Pricing The Heart

Chapter 37

When David woke up, he was alone in his bedchamber. The heavy curtains were drawn over the windows, concealing what time of day it was, shrouding the room with darkness but for the lit hearth and dying candle on the table. He tried to rise, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, forcing him to collapse into a pile of soft pillows. The sudden movement sent a sharp pain through his side. He shoved the blanket aside and stared down at his bare abdomen. It was then he remembered the unfortunate incident that led to his stabbing. The wound had been cleaned and wrapped, but crusts of blood still stained his gray trousers.

He let out a foul word, cursing James and all he stood for as he reached to the side of his bed and tugged on the bellpull. Several minutes later, a soft knock invaded the silence.

"Enter."

The door opened, and the butler's lanky form covered the entrance. "My lord." He bowed his graying hair. "I'm relieved to see you're awake."

"What happened to the man who stabbed me?"

"Soon after you were brought home injured, and the physician was summoned to see to your care, your assailant was delivered to the constable. The physician says you're lucky to be alive, my lord. Your wound was... quite severe." And so was the pain. So incredibly excruciating it was, he fought to keep his eyes from watering.

Nodding, he balanced his weight on his fisted fingers and pushed himself to an upright position. The butler hurried to his side and tried to help, but he waved him off. "What about the woman?"

"We were uncertain what must be done with her. She's being held in a room below stairs."

Being held. David understood it meant the servants were keeping the young woman against her will, and while he imagined she must be frightened, he saw no fault in the actions of his servants. They were simply doing their jobs. They were right to have taken James to the constable, for he'd made it abundantly clear, right before he fainted, that he intended to have James arrested. As for the woman, he'd said nothing. The servants were wise in their decision to keep custody of her while they awaited further instructions from him. It was especially good because he was curious about her, eager to learn what connection she had with James.

Surely there was a connection between the two. James was indeed a scoundrel, but David didn't think him stupid enough to harass a random woman. Not only that, David had walked in on their conversation. He had heard the threat in James's voice while he brandished a knife before the woman and had seen the fear in her eyes as she stared up at him. The way James held her, the way he threatened her, almost seemed familiar. David had seen him do the same with Eloise at the cottage several months before. He was certain he would never forget the rage he felt watching James's fingers curl around Eloise's neck. The mere memory of the incident made his blood boil.

His mind wandered to Eloise, his desire to see her growing. He thought her nearness might ease the pain that crippled his body. Yet, he doubted she'd want anything to do with him, especially after their last conversation. And how could he blame her? Not for the first time, he'd cruelly broken her heart by refusing to acknowledge his love for her. And in response, she had turned her back on him.

Even now, he heard the sound of her departing footsteps. He felt the distance, and more than anything, desired to bridge it. But he was cruel in his thinking, because it was for her own good that there remained a barrier between them—for her safety.

"I'm famished." He shook his head to shake off thoughts of Eloise.

"Of course, my lord. Would you like your dinner to be brought up here or served downstairs?"

Dinner. It was late in the evening then, he wondered, turning to the closed windows once more.

"What day is it?"