Page 42 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
Chapter 15
Andrew’s face was a picture of horror, his eyes wide with fear, his lips pressed in a tight line, and his skin drained of colour. Emmeline reached out, instinctively laying her hand on his arm.
“We must go inside,” he said, turning away. His voice was cold, his gaze turned away from her where he focused on the stairs ahead.
Emmeline swallowed hard. Pain filled her heart, warring with the knowledge that he was hurt and afraid and he did not mean to be cruel. She followed him. He raced up the stairs and into the house.
“Where is she?” he shouted, his voice frantic as he marched up the stairs in his riding boots and jacket. “Where is Grandma?”
Mr Pearson was standing beside Emmeline in the entranceway, his expression etched with concern.
“She’s in her chamber,” Mr Pearson said quietly to Emmeline. “We have already fetched the physician. He is there with her now.”
“Thank you,” Emmeline said softly. She hurried up the stairs behind Andrew.
He reached the drawing room ahead of her. As she entered, she noticed the cousins, Lord Epworth and Miss Randell, sitting at the tea table. They had clearly been talking there, huddled, but they looked up at once as Andrew walked in. Their expressions had been furtive, and Emmeline frowned, feeling discomforted at the quick exchange of looks between them. Andrew’s gaze scoured them.
“What happened?” he demanded. “What in Perdition’s name has happened?”
Emmeline went to stand beside him, knowing how close he was to tears. She hoped her presence could comfort him—his grandmother was like a parent to him; his pain and fear for her was clear in his tight, angry voice, the sharp motion of his hand gesture.
“Grandma fell,” Lord Epworth said in a serious voice. “She was in the gallery when a board gave way, and she tumbled down the stairs. She was almost unconscious when we found her.”
“What on Earth was she doing in the gallery?” Andrew demanded angrily. “Youknowit’s dangerous. How could...”
“Andrew, you’re distraught,” Miss Randell said gently. “You don’t know what you are saying.” Her voice was a calculated blend of sympathy and control.
“Do not comfort me, Lydia,” Andrew snapped. “Grandma is...is...” He drew a breath. “Has someone sent for the physician?”
“Yes,” Lord Epworth said swiftly.
“Good.” Andrew slumped with relief. He sat down heavily in one of the chintz-covered chairs, resting his head in his hands. Lord Epworth and Miss Randell exchanged glances.
Emmeline drew a breath. “Andrew is tired,” she said swiftly.
“Of course,” Miss Randell soothed.
Emmeline regarded her suspiciously for a moment. Something was not right about Miss Randell and Lord Epworth. She had sensed something the moment she entered the drawing room and saw them talking. She glanced at Andrew. He was sitting hunched over, his head in his hands.
A voice in the doorway made her turn swiftly.
“My lord? The physician is here to speak with you,” Mr Pearson said softly.
Andrew looked up. His face was drawn and tense. “Good,” he whispered. “Show him in at once.”
“Yes, my lord.” Mr Pearson bowed and went out into the hallway.
Emmeline let out a sigh of relief. She glanced at Andrew. He was gazing over at the door and a moment later, a man of middling height with thinning white hair came into the room. He had a thin face and brown eyes, and his hands were wrinkled. He glanced at Lord Epworth respectfully, as if he was the master of the house.
“My lords,” he began somberly. “My ladies. I regret to inform you that Lady Rilendale’s condition is grave. She has lost consciousness.”
“What?” Andrew breathed. Emmeline went to him and rested her hand on his shoulder. She did not think he even noticed her presence. He was staring up at the physician, his eyes wide and round with disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“She is unconscious, my lord,” the physician repeated. “Her pulse is stable, her breathing slow. There is little I can do before she wakes. The blow to her head was quite severe. I have an ointment that can help reduce the swelling, but apart from that...” he trailed off. “There is naught to do before she wakes.”
“I am going to see her,” Andrew declared. He stood up and walked out of the room, ignoring the physician, who held out a hand as if to discourage him.
Emmeline stood where she was, beside the chintz-upholstered seat where Andrew had just been sitting. Lord Epworth was standing over by the window on her left, and she saw the physician’s gaze move to his again.
