The Formidable Earl (Diamonds in the Rough #6) - Sophie Barnes Page 0,57

simply refused to listen.

Simon’s heart ached as he followed her out onto the front steps. Other guests, some arriving late while others were leaving early, obscured his vision. He glanced around, frantically searching, determined to spot her.

A piercing shriek splintered the still night air, cutting off all other sound. Simon swiveled, his blood already turning to ice.

Chapter Eleven

“Dear God.” Simon raced down the steps, shoving his way past anyone blocking his path until he finally reached her. His lungs were tied in a knot as he fell to his knees. Please be all right. Her eyes closed, her expression eerily calm, she… His stomach pitched at the sight of the blood pooling under her head.

Hands shaking and with his heart lodged squarely in his throat, Simon pressed his fingers to the side of her neck and felt for her pulse. There was a flutter, faint but present, and then a soft moan from between her lips. Something wet trickled down the back of his neck and he realized he must be sweating.

“Fielding.” Huntley’s voice spoke with firm authority from somewhere nearby. “Is she all right?”

“She’s alive,” Simon muttered. Thank Christ for that. He brushed two stray locks away from her forehead with trembling fingers. The action seemed to rouse her. She contorted and shifted as if intending to move. Simon stayed her with a firm hand and told her to remain still.

Huntley crouched next to Simon. “Let’s bring her inside to one of the bedrooms so she can recover.”

“After what just happened?” Simon shook his head. “I’ll not subject her to any more hateful comments or stares.”

“Understood.”

“If you could please have my carriage brought ’round so I can take her home.” He wanted to get her away from the prying eyes that surrounded them. More importantly, he wanted to care for Ida himself without anyone else’s interference.

“Of course,” Huntley said. “I’ll see to it right away.”

Simon gently cupped Ida’s cheek. “It will be all right, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Don’t worry.”

She seemed to murmur something in response, but he couldn’t understand the words.

“The carriage is here,” Huntley said moments later. “Would you like me to pick her up or—”

“I’ll do it,” Simon said.

“Right.” Huntley straightened while Simon gathered Ida in his arms. She clasped the front of his jacket and groaned. Huntley held the carriage door open. “You sure you can handle it?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t easy, getting her into the carriage, but Simon eventually managed to position her on one of the benches. Expelling a labored breath, he climbed back down and faced the duke. “Thank you.”

Huntley nodded. “Give me an update on her recovery, will you?”

“Of course.”

“And Fielding.” Huntley placed a staying hand on Simon’s arm. “Watch your back and hers. One of my footmen says it looked as though she was pushed.”

Standing on the carriage step, Simon instinctively scanned the front steps of Huntley House. His stomach clenched when he spotted Elmwood, the one man he’d not had a chance to speak with. “Question your guests and your servants, would you? Find out if anyone saw who it was.”

“I was already planning on it,” Huntley said.

With another gruff, “Thank you,” Simon climbed inside the conveyance. Lifting Ida a little so he could sit, he positioned her head in his lap and held her body in place with his arm.

“Ow,” she muttered.

“I know, my darling. Just try to relax.”

Whoever the real traitor was, they’d been threatened by her appearance this evening. They’d tried to hurt her, perhaps even kill her.

Gritting his teeth, Simon stared into the surrounding darkness and silently vowed revenge. Whoever had done this would pay. They would not get away with it unscathed.

Everything hurt. Especially her head. It felt as if someone were hammering nails straight into her skull. Opening her eyes to a squint, Ida tried moving into a more comfortable position and instantly groaned.

“You’re awake.”

A warm hand clasped hers, then Simon’s face came into view. The bed dipped under his weight as he perched on the edge.

Ida opened her mouth to speak, only to cough in response to her parched throat. “Water. Please.”

A strong arm slid under her back, raising her just enough for her to drink from the glass being held to her lips. “How do you feel?”

She opened her eyes a bit wider, noted the deep grooves on Simon’s forehead and the dark splotches beneath his eyes. “Broken.”

He eased her back onto her pillow. “I’m not surprised. You’ve had quite the ordeal.”

“What happened?”

“You don’t recall?” His frown deepened with obvious