Page 52 of If Not for the Duke

Bernie moaned once more, the sound reassuring that she still lived.

James joined her and took the candleholder, allowing Lena to brush Bernie’s hair from her face. “Bernie.”

Voices sounded in the corridor, one of the deep tones achingly familiar. Relief flooded Lena to know Sterling had arrived.

Bernie rolled to her side and raised a hand to the back of her head. “Oh…” The single quiet word didn’t sound like her in the least.

“Don’t move,” Lena ordered, afraid doing so might worsen her injuries. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“My head,” she muttered, her eyes fluttering open to rest on Lena in confusion. “Lena? What are you doing here?”

“I am wondering the same thing,” Sterling said from directly behind her.

Lena looked up to see Sterling staring down at her, his eyes narrowed, and her heart sank.

*

Panic gripped Sterlingat the sight of Bernie lying on the floor, her face pale. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening, nor had Foster been able to explain the problem.

The fact that Lena was kneeling beside his sister confused him all the more. What on earth was she doing here at this hour?

But what truly concerned him was Bernie’s face, taut with pain.

“What happened?” he asked as he knelt next to Lena. He didn’t care who answered the question. He only wanted an answer.

Bernie hissed as she touched the back of her head where her hair was twisted into its customary chignon.

“Did you fall?” he asked, unable to see much of anything in the light of the single candle flame. He glanced at Foster who dipped his head and rushed toward the wall sconce to light it.

A warm glow filled the room as Bernie lifted onto her elbow, another moan escaping her lips. “No. Someone struck me.”

Sterling jerked his gaze to Lena, shocked when her gaze fell away as if she were somehow guilty. He didn’t believe for a moment that she’d hit his sister. Yet why did she look so uncomfortable?

Foster brought another candleholder closer, allowing Sterling to better see Bernie. Sterling gently touched the area where she’d pressed her fingers and found a lump. A damp lump. She was bleeding.

He muttered an oath then looked into Bernie’s glazed eyes. “Can you sit up?”

“Yes.” She eased to a sitting position with his and Lena’s assistance.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Lena asked. The concern in her voice and expression touched him.

“I-I don’t believe so.” Bernie started to shake her head only to halt with a grimace. “But my head aches terribly.”

“Can we move you to the settee?” Sterling held Bernie’s arm, ready to assist her.

She drew a breath, seeming to consider his question before giving the barest of nods.

Lena’s footman moved to Bernie’s other side and between them, they helped Bernie to her feet then guided her to the settee, where she sank onto the cushions with a grateful sigh.

“Foster, we need some warm water and a cloth to clean Lady Bernice’s injury,” Lena said as she set the candleholder on the nearby table and perched on the edge of a cushion beside Bernie.

Relief flooded Sterling to have her help since he certainly wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Of course, miss.” Foster hurried from the room.

“What happened, Bernie?” Sterling sat on the opposite side of his sister and took her hand in his.

She blinked, looking around the room as if trying to remember. “I came in here to get our notes.” The weakness of her grip concerned him. “I wanted to read through them again. I heard something—or rather, someone—behind me and turned. Then everything went black. That’s all I remember.”

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