Page 52 of Tamed for Her Pleasure

“I will be fine come the morrow—” Even those few words set me off a coughing fit that feels like a knife in the chest.

A hovering servant passes me a cloth. It comes away from my lips soaked with blood.

I can admit to feeling concern.

The door bursts open, and Penelope rushes in. Her eyes go from my face to the bloody cloth in my hand.

Gods, she looks so beautiful. Her jade dress is stunning. I hate the worry that I see on her face.

“Oh, what has happened to you?” she says. “Doctor, what is it? Was it the fight?”

“It was not the fucking f—” My words trigger another violent round of coughing that leaves me shaking and wheezing for breath.

She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Please do not speak, Alfred,” she says, worry lining her face before she turns to the doctor.

The doctor shrugs. “It is possible one of the blows has ruptured something inside that we cannot see.”

“I am not—” The coughing thwarts my attempts to speak. It is very fucking irritating.

A servant passes me a fresh cloth. Gods, I feel like something is ripping my chest out. I will be fine after I have a good night’s sleep. I just need a bit of rest.

Another servant slips through the door. He makes a beeline for the tray of food that was brought to me. It seems an odd time to be worrying about such things. I was fine until… I gesture in the servant’s direction, and mime eating food.

Penelope and the doctor both swing to face the servant who is scurrying for the door.

“Stop!” Penelope’s voice cracks with command.

The man’s eyes dart to her before he bolts for the door.

I frown.

Penelope leaps to block his path, lifts her skirts, and thrusts out one delicate ankle, sending him sprawling upon the floor.

The maid screams and shrinks back, clutching her skirts in fear.

The tray of half-eaten food goes flying. Penelope is on the man, her small fist in his hair and a knee to the center of his back.

I fight to get up, to fucking help, only to be wracked by another coughing fit.

The doctor pushes me back.

“Who are you?” Penelope demands, twisting his head back. “You are not one of my family’s servants.”

“Send for the guards,” Penelope calls. The maid dashes for the door and thrusts it open, only for Dick, Wendle, and Poach to rush in.

“Princess!” Dick says, hastening to grab the man. Poach takes the other arm, and they wrest him to his feet.

“This man is unknown to me,” Penelope says, her eyes shifting to the bed where I am coughing once again, for I cannot bear my mate dealing with a thug while I am too weak to fucking move. “I have never seen this man before and I believe he brought Alfred poisoned food.”

“Neither have I,” Dick says, his eyes narrowing.

“You say the food was poisoned? Only one way to find out,” Poach agrees.

The man shakes his head and begins to thrash.

Gods, have I been poisoned? Is that why I feel so fucking wretched inside?

“Be careful with it,” the doctor cautions. “Do not get any of it on yourselves.”

---