Chapter 11
“Watch out!” Jonathan shouted.
Everything happened in a split second. She didn’t have a chance.
The black carriage came out of nowhere and bore down on Elizabeth.
The horse reared, his powerful hooves beating the air.
Elizabeth screamed and fell to the street as the driver fought to bring the carriage to a halt.
Jonathan’s heart caught in his throat as he helplessly watched the whole thing. How many times had he wished she were dead? But he knew deep down he’d never meant any of those thoughts.
He sprang forward. Though he ran as fast as he could, it seemed like forever before he reached her. He grabbed the horse’s bridle and backed the vehicle away from Elizabeth, then turned and looked at her.
She lay very still, her head thrown to the side, her black hair spilling across the cobblestones. Her gown was torn and dirt-smeared.
“I didn’t see her,” the heavyset coachman rasped while he scrambled down from the carriage. He grabbed the horse’s bridle to make sure the animal didn’t move forward and injure the lady further. “Is she dead?”
“You had better hope not,” Jonathan muttered as he knelt beside her.
Elizabeth looked so small and frail. Carefully, he lifted her head, and immediately felt something sticky and warm.
He looked at his fingers to see that they were covered in blood.
He felt for a pulse, and let out a deep breath when he found one.
“She’s alive.” Scooping her up into his arms, Jonathan looked toward the driver. “She darted out in front of you. It wasn’t your fault,” he said grimly. “You may leave.”
“I hope the little lady will recover,” the driver said, politely touching his cap.
“I do, too,” Jonathan said as he carried her back to his house where Jeffrey stood in the doorway, his face as white as his hair, his eyes wide with terror, and his mouth dropped open. Jeffrey did manage to step aside as Jonathan entered with Elizabeth.
“Send someone for the physician posthaste!” Jonathan ordered as he went by the butler.
“R-right away, sir.”
Jonathan climbed the stairs, taking Elizabeth straight to his room. Kicking open the door, he entered and, in four strides, laid Elizabeth on the bed.
Her face was as pale as the linen sheets and the blood stained the pillowcase a bright scarlet.
“Elizabeth,” Jonathan whispered, but didn’t receive a response. He took her chin in his hand and gently moved her head back and forth. “Elizabeth.” She still remained deathly quiet
Her black lashes rested on her creamy skin. Though her skin was still soft as a child’s, there was a maturity about her that only heightened her beauty.
Jonathan glanced at her hand and noticed it was without a ring. Had she not married? He could only wonder. Then he remembered that one of his duties was to find her a husband. He was to be matchmaker to someone he’d once loved. He must have been bloody stupid to agree to help Adam.
It was a good thing he didn’t love her or it would make his job just that much harder. He traced the side of her face. Finding Elizabeth a husband would be easy.
“Jonathan,” Dr. Toogood said as he crossed to the bed.
Jonathan jerked his hand away from Elizabeth as if he’d been caught with indecent thoughts. He felt the heat in his cheeks.
When he didn’t answer, the doctor continued, “It is good you’ve made it home.
” Placing his bag on the Queen Anne table beside the bed, Dr. Toogood shook his head slightly as he glanced at Elizabeth.
“I thought I was being summoned for your father.” He put his hand on her forehead. “What happened? Who is she?”
“Lady Elizabeth,” Jonathan supplied, then added, “the Duke of St Ives’s sister. She stepped into the path of a carriage not more than ten minutes ago. I found a gash on the back of her head, but I’m not sure about any other injuries.”
“I see.” Toogood lifted her wrist and felt for a pulse. “Has she regained consciousness?” he asked, his brows drawn together in a frown.
“No.”
“Let’s take a look.” First the doctor pulled up her eyelids and peered into her eyes. Then, carefully turning her head, he frowned. “This will take a bit of work and a couple of stitches. I need hot water and some bandages.”
When Jonathan failed to move, Dr. Toogood turned and stared at him. “Quickly, man, I must stop the bleeding. I cannot do everything myself.”
Jonathan straightened and glared at the doctor’s impertinence. Then he realized there were no servants about and someone had to do something. He strode across the room and out into the hallway, where a cluster of servants had gathered just outside the door. They all jumped when he approached.
“Mary,” Jonathan addressed the upstairs maid, “go get bandages and water for Doctor Toogood, and don’t waste any time. Also, please send Mrs. Roby up here immediately.”
Once his father’s housekeeper came into the room, Jonathan told Mrs. Roby what the doctor needed. “I’m going to see my father. You can fetch me right away should I be needed.”
Jonathan realized the marquess would have heard his voice by now and would wonder what the commotion was and why Jonathan hadn’t come straight to his room.
Jonathan pressed his lips together as he made his way to his father’s room, feeling much like he did when he was a child. He would sit on the big bed and talk to his father as he prepared to go to his club. My, how time changed things. He just couldn’t picture his father as a helpless invalid.
“Father,” Jonathan said, fighting to keep the worry from his voice as he entered and drew near to his father’s bed.
“My boy! Is that you?” Lord Middlesex shoved himself up on his elbows. “This has truly been a day for happenings. Place some pillows behind me. I want to see you.”
Jonathan complied, then stood back and gazed at his father. He had aged. His hair was thin and his eyes dull.
“I thought never to see you again.” Lord Middlesex’s voice came as a choked whisper.
“Rubbish,” Jonathan said and leaned down to embrace him. “You knew I would be here sooner or later. I was at sea, and it took a while for the message to reach me.”
“At sea?” The marquess quickly regained his composure and his brows shot up. “You, my boy? I didn’t believe it the first time I heard the story— still don’t.”
Jonathan chuckled. “I know it sounds farfetched, but it was something I had to do. Believe it or not, I grew to enjoy the adventure.” He propped his hip on the bed. “But I’m home now.”
“I could hear that just a moment ago,” his father said. “I’m not deaf yet. What was the ruckus in the hallway?”
“Elizabeth Trent was struck by a carriage, and we’ve summoned the doctor.”
“Elizabeth?” The marquess frowned. “She was just here visiting me. You go tell Toogood he better take damned good care of her. That girl is a ray of sunshine.” He pushed on Jonathan’s arm. “Now, go do as I say. We’ll catch up later.”
Jonathan smiled at the gusto in his father’s voice. There was still some life left in him after all. It just had been hidden for too long. Perhaps his father had only needed a reason to come out of hiding.
He stood staring at his father as he drifted off to sleep; evidently the doctor had given him some medicine to make him sleep. When he was sure his father slept, Jonathan slipped from the room.
Returning to his room, he saw the doctor straighten and rub his back. Jonathan stepped inside. “How is she?”
“That was a nasty bump and took several stitches,” the doctor said, straightening his equipment “My concern now is that she hasn’t awakened.
I’ve done all I can. However, someone needs to stay with her in case she has a seizure.
We never know what will happen with such injuries, but she’s young and strong and, God willing, she’ll be fine. ”
Jonathan felt cold inside. Had it been his fault that she’d darted into the horse’s path?
If she hadn’t been so preoccupied, she’d have stopped and looked instead of trying to escape.
He had to say something, but his throat was tight.
He swallowed and finally managed to say, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
Dr. Toogood chuckled. “I’m used to coming to this house on a moment’s notice. Your father isn’t a patient man.” The doctor’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he patted Jonathan on the arm.
Jonathan laughed at the truth. “That I well know.”
“If you don’t mind me saying so, you look like the devil, son. When is the last time you slept?”
Jonathan massaged the back of his neck. “I believe it was two days back. I’ve been traveling and have only just arrived.”
“Then I suggest you leave Mrs. Roby to sit with poor young woman, and you get some rest before you collapse,” Dr. Toogood suggested on his way out. “I don’t want to have to come here again today. Mrs. Roby will be back in a moment.”
When Mrs. Roby returned, Jonathan followed the doctor’s advice. He instructed her to get him if anything should happen, then he proceeded to take a long-needed bath.
In no time he was relaxing in a tub of hot water. He sighed as he laid his head back against the rim. His weary bones seemed to melt into the water; after a while the tension in his shoulders eased, and he began to feel better.
Since he’d returned from sea, nothing had gone as he planned.
At the moment, he felt as if he were caught in a whirlwind and unable to control anything, especially his destiny.
Whatever that might be. Perhaps he was just tired and could think more clearly after he’d rested.
But sleep would have to wait a bit longer, he decided.
He climbed out of the tub and dried off.
After he’d dressed, he went into his father’s study where he quickly scanned the ledgers of their estates.
He knew his father hadn’t been up to snuff and probably hadn’t looked at the books for a while.
When Jonathan closed the last book, he realized he would have to spend a good bit of time straightening everything out. The books were a mess.