Page 106 of The Trouble with Tigers
He gave no response.
Dear God, she’d killed him. She’d killed him and she never told him she loved him.“You’ll make yourself ill, Kitty. You must calm yourself,” Lady Lillian urged.
“My lady, I appreciate your concern.” Kitty executed a sharp pivot. She was well aware she was making a spectacle of herself, crying, pacing outside Zeke’s closed chamber door, wringing her hands till her fingers ached. She didn’t care.
“Perhaps a cup of tea, then?” Lillian asked.
“Tea would be lovely,” Kitty lied.
Lillian seemed grateful for the task. “I’ll see to it myself.”
“Lovely,” Kitty repeated. Dear God, didn’t anyone understand she just needed to know Zeke was all right? That she hadn’t permanently maimed him—or worse.
Certainly the men in the room with Zeke all thought her ridiculous. Oh, they hadn’t said so directly. No, the words they’d used had been perfectly reasonable and rationale. Perfectly polite. What was it Caden had said? Oh, yes.
“Kitty, love, he came to in the buggy on the way up to the manse. It’s the laudanum we gave him that’s kept him knocked him out. He’ll be fine, trust me. No small tap could crack that hard head.”
Small tap indeed. She’d brained him.
She hadn’t argued the point however. Neither had she mentioned she could do without the condescending pats, indulgent smiles, and not-so-subtle speaking glances passing between Caden, Viscount Randall, and even the earl inferring she suffered a fit of the vapors.
She couldn’t blame them entirely. They were looking at things with their man eyes. Whereas her more reliable women’s intuition kept screaming at her something awful was about to happen. The proverbial other shoe was about to drop.
She paused to scrub the heels of her hands over her burning eyes. She wanted to ignore the innate knowing. Really she did. Wanted to dismiss her fears as simply owing to her idiotic love for the man. Unfortunately, in her experience, whenever her inner messenger of doom spoke up, it proved unerring. Like the time Collin left for America. She’d known tragedy would follow.
Collin has come safely home, a tiny voice inside her argued. The thought brought a tremulous smile to her lips. Collin.
Where was he anyway? She’d sent a footman for him a good half hour ago, well before the doctor arrived.
The good doctor. She snorted and resumed her pacing. Summoned from the nearby village, they awaited his arrival the better part of an hour. An eternity as far as Kitty was concerned. And then the stuffy old goat ejected her from Zeke’s chambers. Said he couldn’t do a thorough examination with a female was present.
“What’s all this, puss?” Collin said, sauntering toward her.
She launched herself into his arms. “Collin, oh, Collin, it’s Zeke. I bashed him in the head with a revolver, and now he’s unconscious.”
“You what?” Collin held her slightly away from him to study her, a horrified expression on his face.
She almost laughed. “Not on purpose, silly.”
“That’s a relief. I say, this has been quite a day for you, hasn’t it, poor darling? And I’m afraid there’s more to come.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I knew you’d understand, Collin.”
His brows knit.
“The doctor’s with him now. They kicked me out for decorum sake.” She stamped her booted foot.
Collin’s frown deepened. “Of course you can’t be in the room. Unless…you haven’t already seen the man…eh…that is…”
She cut him off with an impatient tsk. “Of course not, Collin. What kind of person do you take me for?”
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I do apologize, darling. It’s something James said.”
“James? Did you speak with him this afternoon?”
Collin gave his fancy cravat a small tug, as if he’d tied it too tightly. “Indeed we had a lengthy, rather productive conversation. In point of fact, I have some important things to discuss with you, and the sooner the better.” He glanced meaningfully at Zeke’s closed door. “Are all the Thurgoods in with your—in with the patient?”
The hair on the back of Kitty’s neck lifted a fraction. She smoothed a hand over her nape.
