“No!” Isobel shot him a fiery look of temper, warning him not to argue. “He is my husband. There isn’t anything here that I have not already seen before.” Her teeth were clenched to stop them from chattering. At that present time, it was helping her considerably to hold on to her anger. She could collapse into uncontrollable sobs when Dominic’s needs were seen to, and she had seen for herself the full extent of his injuries.
“We don’t know how bad he is, Isobel,” Peter said, staying her hands as they worked on the fastenings of his cuffs.
“It isn’t anything I haven’t already seen before,” Isobel repeated, glaring across Dominic’s unconscious body toward her brother; willing him to understand that she had seen, and experienced, her fair share of bruises and grazes to be able to assess just how bad Dominic’s were. “Now let us get these clothes off him, preferably before he catches a chill on top of his injuries.” She shot her brother a hard look, “Are you going to help me or not?”
The men seemed to know when they were beaten, and silently set to work. Between them, managed to strip Dominic bare and were just tucking the sheets around him when Mrs Holcombe arrived with two maids: bowls and towels at the ready.
“I will do it, thank you Mrs Holcombe,” Isobel said, relieving the housekeeper of the bowl and placing it upon the bedside table. Immediately she began to set to work dampening several small strips of cloth in the bowl. She didn’t see the silent shake of Peter’s head as he looked sternly at Mrs Holcombe. The elder lady wisely studied Isobel’s rigid back before nodding her agreement.
“We’ll be outside if you need us, ma’am,” the elder lady offered, quietly beckoning the two maids to follow her out of the door.
“Dominic would not want you to see him like this Isobel,” Peter declared firmly, easing the sheets down off Dominic’s bruised body leaving them to rest at his waist.
“And why not?” Isobel asked, dabbing at the mixture of mud and blood splattered across Dominic’s flat stomach. “He has seen me worse than this, Peter.”
“I know, my dear, but he is the master of the house,” Edward tried to find another way of getting Isobel out of the room, so they could check on the full extent of Dominic’s injuries for themselves. “Sebastian, Edward and I can deal with him. This is no place for a lady.”
“Oh rubbish!” Isobel scoffed, shooting Edward a hard glare. “Don’t be so pompous. I am his wife; my place is beside my husbands. Right now he needs me, and I am going to be there for him.”
Shaking his head in defeat, Edward knew Dominic would not be happy at what his wife was doing, but was helpless to persuade her to do otherwise. She would be spitting mad at him if he physically picked her up and put her outside the door. Indeed, with the temper she was in at the moment, Edward wasn’t certain if she would just kick the door back down again anyway. Heaving a mental apology to Dominic, he gave in and, somewhat impressed by her Boudica-style determination, began helping Isobel, Peter and Sebastian to make his brother more comfortable.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hours later, Isobel sat in the high backed chair beside the bed watching the steady rise and fall of her husband’s chest as he slept.
The anger was gone, having been replaced with a bone deep weariness that Isobel had only ever encountered living on the streets. Still, despite her tiredness, restful sleep wouldn’t come at all that night, and she was reduced to restless dosing.
She vaguely recalled waking several times during the first few nights in Havistock and finding Dominic seated beside her and now understood just how difficult it must have been for him to be reduced to sitting and waiting because now, she felt so frustrated at being truly helpless.
The doctor had been a few hours earlier and after much deliberation, and a lot of tutting and sighing, had declared that Dominic had suffered several breaks to his ribs, as well as concussion and numerous cuts and bruises. They wouldn’t truly know the extent of any other injuries until Dominic was awake and was able to tell them for himself. Until then, they had to keep him warm and feed him the Laudanum for the pain. The doctor had also left a poultice to apply to his battered flesh to ward off infection but could do little else except promise to return the following day.
The rhythmic tick of the clock resting upon the mantle paused as it chimed two o’clock in the morning. Isobel could hear the faint snores of the footman sitting outside of the bedroom door, ostensibly on-guard. She should go out to the corridor and nudge him awake, but couldn’t find the heart to disturb him; at least someone was getting some sleep, even if it was the guard! The evening had been exhausting and immensely worrying for everyone within the house. For Isobel, it was another of those occasions she could add to the growing list of ‘one of the worst experiences of her life’. If she lived to be one hundred years old, she would never forget the sight of the sodden bundle that had landed upon the hall floor in a bloodied mess. Or the sickening feeling of horror that had descended on them all when they had realised it was Dominic.
“Dominic, my darling?” Isobel softly ran her fingers through the soft strands of her husband’s hair. “Be strong for me,” she whispered. Gently she placed a soft kiss upon the side of his lips that weren’t cut or bruised, relieved at the warmth of the soft breath that wafted across her lips. “I love you.”
Carefully she lowered her brow to rest upon his, willing him to take some of her strength, and all of her love. Guilt assailed her. If it wasn’t for her, Dominic would not have endured such a beating. It was all her fault for accepting his proposal. She knew now that she should have left as soon as she was strong enough, and moved back to Willowbrook Hall in Oxfordshire.
Slowly, she eased back into the winged chair and stared across the room into the darkness. Isobel had no doubt Rupert and his henchmen were behind tonight’s warning. Sebastian had been out and located Dominic’s sword and scabbard, both equally as bloodied as Dominic himself beside the road about half a mile away. Sebastian firmly believed his brother had fought a fierce battle, given the extent of the injuries he had sustained and the mess of his blade. Isobel considered it a miracle that Dominic had managed to get home at all. The fighting must have been brutal.
Inwardly she shuddered, and fought the urge to lose the contents of her stomach.
Rupert had finally taken another step in this particular skirmish. Unfortunately, he had caught Dominic alone, and off-guard, and according to Sebastian, it was only Dominic’s skill and dexterous swordsmanship that had kept him alive. There were signs within the snow of numerous attackers, as well as one or two bodies of the men who hadn’t escaped Dominic’s sword.
Isobel knew that it was her fault that Dominic had met his attackers at all. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have needed to travel to Northampton, nor would he have suffered Rupert’s brutality.
While Dominic had been away, Isobel had completed the task he had set her and written down a documented version of events. It had gone some way to helping her remember things she had otherwise forgotten, in particular, a single document that could bring about Rupert’s downfall.
She awoke some time later with a sore neck, and was immediately aware of being watched. She turned her gaze toward the solid presence of her husband upon the bed, her face lighting with a delighted smile as her gaze locked with his.
“Oh, Dominic!” Isobel launched from her chair, and leaned over him, one hand tenderly stroking his hair away from his brow as her eyes wandered lovingly over his battered face. “Are you in much pain?” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Confusingly she wanted to both smother him with kisses, and scold him for scaring her in such a way.
Dominic winced as he tried to shake his head, only for pain to shoot up the back of his head, leaving a dull throbbing in its wake. “Only a little,” he grumbled, lying through his teeth. Everything within him ached desperately, but he knew from the fear in her eyes that Isobel had more than enough worries to contend with.
“Liar!” Isobel chided with a soft smile. She kn
ew from past experience that the bruises must hurt like the very devil. “I’ll get you some Laudanum.” She rose to move toward the table beside the bed, only for him to place a warm arm across her waist, stopping her.
It even hurt to make that small movement, but he gritted his teeth and did it anyway. He wanted, no needed, to have physical contact with her.
“I’m alright for now.” He didn’t want any more of the horrible stuff that would render him useless. “Sit with me,” he commanded and slowly held out his hand towards her, smiling softly when she instantly slid her hand into his, careful to avoid his cuts.
“How many of them were there?” Isobel asked after several moments of companionable silence. She knew he was on the verge of sleep again, and hated to keep him awake, but needed to know.
“I am not sure,” Dominic said, frowning as he tried to remember. His memory of the snowy night was hazy. “All I can remember was the flash of sparks from the steel hitting steel as we fought. There seemed to be one after another, but I can’t quite remember if it was the same person. I think there were at least three.” Dominic shook his head slowly in frustration.
“Did you get yourself home, or did they ‘deliver’ you?” Isobel wasn’t sure why she asked, but felt compelled to ask.
“I got myself home. I knew I struck two down on the back road from town, but I managed to escape the third. I can vaguely recall someone else standing off in the shadows, but they didn’t engage.”
“Rupert,” Isobel spat, her voice cold. “He always was useless with a sword.”
“I am not sure if it were DeLisle,” Dominic reasoned, trying to recall any details that could help.
“I know there were questions about DeLisle’s behaviour with his wives, but he is a bully of the weaker sex. Debauchery is his favourite pastime,” Isobel said, ignoring Dominic’s look of surprise. She knew it was highly improper for a lady to be discussing such things, but Dominic was her husband, and she was anything but a proper lady. “This is much more something that Rupert’s would order, although he wouldn’t have the guts to get his own hands dirty. He is a bully through and through, but only to people he knows he can beat. He knows he wouldn’t have a chance of winning against you, so obviously got someone to do his dirty work for him.” She eyed the black and blue smudges scattering Dominic’s face. “He is obviously desperate.”
“He won’t get to you,” Dominic promised, his voice as lethal as the look in his eye. “I was beaten, but I am certainly not out.” Although he wasn’t sure if he was able to get out of bed, it would be a cold day in hell before he admitted it outright. Although he had yet to speak to them personally, he had no doubt that his brothers and Peter had ensured that there were enough house staff available to pose a significant threat to anyone trying to get in.
“Where is my sword?” He tried to raise himself onto his elbows, but was unable to stifle the groan as pain lanced upwards from his ribs.
Isobel gently pressed his shoulders back down onto the bed. “Sebastian brought it up earlier.” She nodded towards the bedside table where his sword and scabbard sat in ceremonial glory, highly polished and ready to use. “Edward cleaned it for you, and said he had hidden the dagger where you usually keep it?” Isobel had no idea what he meant but Dominic ignored the query in her raised brows.
“Thank you. The Magistrate needs to be notified. There will be matters to deal with.” As practical as she could be, Dominic hesitated to mention to his wife that the bodies lying in the road would have to be dealt with.
“Peter left to pay him a visit, and check the area,” Isobel reported, ignoring Dominic’s startled glance. “He took several of the men with him. Sebastian and Edward have remained here, and are keeping watch. Everyone is heavily armed, and on guard.” She shuddered at the mental image of the resultant clash should anyone dare to challenge the heavily armed group.
“Good. When are they due back?” Having spent too many years in the army, Dominic was used to being in command and it galled him to have to lie there whilst the others dealt with the situation.
“I am not sure, but the house is locked up tight, and several of the men are on watch. The only people allowed near the house will be the riders upon their return. Peter has said that he will come up to see you when he gets back.” Isobel rose and encouraged him to take a drink from the small tumbler of water. She didn’t miss his quickly hidden wince as he lay back down. “Until then, you must rest,” she chided softly, carefully tucking the covers around him.
“Oh darling, I have missed you so,” Dominic’s voice was husky as he gazed at his wife. He knew from the dark smudges beneath her eyes that she was close to exhaustion. “Come, lie with me,” he ordered gently, sighing with relief when, without question, she carefully eased herself, fully clothed, onto the covers alongside him. “Under the covers if you please,” his tone was chiding.
Propping herself up on her elbow, Isobel shot her husband a chiding look. “You are in no condition for any of that!” She warned sternly as she lay back down, careful to avoid the worst of the bruising. “I am fine thank you,” she said when he tucked the covers over her, a soft sigh of exhaustion escaping her. This was where she was meant to be, beside her husband. Well almost, she reminded herself as she eyed her husband’s battered arm lying atop the pristine white sheet.
“You haven’t been sleeping very well.” Dominic’s comment wasn’t a question. The evidence was there in the dark shadows lurking in her solemn eyes.
“I have been resting sufficiently well, do not worry yourself.” Isobel knew he would only chide her and pester until she told him the truth.
“Have you anything to tell me?” His soft murmur broke the silence several moments later.
Isobel knew instantly what he was asking. “No, I’m sorry.” Her monthly courses had started the day Dominic had left, giving her another reason to cry. She wasn’t certain if she was all that sorry to find herself without child at the present moment in time. Given everything that was happening with Rupert, they had more than enough to consider, but she had been upset anyway.
Within moments of the quiet settling between them, Isobel became aware of the change in his breathing and knew he had once again fallen asleep. Easing her head back against his arm, she moved slowly, careful not to disturbed him, but had to look at his beloved features. Tears trickled slowly from her eyes. Her heart ached as she studied his chiselled jaw, darkened by the growth of stubble, and a rainbow of yellow, blue and purple bruises mixed with small cuts and grazes. Below the cuts, his skin was paler than she could remember it ever having been before; a clear sign of his weakened condition. She gently placed a hand upon his chest, directly above his heart. Even through the bed clothing she could feel the steady reassuring thump. Silence descended over the room as she lay beside him, taking as much reassurance from his half embrace as she could, while she could.
Clearly Dominic was prepared to fight again, should he be challenged, even in his weakened state. He was demanding details of culprits and expecting Peter, Sebastian and Edward to report back, undoubtedly itching to exact retribution. Isobel knew that as soon as he was well enough, he would be heading out with the others to capture the surviving thugs, and bring them to justice. She shuddered to think what would happen should Peter and Dominic catch up with Rupert personally. Both were filled with the urge to seek revenge from the pain and misery the man had caused all of them. They had been challenged, and as experienced soldiers of war, they never backed down from an attack. Indeed, if there were four men who had cornered Dominic on a darkened road, it was a testament to his skill and dexterity with a sword that got him home alive.
Isobel knew Rupert had gone to ground to plan, she also knew that if she told Dominic about the papers, he would insist on taking action, regardless of his injuries. Wisely she remained silent.
Five days later, feeling restored and with bruises fading rapidly to blackish green marks, Dominic paced awkwardly across the length of his study. There was a pile o
f papers on his desk demanding his attention, but he would be damned if he could concentrate on anything other than his wife.
“Confound it!” He snapped as he paced. Luckily, despite the doctor’s prediction, nothing had been broken during his skirmish on the country lane. He had been left with several deep bruises that were still sore and sometimes painful if he didn’t pay them due heed. There were no injuries left that he couldn’t cope with, and if he was honest, hadn’t had before.
“Not had pie for breakfast again?” Sebastian teased from the doorway, closing the door behind him.
“It’s my blasted wife!” Dominic snapped, stalking towards the oak cabinet beside the door and pouring them both a large brandy. “Damned woman is as frustrating as anyone I have ever met.” He bit back a curse as he handed his brother the goblet. Slugging down half of his drink in one swift gulp, he refilled it and resumed his pacing.
“What has she done now?” Sebastian found it entirely amusing that his beautiful sister-in-law could have his elder brother, usually so cool and unflappable, turned inside out with such ease.
“She is up to something, I just know it.” Dominic shot his brother a dire look.
“What do you mean? What has she been doing?” Despite his amusement, Sebastian was curious. Isobel had been ferocious the night Dominic returned; the warrior-woman who had ordered everyone about had stunned everyone, and earned her the immediate respect and devotion of those who witnessed the spectacle. Sebastian had no doubt that she was mot probably up to something.
“She is not doing anything in particular,” Dominic muttered, feeling somewhat foolish. Knowing he should just shrug and shake off his concern, he turned to his brother. “She is almost too good. She is being too careful in everything she says; very evasive, and almost cautious with her replies whenever I ask her anything. She’s hiding something.”
If You Were Mine Page 17