Page 4 of A Lady by Chance

Chapter Two

“Is she dead?” Sally cried.

Gledstone Hall’s youngest maid turned horrified eyes on Lady Chastity Hamilton, who knelt beside her prone sister at the bottom of one of their library’s shelf-ladders beside a small desk. Fallen books formed a scattered crescent around Jessica, who wasn’t moving.

“No, she isn’t dead.” Chastity lifted her fingers from the pulse point on Jessica’s neck.

“Praise be.” Sally wrung her hands.

“Please find the duke. Doctor Belch may be with him in his chambers. If not, send for him immediately.” Fear stabbed at sight of the growing bump visible between the locks of Jessica’s deep auburn hair on her forehead and the eye that had begun to swell. “Now go,” Chastity ordered. “Hurry.”

Sally spun and ran from the room.

Alone, Chastity frowned down at her sister, the most wild-hearted of the Duke of Roxburgh’s four daughters. No one else could have possibly met injury in the vast bookshelf-lined library—unless they chose to thrust a foot or hand into the fire that burned in one of the great marble fireplaces that graced either end of the room. An injury could also be sustained if they jumped through the tall mullioned windows that ran the length of the library’s far wall—something their father had caught Jessica attempting when she was eight. She’d once danced atop the room’s massive centuries-old black-oak table and sprained an ankle when she leapt onto a tartan-upholstered wing chair.

Chastity didn’t like the rapidly rising lump on Jessica’s forehead, and felt certain her left eye was swelling as she watched. An injury that would have her sister resembling a freak show monster in mere hours. She just hoped no bones were broken.

She wished that Sir Stirling James was present. The man her sisters secretly called TheMarriage Maker would have a merry time finding a husband for Jessica if his husband-candidate saw Jessica looking so ill-favored. Not to mention, such clear proof of her wayward comportment.

“Oh, kitten…” Chastity shifted on her knees and, with shaky fingers, she smoothed back Jessica’s hair, the curling mass as unruly as Jessica herself. “What have you done?”

“Aggggh…” A moan answered her, followed by unintelligible words as Jessica twisted her head away from Chastity’s hand.

“Do not move.” Chastity cupped her sister’s cheek. “Doctor Belch will be here soon.”

“Gah!” Jessica’s eyes snapped open. “I will belch if you let him touch me. He is two hundred years old and smells.”

“Shhhh.” Chastity touched Jessica’s lips. “He cannot help his name and he is an excellent physician. He will take care of you. He—”

“I am fine.” Jessica pushed into a sitting position. Chastity grasped her arm, but Jessica pulled free and scrambled to her feet. “See?” She swayed. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

Chastity shot up and grabbed Jessica’s elbow before she could topple onto the desk she’d lurched toward. With great care, Chastity maneuvered her into one of the nearby wing chairs.

“Do. Not. Move.”

“Rubbish.”

“Wait till you see yourself.” Chastity surveyed her face. “Your forehead and your eye are—”

“I might have bumped against the desk.” Jessica lifted a hand to her temple. “Oh!” Her fingers found the now egg-sized lump. “So what if I have a wee swollen head?”

“There is nothing ‘wee’ about it. Your eye is much worse, I fear.”

Jessica touched the offending eye and gasped. “Ouch.”

Chastity threw a glance at the library door as the sound of running footsteps approached. Turning quickly back to Jessica, she leaned close and whispered, “Be kind to Doctor Belch.”

“Of course.” Jessica closed her good eye—the bad one now swollen tight. She bit back a groan, unwilling to reveal how much her head hurt.

How odd that she hadn’t noticed the throbbing pain or her limited sight until Chastity mentioned Doctor Belch’s name. Had she not done so, Jessica was quite sure she’d have been just fine.

She did not have time to ponder such an ill turn of fate before her father and two recently wed sisters burst into the library and came running over to her and Chastity.

Rotund, shiny-pated Doctor Belch came hurrying in their wake with Sally close behind.

And—she should have known—the Marriage Maker himself pulled up the rear. No doubt the man smelled blood.

Hers.