“I was.” Trey nodded. On the floor below, the sound of Jane’s and Finn’s voice carried upward. “Lord Alder was kind enough to render assistance and someone else offered a carriage.” He sighed and rubbed his hand over his pale face. “She hit her head against a tree when the horse bucked her off. From what I could see, there’s bruising on her left side. Additionally, she cast up her accounts at the scene. No doubt due to the head taking a jostling. She lost consciousness shortly after.”
“Cousin Isobel hasn’t awakened since.” The earl cleared his throat. Annoyance flashed over his face. “William told me she has been ill on and off for a good week or so with no definitive cause. And she’s slept quite a bit when she’s not causing havoc.” He shrugged and shared a glance with the inspector. “We all assumed her mother’s death took much out of her.”
Well, buggar.“I assume Fanny is with her now?” The inspector’s wife was the closest thing Isobel had to a confidante outside of himself. Perhaps he could ask for more personal information from her, for exhaustion and suffering from stomach upset were generally signs of other, more troubling and permanent things than mourning or eating unsavory foods.
William nodded. “Yes. Francesca hasn’t left Isobel’s side since she arrived. Has sobbed for the duration.”
At times, too many Stormes were, well, too many Stormes. “It’s not good for your wife to be overwrought in her condition, nor does Isobel need hysterics when she’s trying to heal.” He put a foot on the next stair tread. “Someone fetch my sister for me. She can assist.”
Trey nodded. “I’ll go down and ask her.”
“Thank you.” Then he focused his gaze on the earl. “You’ll wish for me to do a full exam on your cousin? As well as to check for any internal injuries I can assess?” Everything that he was strained to go to her immediately. “And perhaps ascertain the cause of her stomach issues?” Apprehension gripped his chest so tightly he could hardly move. He was always studying medical journals and would always push for greater advancement in the field, as well as technique with examinations for both men and women.
All those times he and Isobel had come together without the use of the protection available to him to prevent pregnancy… There were a few things he could do to perhaps guess at whether or not a woman was with child, but nothing would be absolute until a few months or so had passed.
Dear God, if what I suspect is true, I’m going to have to face a tribunal of angry Stormes.
Hadleigh nodded. He narrowed his eyes. “If you deem it necessary.”
William chimed in. “We trust you.”
By that time, Jane had come upstairs while Finn waited on the lower level. She glanced at Royce. “We’d best get to it straightaway. Time is of the essence, especially with injuries to the head.”
“I know.” He nodded. A certain numbness had fallen over him. Everything was changing, and the temporary level ground he’d found by breaking his connection with Isobel had suddenly shifted quite violently. “I’ll send Mrs. Storme down to you in the drawing room. If you’ll wait there for word of Isobel’s condition?” When the men nodded, he looked at his sister. Though her smile was encouraging, it was small and tight. “I’ll need my instruments sterilized,” he began as they climbed the stairs together. “I’ll also need a clean wash basin and towels.”
“I know, Royce. I do the same every day I’m in the clinic.” She touched his arm. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
Oh, if only he could tell her what he was thinking!
As soon as he stepped into her bedchamber, his heart lurched the second he rested his gaze upon her. She was so pale. Vomit stained the fine lawn of the man’s shirt she’d worn, and despite his position there as a physician, he couldn’t help his attention jogging to her legs clad in male breeches. Yes, obviously she’d been riding, and not in a lady’s sidesaddle. Damn it all to hell! If only he could ring a peal over her head, but she was so still, unconscious, and unmoving. At least Trey had had the presence of mind not to prop her head upon pillows.
He shot a glance to Jane. “Please remove Mrs. Storme.”
“No! Please let me stay!” The woman was near inconsolable as Jane half dragged half pushed the woman from the room. “But she’s my friend and she needs me.”
“She’ll still need you when she wakes.” The soothing sound of Jane’s words drifted to him from the corridor. “Save your own strength, Fanny. Depending on the doctor’s diagnosis, there might be a long recovery period.”
“But—”
“Come. Perhaps you can help by answering a few rather personal questions regarding Isobel…”
It was so refreshing to work with his sister and know that she had things well in hand so that he could do what he needed to do.
However, before he could act like a doctor, he was a former lover first, and right now, the fact that Isobel was lying there as pale and still as death left him frozen and shaking with fear. After placing his bag on the bedside table, Royce paused at her side, staring down at her. “If you were trying again to gain my notice, sweeting, you have it,” he murmured as he brushed at the damp curls plastered to her forehead. Damn, but she needed out of those rain-wet clothes. Blood stained the bedclothes upon which she rested. Gingerly he turned her head and visually inspected the wound. There was a sizable lump on her skull from the force of impact, but perhaps the blood had come from the gash in the skin, buried in her hair, and not something more serious. “How did I ever think I could forget you?” A shaft of pain went through his heart. “I can’t live with myself if you did this because of me.”
Then Jane returned to the room bearing a stack of neatly folded towels and a steaming teapot in the other hand. “Will you be able to do this, Royce?”
“It matters not if I can’t; this is what I will do. For her.” He glanced at his sister. “For the Stormes because I can do nothing less… after everything.”
“That’s what makes you a good doctor.” She shot him a soft smile. “Try not to worry until we know more.”
“Easier said than done.” Especially when the patient wasn’t merely a wounded soldier or a man he was related to by marriage who needed greater understanding than what other, older doctors could give. Screwing his courage to the sticking place, Royce crossed the room and gently closed the door. “Let me wash my hands and we’ll begin.”
Half an hour later, the examination was completed. “At least there is nothing horrifically wrong with her.” He stared at Jane as mild shock rolled over him. His mouth moved but no sound came out. After clearing his throat, he tried again. “But bloody hell.”
His sister snickered as she wiped her hands upon one of the thin towels. “I rather think our findings deserve a healthier oath than that.” Though there was teasing in her voice, shadows of grief and perhaps envy pooled in her eyes. Such an event hadn’t yet happened for her and Finn, and now this had occurred when her own nodcock brother hadn’t even thought it possible even if he was a physician. “And be warned. You are under obligation to tell Andrew and William. To say nothing of Finn. He’s a bit protective of his younger cousin since she’s shown an affinity for writing.”
Oh, dear God.How was he supposed to tackle any of this? However, one thing had been made abundantly clear while he’d conducted the study of Isobel’s wounds and an examination of her stomach and abdomen by touch and feel. There was absolutely no way that he could give up being a doctor or working in his clinic. Too many people needed him and what he did, and he adored helping others who had no place else to turn.