Page 49 of Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love 1)

“Try not to move; as soon as we arrive home I will send for the doctor.”

Her first thought was to tell him, no, she was fine, but again she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder as she shifted. Instead, she closed her eyes and rested her head on Devon’s chest. “My shoulder,” she mumbled. “I landed on my shoulder.”

…

Instead of going to the mews, Devon rode up to the front of the townhouse. Bellows immediately opened the door and hurried down the stairs. “Oh, I say, my lord, is my lady injured?”

“Yes. She was thrown from her horse, who I assume has returned to the mews.” The door opened again and a footman ran toward them. Devon motioned to the strapping man. “Take her ladyship while I climb down.”

Bellows held on tightly to the animal’s reins as Devon handed Eugenia over, then dismounted. “Send someone for the doctor, and have Sally prepare her ladyship’s bed,” he said as he took Eugenia’s slender body from the footman. She gave a soft moan that twisted Devon’s insides. People had been killed when thrown from a horse. He shuddered to think of his wife lying on the ground with a broken neck, all the life in her gone forever.

He gathered her closer, careful not to move her shoulder, but wanting to feel the warmth of her body to assure himself she was indeed alive. At least she had awoken, an encouraging sign, but there could still be internal injuries.

The butler bowed and scurried up the stairs. Devon was right behind him, taking the steps two at a time. He strode down the corridor where he met Sally outside Eugenia’s room, wringing her hands. “Oh, my lord. Is my lady all right?”

“I’ve sent for the doctor. Let’s get her settled in bed.”

“Yes, my lord.” Sally moved to the bed where Devon laid Eugenia gently down.

“My dear, I will have Sally undress you and put you into something more comfortable.”

Eugenia nodded, but even that small movement caused her to wince. Devon leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead. He straightened and addressed Sally. “Call me when you have your lady settled.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Devon?” Eugenia winced as she shifted to look at him. “Will you have someone check on Jennie?”

“Of course, my dear.” Devon left the room, closing the door gently.

Left alone with his thoughts, Devon was stunned at how shaken he’d been to see Eugenia flying off her horse. The fool woman could have killed herself. Why he had allowed them to race made him question his good sense.

“Have Cook send coffee to the library.” Devon passed Bellows at the bottom of the stairs. “And notify me the minute the doctor arrives.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He barely made it down the corridor when a knock sounded at the front door. Eugenia’s brother, Nash, strode past the butler, his eyes fixed on Devon. “Is Eugenia all right?”

Devon waved him into the library. “I am awaiting the doctor right now. How did you hear of it?”

“I did not hear much, actually.” After removing his hat and gloves, Nash ran his fingers through his hair. “Bentworth stopped me at Hyde Park and told me Eugenia had taken a toss.”

Devon waved to a chair by the fireplace, then took the one across from his brother-in-law. “We were taking a morning ride, and I foolishly agreed to a race. The end of the run was to be a line of shrubbery. I made it over, but when Eugenia’s horse landed, for some reason, she was thrown.”

Nash paled. “Is she conscious?”

“Yes. It seems she hurt her shoulder, but we’ll see what the doctor says.”

A footman carried in a tray with coffee and pastries.

“Have you eaten?” Devon asked Nash as he motioned to the footman to place the tray on the small table in front of the fireplace.

“Yes, but coffee would be welcome.” The men fixed their coffee, then sat back. Nash took a sip from his cup, then placed it on the table. “I’ve never known Eugenia to race.”

Devon shook his head. “Neither have I. But, of late, she’s been somewhat different.”

“Different?”

There were some things he could share with Eugenia’s brother, but others—like her unusual behavior in the bedroom the other night—would never leave his lips. Nor his suspicions about a lover.