“I am saying…you are lucky,” the physician said again, choosing his original wording. Francis nodded slowly then regretted it from the pain in his skull and held tightly to it. “I shall come back in the morning. Now, it is important that you get some rest tonight, Your Grace.” The physician passed the empty glass bottle into his assistant’s hands, and they packed up for the night, taking their medicine bag with them.
“Thank you,” Josiah said heartily to the two men as they stepped out of the door before closing it behind them. The moment they were gone, Josiah turned his eyes on Francis through the candlelight, with many questions lingering there. “Can you remember what happened to you?”
“Yes,” Francis said, knowing he would have to tell the tale some time. “First, some water.”
Josiah nodded and crossed the room, pulling out a carafe of water and pouring a glass that he dutifully passed to Francis. He sipped slowly, unwilling to push his stomach too far just yet, watching as Josiah moved a chair to his bedside and sat down.
“I am glad to see you are doing better,” Josiah said.
“Worried about me?”
“Yes, and I can give Lady Ridlington the good news,” Josiah said, sitting back in his chair. “She is so worried about you that she will not sit still. Diana has tried distracting her. Cards, music, books, conversation, anything! Nothing will do. She just continues to pace up and down, wringing her hands together, asking after you.”
Francis smiled a little, remembering the feeling that had swelled in his breast when he had opened his eyes to find Phoebe above him in the woods. She had saved him.
He knew how he felt about her now. It had been clear in that moment, so clear that when stumbling through the woods with her, he had been unable to stop himself from kissing her, needing that intimacy.
I am in love with her.
“Put her mind at rest, please,” Francis said, gesturing to the door.
“In a minute,” Josiah said, holding up a hand. “I first want to know why you were in the woods in the middle of the night.”
“Very well,” Francis said, placing the glass of water down on a bedside table and resting back on the pillows. “There was an intruder in the gardens. I went out to see who it was, started chasing them through the forest.”
“You said you thought it might have been Lord Ridlington,” Josiah said, his face stern. “Are you certain? It is one hell of an accusation to make.”
“No, I am not remotely certain,” Francis said, sighing. “I couldn’t see clearly. I could only see a man with his hair tied at the nape of his neck.”
“It is how he wears his hair, but it is not enough.”
“Agreed,” Francis said. “It could have just been a thief chancing his luck. Then he hit me when I got too close.”
Josiah shifted in his seat for a minute, scratching his face in obvious frustration before sitting forward in the seat.
“So, we do not know,” Josiah said in summary. “Without knowing who it was, we can’t really go to the constables either.”
“I know,” Francis agreed, lifting a hand to the bandage over his head the covered the cut. “There is one other thing know.”
“What is that?” Josiah asked.
“I was already down when the intruder raised the rock again. He was going to hit me another time, had it not been for a barn owl flying past that startled him.”
“Wait…hit you again? Then he…”
“Yes,” Francis said, struggling with the words. “I think they intended on killing me.”
Chapter 23
“Francis?” Phoebe said tentatively as she opened the door. She felt bold indeed walking into a Duke’s chamber so unaccompanied, even more so when she used his first name, but after all that had passed, formalities seemed absurd, and Josiah had assured her that Francis wanted to see her. Alone.
“Phoebe?” he said her name, urging her further into the room.
Phoebe closed the door behind her and rushed inside. Dawn light was beginning to break through the windows, marking the second day since the attack on Francis. He was sat up in bed, with his normal color much returned, though his hair was a little mussed from sleep. His blue eyes were alert as they found her across the chamber and a smile pinged into place.
“Thank the lord,” she said as she ran across the room toward him. She didn’t hesitate from reaching out to him, as he did her. He moved to the edge of the bed, still half covered by his shirt and the bedsheets, then flung his arms around her. Enveloped in his arms, she wrapped her own arms around his neck, clinging tightly onto him. “You gave me the fright of my life.”
“Me? Hardly my doing, was it?” he said with a chuckle from where his face was buried in the crook of her neck.
