Pricing The Heart

Chapter 12

David heaved a shaky breath as he settled behind his desk, his mind riddled with images of Eloise cowering on the floor. Pushing her down was terrible, but it was beyond vile to have left her there.

Did he hurt her? The thought made his head pound with a splitting headache. He thought of returning to Adam's bedchamber to see if Eloise was okay, but pride kept him glued to his seat, for he feared what she might think of him if he went running to her. She was his servant, not the other way around. Although he hoped for her wellbeing, he didn't wish to stoop low enough to find out.

Fighting to push the image of Eloise out of his mind, he turned his attention to the pile of papers on his desk. They were mostly business deals that needed his signature, and while his man of business had already gone through and approved of them, David was not easily trusting; he never signed anything he didn't read himself.

He sat skimming through the documents, his mind wandering to Eloise more often than he liked, until a knock pulled his attention to the door.

Sighing, he dropped the documents on his desk. "Enter." The door swung open to reveal Mrs Edward.

"Sorry to barge in on you for the second time in one morning, my lord." She curtsied.

"No need to apologize," he said, waving her off. The servants knew to stay away from his study unless the matter required his utmost attention, so he knew whatever prompted Mrs Edward to appear before him must have been important. "What's wrong?"

"Mrs Taylor, she's been injured." Mrs Edward's announcement was like a low blow to David's abdomen, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Wha—" His lips fell open, but the words failed to form.

"I'm not sure what happened, but she tells me it was an accident. I tried cleaning up the wound with some booze, but we're all out in the kitchen. I was hoping my lord could spare the cheapest bottle from your collection."

David rose to his feet. "Where is she?" he forced the words out.

"The kitchen, my lord."

He didn't think—he couldn't. Guilt propelled his feet, as well as a feeling of shame that clung to him as he made his way past Mrs Edward to the kitchen. He pushed the door open to reveal the large room, his gaze immediately settling on Eloise, who sat in the center of the room with her head on the worktable.

"My lord!" Mrs Carter, his cook, gasped, dropping the spoon in the pot she had been stirring over the stove. Eloise's head jerked up then, her eyelids bulging at the sight of him.

She sprang to her feet. "My lor—" the words died on her lips as a loud yelp tore from her throat. Pain marred her face, her fingers gripping the edge of the wooden worktable.

I did this to her...

Swallowing, he stepped forward, and she bowed her head as he approached. "Please, sit."

"Yes, my lord," she said—whimpered—as she settled on the stool.

"Mrs Edward tells me you're injured."

"Forgive me, it was not my wish that you be disturbed."

"But you are indeed injured?"

"It is only a minor injury, my lord. Certainly nothing major enough to warrant your presence," she answered, her fingers trembling where they lay on her knees.

"Where are you hurt?" he asked softly, hoping to put her at ease.

"My... My foot, my lord." She motioned to her right foot.