Page 32 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
She would likely not be able to wear it again and probably did not care. William’s respect for the woman increased tenfold, as did his admiration for giving the phaeton driver a sound scolding.
It was really too bad that William had not caught everything she had said to the man, but he had heard enough of the heated conversation towards the end to know that she had rendered the phaeton driver speechless and forced the man to leave with his tail tucked between his legs.
William’s eyes were pulled towards the bed when the child made a whimpering sound and opened his big blue eyes.
“He’s awake,” Agnes cried, taking the child’s hand and rubbing it. “You gave us quite the scare, little one. But do not worry, all will be well.”
The boy said nothing, but he looked intently at Agnes as though he were studying her face. There was no fear in his eyes, only interest.
“Please step aside, young lady,” the physician said. “I need to ask the boy a few essential questions. I must know if his mind has been affected.”
Agnes begrudgingly nodded, her reluctance to let go of the child’s hand visible on her face. She stepped back and looked behind her, her eyes widening when she saw the maid.
“Oh, goodness!” she cried. “What is the time, Fanny?”
“I do not know, miss,” the maid replied.
William took out his pocket watch. “It is nearly ten,” he told Agnes.
She groaned, touching two fingers to her temple. “Mrs Mellors will grow worried if I do not make it to breakfast on time, but I cannot leave this child.”
“Why don’t I take you home?” William offered.
“No, thank you, My Lord,” she said, surprising him. “However, I ask that you please get this child home. Perhaps he will give you directions to his home, or you might find someone who knows him to assist you. I would stay, but I do not wish to trouble Mrs Mellors.”
William nodded. “I give you my word that I will see to it that he gets home safely.”
Agnes smiled, its sincerity and brightness taking him by yet another surprise. “Thank you, My Lord. Good day, gentlemen.”
The woman turned away, her maid following quickly behind her. William wanted to rush outside and see how Agnes would get home, but he couldn’t risk her seeing him. He didn’t want her to think that he was already going back on his word about getting the child home.
Dr Ralfe spent another hour examining the child and eventually pronounced him well enough to go home and gave him something to help with the pain. Fortunately, the boy was able to speak and directed William to his home, where a haggard woman came out with tears in her eyes and many questions about his sudden absence.
After a brief explanation about what happened, William pressed some money into her hand, enough to feed her and her family for several months if she were wise. The weeping mother fell to her knees and thanked him, embarrassing William. Needless to say, he could not leave the area soon enough.
William arrived home and freshened up before heading to the library. Only he and his father frequented the room, with his mother occasionally visiting it when she was in the mood to read something. He doubted his brother stepped foot into the library as the younger man did not like reading and would rather play a game of cards or have someone to talk to.
The smell of cigar smoke in the room let him know that his father had sat for some time, likely to get away from his wife for an hour or two. The duchess liked to talk, whereas the duke preferred silence and to be alone in his thoughts.
The older man would probably not talk for days if his wife let him get away with it, but it was impossible to remain quiet when the duchess regularly kept up conversation and sought his advice on nearly everything. Perhaps it was a good thing as too much silence could lead to melancholy and a feeling of loneliness.
After recalling that he had new books in his room, William fetched one and returned to the library to sit in his favourite armchair, but he quickly found that he could not concentrate on the story. His thoughts were still on the day’s events and his feelings about witnessing a different side to Agnes.
She was obviously full of surprises and nothing like the simple women he was accustomed to. Not even Charlotte had shown this amount of character, yet he had been madly in love with her. William could no longer understand what had drawn him to Charlotte.
Perhaps it had been her beauty and her joie de vivre, but beauty was fleeting, and her love of life made her a selfish and greedy woman who had no conscience. Jacob had certainly deserved her, but even he had eventually rejected her.
Now, he was living at home as though he had not wreaked havoc in William’s life several years ago. Others might say William was petty and hard of heart for not letting go of the past and forgiving his brother, but he wanted them to experience the pain of a broken heart before judging him.
Sighing, he set aside the book and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling rather tired. If the day had worn him out, he could only imagine how Agnes felt. William should have sent a note to Mrs Mellors’ residence to enquire if Agnes had made it home safely, but that might have been taken as an interest in the young woman. The last thing William wanted was to give Agnes false hope.
After what felt like only minutes but must have been several hours later, William awoke to a gentle tapping on his shoulder.
“My Lord?” Stevens said, peering into his face. “Are you well?”
William frowned up at the man. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You do not usually sleep in the afternoon, My Lord. It is nearly dinner, you see, and I was worried that perhaps you are unwell.”
