Foley appeared on an instant, then ran off at Mrs. Coxmoor's bidding for the ice.
Milburn had hurried up right behind Nick, exclaiming his horror and apologies for what had happened.
Mrs. Coxmoor brushed him aside, commanding Nick, "Take her to the house. It is growing chilly out here."
That Nick was still in his stocking feet and without his coat or cravat she ignored. Knowing it was important that Nympha be treated at once, Nick did as bade, carrying the unconscious girl with the greatest of care.
Foley held open the door, and Nick charged across the entry hall, demanding the location of her room as he went.
Annie appeared at the top of the stairs, gasping at the sight of her mistress. But she kept her head, leading Nick down the hall until they reached Nympha's room. After hastily tossing the bedcovers aside for him, Annie waited for orders.
Nick gently placed the still form down on the large bed, adjusting her legs and arms just so, then turned to greet Foley as he entered with a basin. Ice.
"A cloth, Annie. We shall wrap the ice in it, keep it on that lump." He had to remain coolheaded, competent.
The requisite cloth was promptly handed him, and Nick applied the ice at once. He could only pray that serious damage had not been done to her brain. He had seen chaps knocked unconscious like this, only to be witless once they finally regained awareness of their surroundings.
"How does she do, Lord Nicholas?" Mrs. Coxmoor silently walked to stand beside him, staring down at her grandniece with a strained expression.
"Too early to tell. A doctor?"
"Closest one is in Nottingham, some fifteen miles from here."
"I'll fetch him," Milburn offered. "Just tell me his name and direction." He stood just outside the room, his face a dull gray in color.
Mrs. Coxmoor replied without taking her eyes off her grandniece. "Thank you, but I have already ordered the groom to ride there. The doctor should be here within two hours."
Nick hoped that he would not be too late.
Chapter Six
The house remained strangely silent while they waited for the doctor to arrive. The tick of the upstairs hall longcase clock marked the passage of time. When it sounded the hour, Mrs. Coxmoor made a little sound of dismay.
"Surely he will get here soon. It seems like forever since I sent Henry to fetch him." She stood by the window, staring off at the gardens for a time before pacing about the room. "I should like to soothe her brow." The elderly lady looked drawn and anxious to do something for her grandniece.
"I will not leave Nympha." Nick felt as though he should be in command, although he had no right to assume this. "I know her parents, known
her
most of her life. I could not leave her now," Nick insisted in an undertone that would not disturb their patient. Of course his reasoning made little sense. He couldn't explain why he deemed it so important, but he knew it was.
He kept the ice in place, pleased to see the lump subsiding a little. "Foley, is there any more ice where this came from?"
"Indeed, sir. I shall fetch some directly." The butler had stationed himself by the door, intent upon helping if he might. Annie anxiously hovered on the far side of the bed.
It was a measure of the butler's concern that he sought the ice himself. In a brief time he returned with the bowl holding small chunks of ice. "I thought it better to bring just a few, milord. It does melt, and best to leave the rest where it is for the moment."
Nick didn't bother to ask where that might be. He wrung out the cloth, wrapping it around a piece of ice. Her forehead would turn all colors of the rainbow later. Now it simply looked bruised, and the lump a nasty gray and bluish red.
He thought she moved slightly, and wasn't that the faintest of moans? He bent his head so he might catch any sound she made. The scent of lavender clung to her, teasing his nose with her fragrance.
On the far side of the room Mrs. Coxmoor stood, watching. The fire had been built up, and the room soon became pleasantly warm.
"You don't think it too much heat?" He gave Nympha a worried look. She felt cool to the touch, but would it be bad for her to become overly warm?
"It should counteract the ice, I am thinking," Mrs. Coxmoor replied.
Nick made no response to that, merely tugging the light coverlet over Nympha. She stirred slightly. Nick bent over again, hoping she might say something. Oh, he hoped she made sense!
"Oh, how cold that is," she murmured. "What happened?" She batted a hand at him as though to brush away the ice.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Nick kept the ice where it was. "You were hit by Milburn's ball when we were playing tennis. Be still. You have a great lump on your head. I'm trying to help by placing ice on it. Supposed to reduce the swelling—at least I have seen it work before."
"I do not remember a ball," she said in a vague thread of sound.
"Do not worry your head about it now. All we want is to see you better." Nick smoothed her hair away from her face. He looked to where Mrs. Coxmoor now stood at the end of the bed. Her autocratic face was crumpled with worry, and she wrung her hands.
Nympha said no more, but Nick thought she seemed to rest a bit easier. Could she be sleeping, rather than unconscious?
The hall clock chimed the hour. A sound of footsteps echoed in the entry hall below. Foley shortly returned with a tall, lean gentleman who possessed an imposing set of side-whiskers. "Dr. Graham, madam."
The ex-Scotsman assessed the patient with an experienced eye, and then ordered them all from the room save for Annie. Mrs. Coxmoor refused, her voice and manner brooking no argument.
Nick left with reluctance. Somehow he felt as though Nympha ought to be in his care. "Mind the ice."
Dr. Graham gave him a stare, and Nick shut the door behind him as he left. The hall clock ticked loudly as he passed it on his way to the stairs.
When he reached the ground floor he wandered into the library. Here he found Milburn, his hair every which way, his jacket and shirt untidy.
Foley entered with Nick's coat, cravat, and boots. "The under gardener brought these up, milord."
Nick tossed the cravat aside, then shrugged into his coat and tugged on his boots. Once dressed, he wandered over to stare out of the window at the early-spring scene beyond.
Mr. Milburn appeared disconsolate, pacing back and forth in the library until Nick objected.
"You'll wear out the carpet at the rate you go. Try the hall tile." He eyed Milburn with dislike. At the moment there was nothing Nick would like more than to see the fellow at land's end.
Milburn paused, staring at Nick as though first seeing him. "Do you think she will pull through?"
"I could not say. She did rouse for a few moments, but sank back into whatever state she was in before. The doctor seems competent enough," he added thoughtfully. He left the window, hearing footsteps on the stairs.
Mrs. Coxmoor entered the room, crossing to where a tray held a number of bottles. "He insisted I had to leave." She poured out three glasses of brandy, offering each gentleman a glass before she took one with her to stand by the fireplace.
"What has the doctor to say?" Nick glanced to Milburn before returning his attention to Mrs. Coxmoor.
"Not much, as yet. He ordered me from the room, but made no pronouncement regarding Nympha. I merely objected to his bleeding her. Seems to me that it did my late husband no good." She cast Nick a belligerent look as though he might argue with her. He didn't.
Milburn left the room as though he could bear to hear no more. Within moments they heard the front door shut.
Nick slouched down in a great winged chair near the fireplace, where a fire flickered at a neat stack of logs. Like everything else in this house, it was perfectly laid, and burned enough to offer pleasant warmth. He leaned his chin on his left hand, which he propped on the chair arm, mulling over what had occurred. Seemed to him Milburn was a sponger. Nick had suspected that on the trip north. It wouldn't be easy to dislodge him from a pleasant spot.
"I like an apple-wood fire." Mrs. Coxmoor stared into the flames a time before turning to Nick. "Milburn has gone outside. Can you tell me what you think of what occurred out there? We have a bit of time on our hands before the doctor will offer his report."
"I have been considering that last shot of his. There is, of course, no explanation as to why he sent the ball that particular direction—other than to beat me. I must say, he hit that ball with remarkable drive and energy. Haven't seen the like of it before—other than in a champion match, that is. I cannot see why he felt it necessary for a little game between friends. Perhaps he just likes to win. There was no way I could have returned that shot."
"And is he a friend of yours?"
"I can't say I know him well. I have seen him about London, of course. We have not moved in the same circle, but still, London isn't all that large—at least the West End where the
ton
resides."
"Mr. Milburn lives there as well?"
"Don't know his direction precisely. I believe it is the Albany."
Nick rose as they heard steps coming down from the first floor. In moments Dr. Graham appeared in the doorway, looking to Mrs. Coxmoor at once. Nick took a step in his direction, then paused. Mrs. Coxmoor must have precedence. She was a relative; he was merely a man who has known the girl most of her life.
"Well, how is she? Will she mend, do you think?" Mrs. Coxmoor walked to where the doctor stood. She gestured him to enter, then walked at his side to the fireplace. All the while she studied his face.
"The ice was a good idea. She would have had a truly nasty lump had you not applied it so promptly. As to her mending, yes, she will. I suggest she remain quiet for a few days. When she feels more the thing, perhaps a light activity would be acceptable. Keep her quiet."
"Her mind does not seem affected?" Nick asked, his fears pushing to the fore.
Dr. Graham bent to the fire to warm his hands. "No. It is my thinking she had a nasty knock on the head, but no permanent damage has been done. She seemed lucid when I finished with her."
"Thank God," Nick murmured. "I was worried."
"You were right to be concerned. I have seen cases where the senses are totally disordered. I would say that is not the case with the young lady." He gave Nick a curious look, quite as though he wondered what the connection might be.
"I have known Nympha Herbert since she was a little girl. I'd not wish to see anything happen to her."
Dr. Graham nodded. He discussed the patient's treatment with Mrs. Coxmoor while Nick listened.
When the doctor had departed Nick resumed his seat near the fire. "Surprised Milburn hasn't returned to see what the doctor had to say." He finished the brandy Mrs. Coxmoor had handed him, then set the glass on a small table close by.
She drank the remainder of her brandy, took her glass along with Nick's to set on the tray. "I am sorry I invited the man to stay here. I had no idea he was intent upon doing away with my grandniece."
"Surely you do not think his action was deliberate?" Nick rose again to face her. "I don't much like the chap, but would he resort to murder? Why? What could be his motive?"
What she might have said in reply was not to be known as Milburn reentered the house, coming directly to the library in great haste.
"I saw the doctor's carriage go down the avenue. What did he have to say about Miss Herbert?"
For a moment Milburn's face was illumined by the setting sun. Nick thought he saw genuine concern there. Mrs. Coxmoor had to be wrong. Why would Milburn want to kill Nympha? Rather, he ought to be wooing her for the fortune she most likely would acquire.
"She will do well enough. Rest and quiet was what he prescribed." Nick watched Milburn carefully to assess his mood, his reaction to Nick's words.
"That and willow-bark powder for her aching head," Mrs. Coxmoor added. "I intend to give her some of Dr. Boerhaave's Infallible Red Pills. They always work for me when I have aches or pains. I suppose you favor Dr. James's Powders? I know many do," she said to Nick.
"I am never ill, ma'am. But I believe my mother does favor Dr. James's Powders," Nick said with a half smile.
Milburn smiled as well. Granted it was a strained smile, but he seemed genuinely relieved. "Perhaps I could just look in on her before dinner?"
Nick met Mrs. Coxmoor's intent gaze, wondering if she would permit Milburn this privilege.
"I think you might, providing you do not disturb her. Annie is with her. I will arrange for my own abigail to stay with her during the night. She will not be left alone. Not as long as she remains in this house."
"I'll go as well," Nick vowed, determined to see Nympha again to make certain she was continuing to improve. He wasn't jealous, not in the least. He simply cared.
When they peeked in to check the patient, Nick was pleased to note she had more color in her cheeks when she turned her head to see them.
Dinner was a light meal, and partaken of even more lightly. Only Milburn seemed to have any appetite. Once the meal ended, Nick pushed back his chair, turning to Mrs. Coxmoor with an unspoken question in his eyes.
"Go on up," the elderly lady said with a shooing motion. "I trust you will find her better."
Nick ran up the stairs, striding to Nympha's door while wondering if there was a cautioning in the words from Mrs. Coxmoor. He hoped to see that Nympha had regained more of her color.
Pausing outside her door he rapped lightly and eased it open. He nodded to Annie, then crossed over to the bed. Nympha looked very small and fragile in the vast bed. Her eyes were shut.
"Has she spoken again?" Nick studied the oval face with the blond curls spread over her pillow. How he wished he could see those saucy blue eyes now.
Annie still held a bit of ice to Nympha's forehead.
"No, milord. She answered the doctor's questions, but has said not a word since."
"I do not think I wish to take up tennis."