Page 63 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
Once it cleared, Edward couldn’t breathe for a much different reason. The snarling face leering close to his was one he had only seen once, but that singular time had been more than enough.
“Harry Maudley,” he groaned, trying to shove off from the brick wall, but the other man had him pinned by his collar. His shoulder radiated with pain from where the impact had shot through him.
“Lord Thornshire,” the other man sneered. “I have been meaning to speak with you.”
“And I you.” Edward leveled a cool gaze at Harry, not daring to instigate further.
“You are marrying Rebecca,” Harry stated, his lips curling around her name. The lack of formality irked Edward, and he bit back the instinct to correct him out of respect for her. She had denounced their casual ways with one another; it was not for Harry to readopt them. “Yet… Well, some of us learned the hard way what a temptress she is. I was taken by her once, too, so it is only right that I warn you.”
“A temptress?” Edward echoed, disbelieving.
“A liar, too,” Harry spat. “A woman who promises a man the world, only to let him down the moment another man gives her the slightest bit of attention.”
“And how would you know all of this, given you are not invited to any balls?” Edward’s voice turned challenging, defensive in the face of his betrothed’s honor being contested.
“Does that not suggest word is stronger than you clearly want to believe? If a man such as myself who does not even have a title hears of her activities at the balls, then that ought to hint a great deal, no?”
Edward didn’t entertain the threat. With one last attempt at a shove, he broke free from Harry’s grasp. “No,” he spat. “I do not appreciate you cornering me like this, either. I already bested you out of the Bancrofts’ home. If you ever go near her...”
“Oh, I will not,” Harry laughed. “I have had my fun with your future countess.”
The implication was disgraceful, a bitter man reaching for any words he could to throw Edward off his certainty, but Edward believed Rebecca far more over this man. He trusted her to have told him enough. He trusted the desperation with which she had spoken to him regarding the whole issue.
He shoved Harry back, back against the opposite wall of the alley, one hand slammed next to him to prevent him from running. “Nothing will change my mind about marrying Lady Rebecca. I do not trust you, nor like you, and I fear you are only trying to ruin her life. I know well enough that you had a connection with her, but it ended long ago, and it was certainly not improper.” His eyes flickered over Harry’s face, his voice lowering. “Mr. Maudley, I do suggest you drop this crusade against my future wife and Countess of Thornshire, and show her the respect her title garners.”
For a moment, Harry did and said nothing, and Edward released him with a grunt, but as he stepped back, and went to walk away, something hit him in the back of his head, and all he recalled was falling into darkness, pain sweeping through his skull.
Chapter Twenty
Word came in a rushed alert, written on a piece of thick, cream-colored card, but the prettiness did little to sway from the message.
Lord Thornshire has been injured in a robbery. Lady Rebecca, you must make haste to Thornshire House. Rebecca rushed out of the room as soon as she read the message.
Without a second to spare, and hardly remembering to call for her lady’s maid in her panic.
She found Mr. Kingsley and gasped out where she was going, and why, and ordered a carriage to be prepared immediately. Rebecca wound her cloak around her in a wide fan of fabric, and then she was out the door, hurrying, fear clawing up her throat.
Please be well, she thought.Please be well, please be well.
The journey was torturous, and Rebecca couldn’t stop herself from tearing up when she thought about how he may have been injured. Her mind conjured up the worst of scenarios. A broken limb, fractured bones, a serious head injury. She had witnessed men left without the ability to walk from a simple tavern brawl. If he had been hurt with intent…
And bywhom? Rebecca was a mess of jitters, her feet tapping frantically on the carriage floor as she ordered her coachman to go faster. As soon as they pulled up outside Thornshire House, she wasted no time in fleeing the carriage and to the door that was already opening for her.
“This way.” The hurried guidance came from an older woman, a housekeeper, Rebecca assumed, and she was quickly led through the house, up the staircase, and to a room that had the curtains pulled closed.
In the room, Lady Thornshire stood by the window, her face gray with distress, while Lady Elena sat on the edge of the bed, glassy eyes lifting to Rebecca. Guilt flashed across her face before she looked away, but said nothing. Rebecca finally looked towards the earl lying unconscious in his bed, face drawn and pale, and his eyes a deep purple. It was as if somebody had swept paint beneath his eyes. His lips were just as pale as everything else, and there was a tightness to him, as if even in slumber he was in pain.
“What happened?” Rebecca whispered, daring to draw near on his other side.
A maid was wringing out a cloth to dab on Edward’s forehead, but Rebecca had the strange notion to hold out her hand, silently asking for the cloth. With a quick, questioning glance at Lady Thornshire, who nodded, Rebecca dabbed away sweat from his face. She cleaned gently and slowly.
“We do not know for certain,” Lady Thornshire told us. “Constables brought him to us, but said that they could not apprehend the man who had done it, but they had seen somebody take off from the alley where Edward was found.”
“Where?”
“Near Farriers,” Lady Elena said quietly, looking up at Rebecca. Blame curled her lip before she quickly composed it, and Rebecca realized why: Farriers was the tailoring shop Edward had told her he was going to get his wedding suit from. Her heart squeezed painfully. Lady Elena blamed their wedding and so blamed Rebecca for Edward’s injury, but if she truly thought that, she did not make a nasty comment as she had done before.
“Heavens,” Rebecca whispered, more tears slipping down her face. “How badly is he injured?”
