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.