Page 108 of Deceiving an Earl
“William Needham,” Oliver said, his voice flat.
The physician paused and glanced at Oliver. “Needham the surgeon?”
“Yes.”
The physician’s gaze went to Ellen. “Are you sure?”
“Very,” said Philip in almost the same tone that Oliver had adopted. “I saw him myself.”
“But—”
“It was him,” Oliver said.
The physician shook his head. “You just never know about some people,” he muttered. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check on her, then again tomorrow morning. I truly don’t think she’ll wake up before then, but if she does I’ve left laudanum to help with the pain.” He tipped his head to a brown bottle on the bedside table.
When the doctor left and the housekeeper stopped fidgeting with Ellen’s blanket, there was a suffocating silence that descended on the three of them, punctuated by Ellen’s shallow breathing.
Oliver felt as if the walls were closing in on him, like he couldn’t breathe, and his skin itched all over.
Philip pulled a chair close to the bed and slumped down in it, chin on his chest.
Oliver paced until he thought he would go mad.
“I’ll be back,” he said into the stillness.
Philip’s head jerked up. “You’re leaving?”
“For a little bit. I’ll be back.”
“What if something happens?”
“You heard the doctor. She’ll sleep the rest of the night.”
Philip sat up straight. “But you don’t know that. What if she wakes up?”
Oliver sighed. “Philip, it will be fine. Nothing will happen. I have something I need to do.”
“Something more important than this?” He swept his arm toward the bed. Oliver didn’t look in that direction, because seeing Ellen like that nearly buckled his knees, and he couldn’t spend one more moment in this room without doingsomethingto avenge this brutal beating she’d endured.
It would not go unanswered, and he was afraid if he waited too long Needham would make some move to block him.
“I won’t be gone long. If something happens fetch the physician.”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving us.” Philip’s voice wavered, and Oliver was afraid the boy was going to start crying again.
“Philip, I’m not abandoning you. On my honor, I will return.”
He sidled out the door as Philip glared at him. Ellen did not move. She didn’t even know he was there, let alone that he was gone.
At least that was what he told himself to allay the crushing guilt of leaving her.
…
Oliver felt bad about taking his father’s curricle, but he had every intention of returning it, and he couldn’t very well expect Ellen to ride all the way to Scotland on horseback. In time his father would understand.
It was his mother he feared the most. His marriage to Ellen would get the tongues wagging in London, and his mother hated when the Armbrusters were the topic of conversation. But Oliver was convinced that the gossip would blow over, replaced by something even more salacious the next day or the day after.
Like his father, his mother would forgive him in time.
