Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“Come on, you damned horse, can’t you go any faster!?” Ian Gilbert said aloud, willing for the enormous charcoal black horse beneath him to increase his speed. He was already riding at a breakneck pace, but the situation he was trapped in was somewhat scandalous.
He knew that he needed to reach the gates of the lavish Balewood estate as soon as possible to escape the undeniable wrath of Lord Balewood.
Even though Balewood’s anger was absolutely justified, Ian had no wish to face the man in what would likely be a violent encounter that might lead to a meeting at dawn.
Well, it is my own fault; after all, I was recklessly stupid.
Ian tried to muster even the tiniest amount of guilt.
His heart rate was accelerated, and he could feel sweat beading on his forehead.
He had just nearly been caught bare arsed in bed with Alice Balewood by her husband, the Viscount.
It had been an awful situation, and he had no choice but to escape the grounds as quickly as possible.
The faint sound of another horse neighing behind him suddenly met his ears, and he turned around to look at who was following him. He could see a man on a white horse in the distance but quickly closing in. He had no doubt that it was Lord Balewood himself.
“God damn it!” Ian cursed loudly. He shouldn’t have underestimated Lord Balewood ability to catch up to him.
Ian’s mind went back to the enchantingly seductive Alice who had assured him that her husband wouldn’t be back from his hunting trip for two more weeks at least. If Ian had had any idea Lord Balewood would show up unannounced, he would have never visited Alice.
He had left her on the bed in all her naked glory, quickly abandoning the dramatic scene that was unfolding before his eyes.
Despite being on the verge of falling from his horse and breaking his neck, Ian couldn’t help but picture Alice’s blonde hair and slender form.
She had effortlessly enticed Ian into her bed.
Her old husband had never been able to satisfy her, she had said, and Ian was more than happy to do the job.
Riding a horse in his dazed, slightly intoxicated state was a bad idea, and the setting sun was making matters worse.
Ian’s own country seat was a considerable distance away, and he needed to reach it before darkness completely engulfed the area.
Though the likelihood seemed almost impossible.
To make matters worse, Alice’s naked form was refusing to leave his muddled head.
He turned around to calculate the distance between him and Lord Balewood. The proximity made the Viscount’s face visible, and Ian could see his furrowed brows and the angry set on his mustached face.
He will reach me in no time if he continues riding at this speed!
The moment he turned back to stare ahead of him, something hit him out of thin air.
A sharp, pinching pain rose from the back of his head, and he felt as if he would faint.
His horse came to a skidding halt as Ian’s head suddenly lurched forward, colliding with a long, thin branch that was hanging low from a sizeable tree, and his entire body jerked with the impact.
Every muscle and nerve in his body was alight with tension as tiny needles penetrated his flesh.
The feeling was exceedingly uncomfortable.
His horse rode forward, and Ian hung fell straight on the ground beneath him.
He wanted to shout as pain reverberated through his entire body, but he was too dazed to make a sound. The last thing he remembered before closing his eyes against the agony was a strange sound of angry bees buzzing above his head. Then everything turned dark.
Ian squinted as the sun filtering inside his bedchamber felt unpleasant. He stayed still, orienting himself, and once his vision had become accustomed to the light, he finally looked around.
The last two weeks were not lost on him since he had constantly drifted in and out of consciousness. He remembered someone had brought him home, and the physician had been called to examine him. The medication and the pain had turned his brain hazy, and he couldn’t recall much of anything else.
The physician had informed his servants that Ian’s brain was unaffected, but his body was still recovering.
Thus, they continually shoved a foul concoction down his throat, keeping him from being able to wake entirely.
However, they had been gradually decreasing the dose, so he could finally feel strength returning to his body.
“Walder?” he shouted; his voice gruff from not being used much in the past fortnight.
Walder, his valet, came running inside the room immediately as if he was waiting just outside the door.
“My Lord, you are fully awake at last!” Walder exclaimed, happiness evident on his face. The middle-aged man had been serving Ian for as long as he could remember and looked genuinely relieved to see that Ian was on the mend.
“I am, but my head still hurts. I remember falling off the horse after running into a branch, but not much else,” Ian stated. He wanted to know the details of the accident and where exactly had he been hurt.
“My Lord, you hit your head when you fell but thank god no bones were broken. The tree you ran into contained a large beehive and you were mercilessly attacked by them. When I found you, you had been stung terribly and looked absolutely awful,” Walder explained dramatically.
Ian rolled his eyes at the horrified expression displayed on Walder’s face.
“How do I look now?” Ian laughed, not wanting to see his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t think about his appearance often, but he didn’t want to be scarred for life.
“Considerably better, My Lord. The swelling has lessened and the wounds on your body have almost healed. There should be little to no scarring,” Walder confirmed, and Ian nodded satisfied.
Another of Ian’s servants entered the bed chamber and looked at him with widened eyes. The surprised look on his face represented how glad he was to finally see his master awake.
“Please go and inform the physician that the Marquess of Ilenshire is awake. He must come at once,” Walder told the servant, who nodded before scurrying off.
Walder served Ian breakfast, and soon after the physician arrived. He lived just a little distance away, and Ian had previously met him on quite a few occasions.
“Mr. Cornell,” Ian greeted as the friendly physician walked inside the room with a smile on his face. The man was about his father’s age, and Ian respected the man greatly.
“Ian, I had a feeling you would be up in a day or two. How do you feel?” Mr. Cornell questioned, sitting on the chair placed beside Ian’s large bed.
“My head aches a bit, but my body feels better. I think I could even walk,” Ian answered honestly.
“Of course you can. I recommend you move about but do not over-exert yourself. You still need to heal fully before you go about your usual routine.” The physician said casually patting Ian on the shoulder. “After all, we cannot see our favorite marquess bedridden much longer.”
Ian laughed and talked about medication with Mr. Cornell for a little while. Once the doctor was gone, a new question came to mind.
“Walder,” he shouted, summoning the valet that from the dressing room.
“Yes, My Lord?” Walder questioned, walking inside briskly.
“How did I get here after my accident?” Ian asked.
“What do you mean?” Walder looked at him with confusion, unable to understand the question.
“I was still inside the Balewood estate when I was injured and Lord Balewood on my heels. How did I get back to Ilenshire Manor?” Ian questioned once again.
“Oh! Lady Balewood was kind enough to send a footman to inform me of your misfortune. Viscount Balewood witnessed your accident but did not offer any assistance. He was um… er, extraordinarily angry with you,” Walder explained a little hesitatingly.
Ian wanted to curse himself. He had embarrassed himself not only in front of the Viscount and Lady Balewood but even his own servants. They probably had quite a good time below stairs chatting about his misdeed.
“Thank you so much, Walder, for rescuing me. Let me get back on my feet, and I promise I will reward you greatly.” Ian smiled, truly thankful to his loyal valet.
“It was my duty, My Lord, and was the least I could have done,” Walder replied with a small bow and turned around to leave.
Ian nodded. “Can you get the study opened? I would like to look at the accounts,” Ian said, getting out of bed.
“My Lord, I know it is not my place to object or comment, but I think you must rest a little longer,” Walder stated, sounding genuinely concerned. He stepped forward unconsciously as Ian took his first steps in a fortnight.
“I am much better now Walder, you need not worry. I can take care of a few things; they have been neglected long enough already,” Ian answered, sounding determined. His voice had gained back its former strength after a hearty cup of tea and he stood without falling down.
“As you wish, My Lord, I’ll attend to it at once.” Walder bowed and hurried out of the room.
Ian took a few steps towards the full-length mirror placed at the side of his room to view his reflection.
To his surprise, he only saw a few bruises and healing cuts here and there.
His brown hair looked longer than usual, and he remembered that he had already been in need of a trim before his accident.
It was now decidedly too long to be fashionable and two weeks’ worth of stubble decorated his face.
He knew he should have bathed and changed into more formal attire, but he did not need to impress anyone.
After all, who was going to see him here?
He was all alone, and no one was coming to visit.
Thus he stepped out of his bedchamber clad in a plain cotton shirt and trousers.
He walked the short distance to the study and found Walder, just as a footman hurried in with a flustered look on his face.
“My Lord, your parents, the Duke and Duchess of Gilendale, have just arrived. They wish to see you immediately,” the servant informed him in a hushed whisper.
Ian’s face was the perfect picture of horror. He had no idea how he would deal with the disaster that had just shown up on his doorstep.