Page 106 of Deceiving an Earl
She glimpsed a chair leg and beyond that the table leg. If she could just get under the table he wouldn’t be able to kick her. Slowly she uncurled herself and reached forward, grasping the table leg. Thank God Arthur had believed in purchasing quality furniture. It had taken four men to move this table. She dragged her aching body a few inches forward, then a few more.
She was kicked in the stomach again and had to stop because the breath rushed out of her. For a moment she thought she was going to pass out because she couldn’t breathe, but eventually her lungs loosened their hold and she pulled in a breath. With the breath came courage and determination, and she pulled harder. She was nearly halfway under the table when she felt William grab her ankles and yank her out. She wanted to cry in frustration, but instead she reached for the table leg again.
William stepped on her hand, and she heard bones crunch. She screamed as fire raced up her arm and blurred her vision.
The last thing she saw was his foot heading toward her face.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Frantic pounding on the front door had Oliver emerging from his study to see what all the commotion was about as a footman hurried to the door and opened it.
Philip tumbled in, red-faced and gasping for air.
“What the hell.” Oliver grabbed the boy by the shoulders before he fell over. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, drawing in deep breaths.
“Mother…”
“What’s happened? Did you run all the way here?” Oliver asked.
Philip nodded and pushed himself up. “Mother. Needs. Help.”
“What happened?” Oliver and the footman shared a worried look. He could barely make out what Philip was saying.
“Is something wrong with Ellen?” he asked.
Philip nodded. “William.” Another gasp. “Come.”
A sick, cold feeling swept through Oliver, and he barked orders to ready his horse. Ellen didn’t live too far away but it would still be faster to ready the horse and ride over there. He would throw Philip on the back with him.
The horse was ready in minutes and they were racing down the street to the horror and intrigue of pedestrians out for an evening stroll.
Oliver’s mind raced with all possibilities. What had William done to her? What would cause Philip to run all this way to find Oliver and beg for help?
Oliver pulled the horse up sharp at Ellen’s door and they both jumped off. The door was already open, her butler waving them in frantically.
“He told us to leave her,” he said as Oliver raced through the entryway to the back of the house. “But we couldn’t do that. We’ve locked all the doors so he can’t get back in. The servants are terrified.” They stopped in front of the closed door to the dining room. The butler hesitated and looked at Oliver gravely. “It’s bad.”
He opened the door and at first Oliver didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The room appeared empty. Then he saw a shattered plate and food congealing on the wallpaper. A chair had been tipped over, and he heard a moan from the other side of the table.
He stepped around it and what he saw nearly brought him to his knees. Beside him, Philip gasped and made a strangled sound.
“Good God.” Oliver hurried over and dropped to his knees, spreading his arms wide, not knowing where to touch. So much blood.
There was so much blood everywhere. On the carpet, the chair legs, the table leg. Her hair glistened with it, and her face was unrecognizable. He knew it was Ellen because he would recognize her in any situation. But never had he thought to see this.
Her face was so severely battered that her eyes were mere slits. Her lips were bleeding. She had a deep cut on her cheek.
The housekeeper was on the other side of her, trying to clean her up. “I think her fingers are broken,” she said, her voice wavering.
“All of them?” He looked up at her and saw his own horror reflected in her eyes.
“All on one hand. I haven’t been able to roll her over to check the rest. I’m afraid to.”
“I’ve sent for the physician,” the butler said. “We didn’t know if we should move her.”
“No. I don’t know.” Oliver stared down at her, unable to think, barely able to breathe. “Good God. What happened?”
“Needham,” Philip said flatly. “He said he wanted to talk to her, and she made me leave them. I heard a commotion and then she screamed. I ran to get you. I should have…” His voice broke. “I should have stayed to save her.”
