“Do you want to know, too?” Michael asked his brother-in-law.
Appertan frowned. “What kind of question is that?”
Michael glared at him. “It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to you. She’d fallen into a hole.”
“Why wasn’t she walking her normal route?” Appertan asked irritably.
“She was. That hole wasn’t there yesterday.”
He saw Talbot inhale and Appertan’s eyes widen, even as Doddridge gaped.
“A hole?” Appertan echoed. “She wasn’t limping.”
“The hole was deep enough that she couldn’t escape. I heard her screaming for help.”
Appertan grimaced and ran a hand through his hair before eyeing Michael once again. “My thanks for your gallant rescue. Go take care of yourself before you catch a fever.”
“Shall I escort you, Lord Blackthorne?” Talbot asked.
“I’m fine.” He glanced back at Appertan. “I’ll speak with you soon.”
“I assume you’ll be speaking with my sister first. We can cancel the dinner this evening if she likes.”
Michael was tempted to decide in her stead, saying of course they should cancel it. But there would be so many people who knew her—possible suspects. Yet it wasn’t up to him. “I’ll let you know.”
He went up to his bedroom to change, and then confront his wife.
Chapter 14
Cecilia couldn’t stop shaking, even after submerging herself in a steaming bath. Nell wanted to bundle her into bed for the day with hot compresses, but Cecilia was too impatient for that, dressing in a plain, loose gown, then pacing after Nell brought her a tray of carrot soup, bread, and hot tea.
When she was alone, Cecilia looked crossly at the tray. “I’m not sick.”
But inside, she was sick at heart. She was so used to being in control of every situation, and these—these accidents made her feel like cowering under her covers and never leaving her room. She couldn’t live like that. Uncertainty and fear were making her question everything.
Except ... Lord Blackthorne. He’d rescued her from the hole, confirming her belief in his innocence. Nell confided that he’d been worried through breakfast, whereas Oliver said that surely the storm had delayed her.
As if her own brother didn’t want her found.
Cecilia felt the prick of tears again, put her palms over her eyes, and willed them away. Crying wouldn’t help.
A knock on her door made her straighten, and she tried to compose herself as she called for the person to enter. She wasn’t surprised to see her husband, his gaze focused darkly on her, taking everything in. With her old garments on, and her hair pulled back with a simple bow, she felt unmade, unkempt, which was the most ridiculous thing to think at such a time. But Lord Blackthorne seemed to do that to her.
He closed the door and leaned both hands on his cane as he studied her.
“Do I pass inspection?” she asked wryly.
“You clean up well.”
She almost laughed at that even though she wasn’t amused.
“How do you feel?”
She hesitated. “It hurts to take a deep breath.”
“Your ribs.”
“So the doctor informs me. I have some aches, but he says I was very lucky, and there’s nothing he can do for me except prescribe rest and warm baths for my pain.”
