Page 49 of Her Magnificent Mistake
Hawk’s hand closed around the butler’s shoulder and he shook the poor man a bit harshly. “What do ye mean?” he barked, panic tinging his voice. “Bull was in the Glen?” There could be only one reason. “Why?”
Artrip tried to shrug, but merely winced. “He arrived this afternoon, and—I was not here, I am sorry to say—and when he found out you and Lady Marcia were up the Glen, said something about needing to save her and rushed off.”
Oh fook.
Hawk felt the band tightening around his chest once more.
He’d been right. There wasn’t a future for him and Marcia.Save her?
Because as soon as Bull had discovered they were together, he’d tried to protect her from Hawk. Because he didn’t trust Hawk? He suspected Hawk of hurting her?
And could hurt her again.
Fook. Hawk’s gaze dropped in defeat.
“Where was he?” Marcia asked.
“Beneath the cliffs.” The butler took a deep breath and reached up to smooth down his ungovernable hair. “Perhaps a rock fell from one of the overhangs above? I found him with his hat dented, unconscious and bleeding, and now he does not remember anything.”
Just like that, Marcia’s breathwhooshedout of her as her shoulders slumped. “Amnesia? Oh, thank fook.”
Jerking in surprise, Hawk turned an astonished gaze her way. It wasn’t the curse, so much as the complete calm that had settled on her the moment she had heard that her brother was gravely injured.
Marcia blinked, then schooled her face into worry and blinked at Artrip. “I mean, he cannot recallanything? How concerning.”
Except shehadn’tbeen concerned. “Marcia…” When she turned innocent eyes to him, Hawk studied her with a frown…and gasped in realization.She didn’t believe Bull was really hurt? That’s why she’d relaxed. “What is it?”
“You heard Artrip.” She nodded toward the house. “My brother was hit on the head and now has amnesia. Smath-Smaythe-Smoth is sitting with him. I should go.”
“Smythe-Smith-Smythe, I think you will find, my lady,” the butler corrected, some of his usual formality returning.
“Oh, yes, I…I must be thinking of my other maid.” But Marcia’s smile looked a little sickly, and the curtsey she offered both of them—since when didMarciacurtsy?—seemed awkward and rushed. Without even agoodbye, she rushed toward the house.
The two men watched her go.
“How disturbing,” murmured Artrip.
“Indeed.” Hawk crossed his arms in front of his chest. “She seemed relieved he had amnesia.”
“I meant, my lord,” the butler announced stiffly, turning to him, “it is disturbing your friend was hurt at all.”
“What? Och, aye, of course it’s disturbing.” He should go to Bull, visit him. Tell him Marcia was safe. But… “Bull rushed off tosaveMarcia when he discovered she was alone with me? That’s what ye said?”
He doesnae trust ye. Ye hurt her once before.
“I was not here, my lord, but that is what McMackinacker the footman told me, and although he is a lad with some gambling debt and perhaps a reason to wish a gentleman ill, I have no reason to doubt him on this. Now, if you will please excuse me, I will send him to discover why the doctor is not here yet.”
The butler bowed stiffly, then turned to march toward the house. He seemed much calmer, more in control now, than he’dbeen when Hawk and Marcia had arrived. Clearly his master’s presence had soothed the poor fellow.
Hawk should have been focused on his best friend’s injury. He should offer to ride after the doctor himself. He should comfort Marcia, or at least consider why she looked so relieved that her brother had a traumatic brain injury.
But instead, frowning after his family’s oldest retainer, Hawk could only wonder one thing:whyArtrip had been at Pook’s Glen to discover Bull’s injury in the first place.
“Bull, what the hell?” Marcia blurted out as she brushed past a nervous Allison waiting outside and, ignoring her, burst into the guest room where her brother had been placed.
In the increasingly anxious moments leading up to her actuallyfindingthe bloody place in this maze, her pace had increased until she was practically running down Tostinham’s corridors. So yes, shedid“burst” into the room. It was a surprise in truth that the door was still upon its hinges.
But then she froze, breathing heavily, her hand still on the latch, when her brain finally caught up with her eyeballs.
