Page 23 of The Marquis' Game of Seduction
“What is it?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the girl,” he said. After a pause, he continued. “Rose. The governess. She—she left the house. And there was a terrible accident.”
Judith wasn’t the sort to hum and haw, to wait around for things to happen to her. Rather, she sprung out of the little room, grabbed a candle, and darted toward the steps. But before she could run down, Colin grabbed her shoulder and said, “No. She’s in my bedroom.”
Judith gave him an ominous, big-eyed look that Colin found difficult to translate. But without stating her thoughts, she ripped around and scuttled toward his bedroom. When she reached it, she tore toward the mattress and peered down at the portrait of the young girl, whose color seemed to drain from her with every second. Colin hated to feel it within himself—but he was absolutely petrified, in a way he hadn’t been since his father was terribly ill.
“Is she going to be all right?” Colin demanded.
Judith’s eyes darted back toward his. “I’m not certain, Colin. I haven’t seen this in years.”
Colin’s heart fluttered in his chest. “We have to do something.”
“Go get your horse. Find Doctor Miller,” Judith ordered. “Ride as fast as you can, my lord. Every single moment counts.”
Colin took a last look at the beautiful girl, at her little, useless hands that splayed out across the comforter, at the hair that wavered all around her, drying a bit after the devastating drenching.
“I don’t understand why she went outside…” he muttered. “Why would she go to the tower? Didn’t you tell her…”
“I told her, my lord,” Judith returned. “And I’m telling you now. If you don’t hurry, we might lose her.”
Judith leaped to the side and busied herself with untying her boots. Colin knew that Rose needed to be completely stripped of her wet clothing, for the good of her health. He turned his eyes toward the hallway and then marched out.
He felt that a more sensible man might pause at his closet, draw out a warmer set of clothing. But he was already drenched, and he was about to press into the rain once more. Within just a few seconds, he’d broken out into a run and busted out the front door. He found the door to the stables wide open, with the stable boy hovering in the doorway, his eyes toward the black clouds above.
“Don’t just stand there!” Colin growled at the boy. “Can’t you see I’m in a hurry?”
There it was again: his bite. But Colin couldn’t care. Perhaps he would apologise later, if he remembered. But just now, the stable boy hopped back toward the beautiful black beast, dropped a saddle on his luxurious coat, and then dragged him into the moonlight. Colin drew his leg over the horse’s back, wrapped the reins around his fingers, and shot his heels into the side of the horse. Within the minute, he was leaned forward, his eyes squinted through the rain and his horse racing madly toward the doctor’s house.
Doctor Miller was the resident doctor on the outskirts of London, where the Marquees of Kensington reigned. He’d been the doctor who’d overseen the sickness and subsequent death of his father—which made Colin a bit apprehensive about him. But in those parts, there were few options, and time was of the essence. When he reached the man’s humble mansion—a house, more like, Colin ripped off his horse, hopped toward the door, and nearly tore the house down with his knocking.
Doctors were accustomed to being awakened in the middle of the night due to their neighbors’ ailments. Colin himself had performed this very action with Doctor Miller previously, notably a few times with his father. But now, as he knocked hard and fast, he was overcome with the memory of those nights—similarly dark, sometimes rainy. Always, his heart had dropped somewhere in his belly and he ached for understanding.
Now, Doctor Miller opened the door and popped into the crack. He rubbed at his eye and said, “My lord, I didn’t expect I’d see you again so soon. I’ll grab my bag and my horse and I’ll meet you out front.”
This was the beauty of Doctor Miller. He didn’t tend to ask questions until after they’d arrived at the person of interest. He sensed the anxiety of time. Within five minutes, a fully-dressed Doctor Miller wearing a black coat appeared on horseback. Colin shot his horse back out onto the road, and he heard Doctor Miller’s horse clopping not far behind him.
The ride was swift. When he thought about it later, Colin wasn’t entirely sure where he put his mind during the ride back, because he felt very much like he didn’t exist right there on horseback—that he was already miles ahead, peering over the limp frame of that beautiful girl and praying, praying, that she might wake up.
Once at the mansion, Doctor Miller and Colin dropped their horses at the stable. Doctor Miller hustled behind Colin, and they ambled into the front door.
“In my bedroom. The same bedroom my father…” Colin began.
Doctor Miller nodded and shot up the staircase. Colin dropped his drenched coat on the staircase railing and ran up after him. When they reached the bedroom, they found Judith had completely undressed the girl and re-dressed her again in a warm, bright-white nightgown (assuredly something that belonged to Judith).
If it was even possible, Rose seemed even more angelic, her skin almost glowing tenderly with how chilly she was. She was tucked beneath the comforter, and Judith had added still more blankets. It seemed that a tiny trickle of blood had oozed out from the top of her head, and Judith busied herself with wiping it away. She cast a worried expression toward the doctor.
“What happened?” Doctor Miller said. He splayed open his bag, yet kept his eyes on Judith.
“A tree branch fell and hit her on the head. I haven’t seen her conscious in quite some time,” Colin said.
Doctor Miller nodded. His hand reached for her wrist to check her pulse. He furrowed his brows. Colin dropped to the other side of the bed and stood a bit too close to Judith, like she would protect him from whatever wretched news they were about to learn.
It didn’t take long before Doctor Miller came back with a verdict.
“The girl is unconscious,” he began. “But her pulse is stable, and it seems she just really needs some rest. The branch really conked her out. But I think that once the bleeding fully stops, she’ll begin to mend fully.”
Colin swallowed. “Is there something we should do? Something to make sure she’s… all right? That she’ll wake up and…”
