A good question. Sucking in what seemed to be her first proper breath in an hour, Kate emerged and assessed the scene.
Evan remained standing, staring at the broken window. On his brow, blood oozed from a small razor-thin cut. Otherwise, he appeared unharmed.
As for Samuel . . .
Oh no. Her worst fears were realized. He wasn’t physically harmed, but mentally . . . His eyes were dilated. his nostrils flared. He wasn’t there. Just the same as with the melon siege, with one important difference.
This time he was armed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As Kate watched in horror, Samuel tightened his grip on the quarterstaff. He held it in two hands, braced across his chest, parallel to the floor.
An inhuman growl originated somewhere low in his gut, building strength as it clawed its way up through his chest.
He was going to charge Evan. And dazed, unarmed, unwitting Evan wouldn’t have a chance.
“Samuel, no!” Kate dashed to intercept him, gripping the quarterstaff with both hands.
She made eye contact, hoping he’d know her.
It’s me. Come back.
Something flashed in his blue, unfocused gaze—but what it was, she couldn’t tell.
The primal growl building deep in his chest now erupted from his throat. With a hoarse cry he lifted the quarterstaff, swinging both weapon and Kate with violent force, slamming her against the nearest wall.
Several ladies screamed.
Kate couldn’t have screamed if she’d tried. The impact knocked all air from her lungs. For a moment she floated loose in her own body—robbed of sensation, of presence. She didn’t feel any pain—not yet. But she was certain it must be coming. An impact that strong must have broken her somewhere. Her spine, perhaps. A few ribs at the very least.
Then a dizzying rush of air entered her lungs. Her vision sharpened. She could breathe again, freely. The pain still hadn’t arrived.
After a moment’s reflection she understood why. He’d slammed her not against the flat wall, but into a niche. As the quarterstaff was much wider than the recessed alcove, the beams on either side had taken the impact. She was unharmed.
Unharmed, but shaken to her marrow.
If he’d thrown her mere inches to either side, the full force of the quarterstaff would have crashed into her rib cage—wounding her, surely. Killing her, possibly. But even in his darkest, most unthinking moment, Thorne had protected her from himself.
He’d saved her. Now she had to return the favor.
She ignored the room packed with onlookers. She ignored the quarterstaff holding her pinned into the narrow niche. She kept her gaze locked with his. He was far away, and she had to bring him home.
“It’s all right,” she said, speaking in the lowest, most soothing tone she could manage. “Samuel, it’s me. Katie. I’m unharmed, and so are you. You were having a disagreement with Lord Drewe here at Summerfield. But it’s over now. It’s all over. There’s no danger anymore.”
She caught a flicker of awareness in his eyes. He drew a sharp breath.
“Yes,” she encouraged him. “Yes, that’s it. Come back. Back to me. I love you.”
If only she could touch him, it might make all the difference. But the quarterstaff kept them apart.
“Let her go.” Evan appeared at Samuel’s side, pressing a blade to his throat and undoing all Kate’s efforts of the past minute.
“Evan, don’t. Please. You’ll make it worse.”
“Get the hell away from her,” he growled at Thorne.
“You don’t understand, Evan. He didn’t hurt me. He would never hurt me.” She ignored her cousin then and focused on Thorne again, staring deeply into his eyes. “Samuel, you must come back to me. Now. I need you here.”
That did it.
His breathing steadied and recognition smoothed the creases in his brow. His eyes focused—first on her face, then on the quarterstaff and their position against the wall.
“Oh, Jesus,” he breathed. Anguish tweaked his voice. “Katie. What did I do to you?”
“Nothing,” she assured him. “Nothing but remove me from the path of harm. I’m fine.”
“Bollocks,” said Evan. “You could have killed her.”
“Don’t believe him,” Kate said. “I know the truth. You didn’t hurt me at all. You’d never hurt me.”
Bram appeared then, reaching for the quarterstaff. “Stand down, Thorne. The fight’s over.”
Samuel nodded, still clutching the weapon tight. “Yes. It’s all over.”
“Don’t say that,” Kate pleaded, pushing against the staff that kept her pinned. She needed to touch him, to hold him tight. If only she could get her arms around him, she could change his mind.
He seemed to know it, too.
“I can’t risk it,” he whispered, holding her off. “I can’t. I love you too much. I thought I could make myself into the man you need—a husband fit for a lady—but . . .” His face twisted as he swept a tormented gaze down and then up her body. “Look at this. I don’t belong in this world anymore. If I ever did.”