Page 91 of Educated By the Earl (Second Sons of London 1)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tessa saw heruncle’s carriage finally approach, not understanding why it had taken so long to arrive. She glanced down at Spencer, whose eyes were still closed.

“Help is here, my dearest,” she said, her fingers lightly smoothing his brow.

“Mmm.”

That one sound was the only one he had made since he had last spoken. She had found she couldn’t speak to him. Her throat had been almost swollen shut with emotion, tears silently falling down her cheeks. She silently prayed over and over that he not be taken from her. That God would allow them to be married and grow old together. She desperately needed these prayers answered.

Without Spencer, she couldn’t go on.

The carriage rolled to a halt near her. Two footmen sat with the driver and jumped from their perch as two others who had ridden along the back also climbed down. The door swung open and Uncle Uxbridge appeared, still in his nightclothes, a banyan thrown over them. His hair was askew and worry filled his face.

He came straight toward her and knelt, placing his hand upon her shoulder. Strength from him seemed to flow into her, calming her.

“Abra told us everything,” he said. “I waited for Dr. Presley to arrive so he could come with us and supervise moving Lord Middlefield.”

His words explained the delay though, in truth, it was still very early. No riders had yet appeared in Rotten Row. Tessa hoped they could be gone before anyone did arrive. She wanted no gossip about this event.

Because she wanted Lord Ellington to be taken by surprise.

Dr. Presley appeared and also knelt, taking Spencer’s wrist and frowning. He set Spencer’s hand back down and Tessa took it as the physician lightly poked and prodded.

“The carriage floor has numerous blankets piled upon it, Lady Tessa,” Dr. Presley told her. “Lord Middlefield is a large man and we could not place him prone along the seat.”

The doctor rose and gave the footmen instructions. A large blanket was brought and spread out on the ground next to Spencer. Then the four servants lifted him as he groaned, placing him on the blanket. They took up the four corners and used it as a sling, carrying Spencer to the carriage.

“How is he?” she asked worriedly once her fiancé was out of earshot.

“He has taken a severe beating. If you had not come across him when you did, I doubt he would have lived.”

“But he will live,” she insisted.

Dr. Presley shrugged. “I believe so but I make no promises, my lady. Sometimes there are injuries inside the body which we cannot see. Let us hope Lord Middlefield has none of those.”

“He was having difficulty breathing. I think his ribs must be broken. Or at least some of them.”

“I will know more when I can examine him more thoroughly.”

Uncle Uxbridge helped her to her feet and Tessa instructed one of the footmen to ride Pilgrim back to Spencer’s townhouse. Then she climbed inside the carriage and sat on the floor, once more cradling Spencer’s head in her lap. She placed her hand on his. His fingers moved and she twined hers through his, fighting to hold back the tears. They would do no good and only worry him if he saw them.

The carriage returned to Mayfair and the footmen, as gently as they could, removed the injured Spencer from the carriage and carried him to his bedchamber. Tessa wished they would have taken him to the Uxbridge townhouse where she could minister to him around the clock, but it would only hurt him more if they tried to move him again. Already, he had lost consciousness due to the pain. She wouldn’t put him through anything unnecessary. She stood beside his bed now, her fingers still holding his.

Marsh, his butler, and Mrs. Marsh, the housekeeper, hovered as they awaited instructions from Dr. Presley. Other servants also slipped into the room, horror in their eyes.

A stout man came and said, “I am Rigsby, Lord Middlefield’s valet. Everyone out except for the doctor and Lady Tessa. Wait in the hall, Marsh. And Mrs. Marsh. I will relay what the doctor needs. His lordship needs quiet.”

The gaggle of servants filed from the room and Rigsby closed the door.

Dr. Presley looked to her. “My lady, you must also leave. I must cut his clothes away in order to tend to him.”

Before she could protest, Rigsby intervened. “His lordship loves Lady Tessa with all his heart. He needs her here. She will stay,” he said, his face stern, daring the physician to thwart him.

“This is highly unorthodox,” Dr. Presley protested.

“Lord Middlefield is betrothed to Lady Tessa,” the valet explained. “He was to purchase a special license this morning. If she sees a little more of him than she should, it won’t matter. He will do better with her here. I guarantee it.”

Spencer’s fingers slightly tightened on hers. “Stay,” he croaked.

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