. You’ll learn how to do everything, just in a different way. If you still can’t write, you can dictate everything to me, and I’ll write it down,” the butler answered with a smile, hoping one would appear on his master’s face.
    He sniffed and sighed, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. “Thank you, Patrick, you’re a good friend.”
    “This is the last thing I ever wanted to have happen to you, but somehow I know you’ll be all right in the end.”
    Patrick reached into the pocket of his jacket and carefully wiped Eilian’s eyes and bruised cheeks with his handkerchief. Eilian slowly inhaled and exhaled, allowing his body to relax and his mind to quiet. As his muddled thoughts began to clear, his stomach growled, breaking the silence and his concentration.
    “Why don’t I make you one of your favorite dishes? It’ll take a while, so you can take a nap and rest until dinner.”
    As much as he didn’t want to admit it, crying and yelling had exhausted him. By the clock above the hearth, he could tell he had only been awake for a little over two and a half hours, yet he was already ready for a nap. Eilian inched lower in bed as the butler covered him with blankets until he was safely cocooned within their gentle pressure and warmth.
    Patrick once again stood on the threshold, watching his battered friend sleep, but for the first time in nearly a week, he knew he could leave the room and not worry he would never wake again.

 
     
Chapter Three:
     
    Doctors and Dragon Breath
     
     
    Patrick Sinclair gingerly carried the silver tray of food up the polished stairs, careful not to spill anything onto the new rugs that had been acquired on their trip and laid out before the airship had crossed the English Channel. He lightly rapped on the bedroom door before opening it. Within the folds of the massive mahogany bed, Eilian stirred slightly as the floorboards creaked under the butler’s familiar, light tread. He blinked away the crust from his eyes and slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. The short rest had chased away the lethargy and seemed to dull the ache in his temples. As Lord Sorrell stretched out his back and shoulders just as he did every time he awoke, Patrick’s eyes widened and trailed up to his