Page 80 of The Sound of Seduction
The Earl stood near the doorway, his normally controlled demeanor breaking under strain. One gloved hand pressed hard against the doorframe, his other clenched uselessly at his side. “She locked herself in the bathroom!” His voice faltered, his frustration edging toward alarm.
Wendy’s gaze shifted across the gathered group, her sharp senses cataloging every detail. Alfie hovered by the Earl, Bea gripping the edge of his sleeve. And then… Stan.
She’d seen him brave, composed, charming. But this? This was vulnerability. Real fear.
He stood in the corner, near the edge of the room. His hands trembled faintly at his sides; his usually composed stance fragmented. His face was pale, his jaw slack as though he couldn’t reconcile the moment playing out before him. It hit her suddenly—he wasn’t just shocked. He was afraid.
“What happened?” Wendy’s voice cut through the tense room, even and calm, though her heart thundered in her chest. She strode toward Stan, her movements precise, her mind already turning ahead to assessment. “Stan?”
He blinked at her voice, his unfocused eyes snapping to hers. Then, raking both hands through his hair, he let out a shuddering breath. “I—I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low and uneven. “One moment, she was fine. She spoke to me about—about the Lists. She even teased about the smell of the punch. And then, she danced with Langley. Everything seemed…normal. A moment later, she collapsed into his arms. He carried her here, and now…”
His words trailed off, a flicker of helpless frustration crossing his face.
“And now she won’t open the door,” Andre finished grimly, moving to knock firmly against the wood. “Langley, did she lose consciousness when you carried her here?” His voice was steady, probing for detail, though his expression betrayed his growing unease.
Langley nodded toward the door, his hand curving into a fist that rested against the panel. “No,” he said hoarsely. “She came to as I brought her upstairs. Fought me, said no one was to follow her. And then…” He threw a helpless glance toward the door. “She bolted it.”
Andre rapped again with more force. “Lady Langley. Violet,” he called firmly. “It’s Andre. Please, open the door.”
But silence stretched thick and immovable from the other side.
Wendy’s chest tightened, her mind racing through possibilities, discarding and grasping for explanations. Langley’s panic was sharp and rising, and Andre’s hands curled into tight fists against the frame, his steady composure cracking inch by inch. Wendy closed the distance, placing her hand lightly on Andre’s arm.
Wendy stepped forward and rapped her knuckles firmly against the bathroom door. “Lady Violet,” she said, her voice calm but edged with determination. “It’s Nurse Wendy. Please, speak to me. I need to know you’re all right.”
Wendy pressed her ear against the door and heard a rustling of fabric.
Good, she was conscious.
Uncooperative, but alive.
Behind her, the Earl’s ragged breathing cut through the silent room as he dug his fingers into the doorframe. “You are the only ones who can,” he said hoarsely, his gaze fixed on Nick as if the weight of his words couldn’t be borne alone. “I… I thought it would never happen. Years. Years of nothing, and then you helped me and then Violet… she told me… and now…” His voice cracked, and his hands trembled before he slammed a fist against the wall, his restraint snapping. “If something happens to the baby because of this—or to her!” He couldn’t finish, his words swallowed by despair.
Nick placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying the man as Langley’s composure threatened to unravel entirely. Wendy didn’t turn, but her hands curled tightly over the doorknob, the Earl’s grief pressing against the air like an invisible storm. The stillness from behind the door felt unbearable, every second stretching too long and too far for any of them to breathe normally.
She exhaled deliberately, grounding herself as she turned her attention back to the closed door. Whatever had happened to Violet—whatever had led her to lock herself away—Wendy knew one thing for certain.
They didn’t have the luxury of waiting.
She could not let emotion cloud her. Not fear, not love, not the impossible decisions her heart begged her to make about Stan. Not now.
Duty first.
Always.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Wendy stepped forward,her voice cutting through the murmurs like scissors through fabric. “Everybody out,” she said, her words firm but calm. There was no room for hesitation. No room for debate. No time.
A ripple of murmured protests rose, uncertain and scattered. Wendy turned her gaze to Nick. His eyes met hers, steady and understanding. After a moment, he gave a brief nod. He understood. This was not for him—or any man for that matter. Not this.
Wendy’s mind raced ahead, already cataloging what she might find on the other side of that door. She had to act now, before it was too late.
Pippa, Bea, and Thea hovered near the door to the room, their presence delicate and uncertain. They looked so young, so untouched by the harsh realities that Wendy feared could unfold here. She squared her shoulders, turning her attention to them. “Please,” she said softly, her tone less commanding but still leaving no room for debate. “I need all of you to step out.” The three exchanged nervous glances, but Pippa nodded first and gently coaxed the others toward the door. She saw his shoulders settle, just barely. Her voice had reached him, steadied him.
“Stan,” Wendy said firmly before he could say a word. She leveled him with a look, the kind that left no room for arguments. “Can you ensure everyone stays out?”
Stan hesitated, his jaw tightening, but at last, he gave a stiff nod and moved toward the door. The last trace of what hadhappened earlier was evident in the tension of his shoulders. He didn’t like leaving, but even the prince obeyed Nurse Wendy.
