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“Back to London,” the young man supplied, with obvious eagerness to be there.
“Lady Elizabeth fainted the moment we arrived at the stables,” the redhead explained. “Jimmy here had to help her into the carriage.”
“She passed out from the pain is what she did,” the other young lady defended. “You might have done so too if you had as many bruises as she does.”
“I meant no offense,” the redhead apologized.
Sterling was no longer listening to them after hearing the words “pain” and “hurting” used to describe Elizabeth.
He approached her slowly, his touch gentle as he reached out to carefully smooth the swath of hair back from her face. He drew in a hissing breath the moment he revealed the first of the dark bruises on her cheek. That hiss turned to the clenching of his teeth once he could see the full extent of the numerous bruises on her face and throat.
“Who did this?” he demanded hollowly, having a feeling he already knew the answer but needing to have those suspicions confirmed before he killed the wrong man.
“Lady Elizabeth fell down the stairs,” the redhead explained.
“The earl punched her in the face, she lost her balance, andthenshe fell down the stairs,” the brunette corrected indignantly. “After which he calmly went to his bedchamber and left her lying unconscious down in the entrance hall,” she added with obvious disgust for the deed. “None of us knew what had occurred until the morning.”
“When did this happen?” Sterling demanded to know.
“The evening before last,” the brunette supplied.
The same evening Elizabeth and Whitlow had joined him here for dinner.
Sterling thought back to that evening and his concern when Elizabeth had mentioned the earl’s displeasure over the gown she was wearing.
Within minutes of them leaving here and arriving home, it seemed Whitlow had struck Elizabeth hard enough to cause her to fall down the stairs.
It sickened Sterling to now think that he had slept the night through in the knowledge he was to see Elizabeth again the following evening, totally unaware she was lying at the bottom of a staircase, badly injured.
Dear God, he had spentthisevening at Whitlow Grange, and all the time, Elizabeth had been lying upstairs.Notindisposed by her womanly courses, as Whitlow had told him she was, but unable to rise from her bed due to the injuries she had received upon returning home the previous evening.
No. The brunette claimed the order of things—and Sterling had absolutely no reason to doubt her—was that Whitlow had struck her mistress prior to Elizabeth falling. Which meant theearl was totally responsible for what had happened after hitting Elizabeth.
Sterling should have known something was amiss this evening. Damn it, he should havedemandedto see Elizabeth.
And Whitlow would have been perfectly within his rights to refuse that demand.
Sterling was going to kill the bastard.
No, first he was going to make Whitlowsuffer, in the way Elizabeth had suffered these many months, before he granted the older man the sweet release of death.
“Lady Elizabeth made an effort to play with Christopher today”—the brunette gave the sleeping little boy an affectionate glance before sobering—“but I could see how much it pained her when I assisted her into her clothes earlier so we could leave Whitlow Grange, and then helped her down the stairs. Luckily, Jimmy had the carriage waiting, as promised.” She gave him a grateful glance. “Unfortunately, Lady Elizabeth fainted the moment we were all inside.”
“But before she fainted, Lady Elizabeth asked that we bring her here to Bristol Manor.” The redhead sounded puzzled by her mistress’s request.
Sterling, on the other hand, felt a rise of emotions inside him, ones of both gratitude and happiness, at hearing Elizabeth had believed she could safely come to him for help.
He glanced at the groom. “Jimmy, you shall go into town for the doctor. I will carry Lady Elizabeth up the stairs, and you, young ladies…” His gaze turned to what he now realized must be a lady’s maid and a nursemaid. “You will both follow me and help to get your mistress undressed and into bed. Bring the boy with you.” No doubt Elizabeth would wish to ensure her son’s welfare the moment she became conscious.
“I don’t come from around here, so I don’t know where the doctor lives,” Jimmy explained as he stood up, obviously willingto do as he’d been asked, just clueless as to exactly where he needed to go.
“On the opposite side of the road to the church. Next to the vicarage,” Sterling supplied distractedly as he assessed the best way to move Elizabeth so as to cause her the least pain.
It was testament to how deeply unconscious Elizabeth was that she didn’t stir or give so much as a groan as Sterling carefully slid his arms beneath her shoulders and knees before lifting her so that he could cradle her tenderly against his chest.
He was the one to draw in a sharp breath as Elizabeth’s head dropped back, her golden hair cascading loosely over his arm and fully revealing the extent of the bruising to her face and throat.
“Go now,” Sterling instructed the younger man harshly as he continued to stare at Elizabeth’s battered and bruised visage. “Tell him it is urgent he come to Bristol Manor immediately. Do not take no for answer,” he added firmly before striding from the room.
