Chapter Seventeen
“Dear God!” Royce read the short missive, done in his brother’s rushed handwriting, again to make certain he’d seen it correctly the first time.
Come at once to Inspector Storme’s residence. Isobel has been in an accident. She’s unconscious and bleeding from the head. Uncertain of prognosis.
“What is it?” Jane’s tone practically demanded that he tell her everything as she snatched the note from his lax fingers.
“I have to go.” It had been hell being away from Isobel or anywhere that reminded him of her, so he’d kept close to the house. His sister and Finn had come over for a few of those days to help refresh the furnishings and décor. Thank goodness she was here now because his chest was so tight, he couldn’t breathe. “I have to go,” he repeated, telling his feet to move, but they remained as if stuck to the floor.
“Of course you should.” She prodded his shoulder. The note fluttered unheeded to the floor. “The woman you love is in peril and you’re a first-rate physician.” Again, she shoved at his shoulder.
Royce stared at her with a frown. “I don’t love her. She’s a… Well, she and I were… That is to say we aren’t—”
“Stop.” Jane took his hand and pulled him from the drawing room. A pleased grin curved her lips. “You’re tip over tail for the woman, and if you’d stop being so stubborn or giving yourself a hundred excuses of why you can’t be together, you could see that.”
“No, that’s not true.” He shook his head and yanked his hand from hers. “There’s a certain level of respect and concern related to being an earl and I—”
“Don’t be a bigger nodcock than you can help.”
Icy fingers of fear played his spine. “How did you figure it out? We’d kept our relationship secret.”
“You might be my oldest brother, but you’re not as sophisticated as you wish to believe.” She prodded him toward the stairs in the direction of the entry hall. “Finn was the first to suspect it. He told me, and then I saw the two of you together at the duke’s summer ball before she stormed from the ballroom. There was much magic between you.”
His hand shook as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Magic fades in the face of reality.” He’d let Isobel go a week ago. Had told himself a thousand times he was better off without her and her habit of chasing scandal. Had nearly convinced himself that he didn’t need her in his life… and now this.
“And you’re still showing me you haven’t learned anything from her.” Jane shook her head. Affection and exasperation warred for dominance in her eyes. With one hand on Royce’s arm, moving him along the corridor, she yelled for her husband. “Finn! We have to leave immediately. It’s an emergency with your cousin!”
“What happened?” Finn rolled his Bath chair out of the library. A book rested in his lap.
“I don’t know.” Royce shrugged. He moved past the butler and out the door without a thought to hat or gloves. “Trey sent ’round a hastily scrawled note. I’m going over to William’s house.” Then he stopped. “I need my doctor bag.”
Jane snorted. “And also the carriage.” She glanced at the butler. “Please have the open carriage brought out, and a footman to assist with the major.”
“Of course, Lady Jane.”
Urgency smacked into worry as Royce returned up the corridor. He looked at Finn, who met his gaze with equal concern. “Oh, God. What if she’s—”
Finn held up a hand. “None of that until we assess the situation, but time is of the essence.”
*
Every thrum ofthe blood through Royce’s veins echoed with Isobel’s name. As soon as his carriage arrived at her home, he vaulted from the vehicle before it had come to a complete stop. Bag in hand, he jumped over the gate, rushed up the short walkway, and then let himself into the house without knocking or waiting on the butler to admit him.
“Where is Miss Storme?” he barked while the affronted servant trailed after him.
“In her bedchamber. However, Lord Hadleigh and Inspector Storme wish to see you in the drawing room before that,” the butler informed him as Royce took the stairs two treads at a time.
Both men pelted out of said room as soon as Royce gained the landing, followed by Trey. “Thank you for arriving so quickly,” the earl said as he approached the staircase.
Royce paused. As much as he wished to go to Isobel’s bedside, he did need to know how the accident had happened. “Tell me all that you know so I can make a proper assessment.”
“I was there.” Trey pushed him way between the two Storme men. Worry creased his brow, but it was the shadows in his eyes that sent foreboding deep into his gut. “In Hyde Park. Miss Storme was out riding. Racing, really. Tried to best a Lord Alder through the park and on Inspector Storme’s untried Arabian.”
“What the devil was she doing racing horses?” He glanced up the staircase as if he could see her from his location.
“Honestly, I couldn’t begin to tell you.” The inspector’s dark brown hair stood on edge as if he’d shoved his hands through it multiple times. “According to your brother, there was a rumor of a wager between Isobel and this lord. And now this scandalbroth is brewing…”
Royce held up a hand. “That can wait. I need to know about her injuries.” He glanced at his brother. “Explain. I assume you were instrumental in bringing her here?”