his senses. A physician has been sent for, and Willingham and I remain by his side, anxiously awaiting his recovery. I will, of course, continue to keep you apprised of his condition, but I felt that you would wish to learn of this incident as soon as possible, and thought your husband would wish the same.
Yours, etc.
Penvale
Unconscious. The word echoed in Violet’s mind as she stared down at Penvale’s missive. She flipped the paper over, desperately hoping for more information than the scant few sentences that had been provided to her, but there was nothing.
“Violet?” Emily asked, and Violet looked up, startled; for a moment, she had forgotten that she was not alone. “Is everything quite all right?”
“No,” Violet said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. “That is, I don’t quite know. James was thrown from his horse yesterday and knocked unconscious.”
“Good lord!” Diana said, springing up suddenly. With a few quick strides, she crossed to where Violet was standing and snatched the letter from her. Scanning it quickly, she gave an unladylike snort. “Typical of my brother. Just enough information to thoroughly worry you, but nothing that might actually be of use.”
Violet barely heard her. “I must go,” she said, scarcely aware of the words leaving her mouth. “I must go to Brook Vale.”
Brook Vale was a picturesque village in Kent and the seat of the Duke of Dovington, the title that was currently held by James’s father. Although Brook Vale Park was the family seat, James had been bequeathed Audley House, on the opposite side of the village, upon his marriage to Violet. The house itself was of modest size when compared with the country estate of the duke, but Audley House’s true value was in the attached stables, which were spectacular, stocked with a host of steeds of impressive bloodlines, contenders in all the major races each year. James’s not-insubstantial annual income, an inheritance from his mother, was heavily augmented by the sale of those horses, the fees paid by other owners for the right to breed with his stallions, and race winnings.
It was all, on the surface, an entirely advantageous arrangement.
Violet hated those stables’ very existence.
“Now wait, Violet—”
Violet ignored Diana. “I must depart at once. What if James is still unconscious? Or—or—” She couldn’t bear to give voice to her thoughts in that instant—it was utterly impossible to think of her maddening, energetic husband as being anything other than in the best of health. She glanced up at Emily, who was studying her with a compassionate gaze.
“Of course you must go,” Emily said briskly, standing up. She rang for Wooton, who reappeared a moment later.
“Wooton, Lady James must depart at once for Audley House,” Emily announced.
“Indeed, my lady?” Wooton inquired, casting a look in Violet’s direction that in a less well-trained butler would have been characterized as inquisitive.
“Yes,” Violet managed. “It would seem that Lord James has had some sort of riding accident, and I would like to go see him immediately.”
Wooton’s impassive expression was betrayed by a slight furrowing of the brow—tricky to notice in such a heavily wrinkled face—that seemed to indicate concern. “I will have Price prepare a trunk for you immediately, my lady.”
“Thank you, Wooton,” Violet said distractedly, and turned back to Emily and Diana. “If you’ll excuse me, I should like to speak to Price myself, inform her that I only need the barest necessities—”
“Of course,” Emily said calmly, taking two steps forward to seize Violet’s hand. “Dear Violet, do send word as soon as you know more about Lord James’s condition.”
“I’m certain he’s fine,” Diana said, then added with an attempt at her usual humor, “After all, I know I’ve heard you lament his hard head in the past.”
“Thank you,” Violet said, attempting a smile and managing no more than a wobble of the mouth. “I’m certain it’s—well—” For once, words failed her, and she could do no more than bid her friends farewell and make her way to her bedchamber.
Once she arrived there, she found Price, her lady’s maid, in a frenzy of activity, flitting about with various articles of clothing in her hands.
“Only pack for a couple of days, Price,” Violet said upon entering the room. “If Lord James is well, I shall return to London immediately, and if not . . .” She trailed off, then shook her head vehemently, trying not to dwell on the prospect. “If his condition is serious, I will send word for more of my things to be sent along