Mr. Bennett nodded. “Quite stable, Your Grace. She has regained her composure and even had enough energy to argue with me when I told her that she was not allowed to ride for at least two days.”
That did sound like Agnes.
Silas exhaled in relief and voiced his thanks, nodding when the physician bowed and took his leave, holding a hand up to keep Simon in place until the door shut behind the physician, leaving only the both of them in the study.
“Head back to the stable and take the saddle off Scar and keep it aside for me. Along with the stirrup that detached from it. There is something I need to check.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Simon replied and quickly took his leave.
Silas stared out of the window, his fists curling on top of his desk in anger as thoughts on what happened raced through his mind.
If he was right, someone had done this – had sought to harm his wife-to-be and had practically succeeded.
And such an offense would not be forgiven.
“Are you sure there is nothing you need, my lady?” Beatrice asked for the fifth time in twice as many minutes.
“Some peace of mind, perhaps? It is not that bad, Bea. It does not even hurt unless I move it. I assure you, I am well.” Agnes sighed, feeling even more tired than when she had been examined to find out the extent of the damage.
“But –”
“Please go and do something else. You are starting to make me feel anxious with how closely you are keeping watch over me.”
Beatrice gasped, horrified at the thought of leaving her mistress all by herself.
“I most certainly cannot do that! You were on your own when you fell. I cannot leave you by yourself again. What if you come to need me?”
Agnes’ expression softened, and she tried to calm the younger girl’s apprehensive mind.
“Do not worry. This accident was caused by my negligence, and it will not happen again. But if you keep standing over me like that, I will begin to feel inclined to throw myself out of the window. So, please… just stand outside until I call for you.”
Beatrice looked as though she wanted to argue but thought better of it, curtseying before she left the room. Agnes exhaled in relief and relaxed against the pillows that had been fluffed and propped up so she could rest comfortably and thought back to the morning’s affair.
She was quite horrified over her reaction that had been brought about by a small fall. That she had fallen and was unable to land on the ground properly had been embarrassing enough, and then she had clung to Simon pathetically afterward. It was utterly humiliating, and she simply could not think of anything worse.
If she excluded Silas’ reaction, that is.
She did not know what she had expected him to say or do. She did not understand why her heart had wished to believe he would express some sort of concern over her situation or at least a bit of pity. Just because they had spent an evening in each other’s company, and it had not been completely awful did not promise a less irritating future for her in his company.
Still… his disregard for her condition had hurt, and she did not know how not to feel upset over it.
A knock on her door withdrew her from her thoughts, and she groaned, calling out in an annoyed manner.
“Seriously, Beatrice, I will not get better at all if you keep –”
The door opened, and the person who peeked inside was not her maid but, in fact, her betrothed. Her mouth snapped shut as heat filled her cheeks, and she immediately dropped her gaze down to her hands on her lap.
“May I come in?” he asked.
She nodded, stiffening as she heard him step inside and shut the door behind him. He lingered there for a moment and then stepped closer to the bed, speaking up quietly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like a woman who has been riding horses for over ten years and fell off one today. Embarrassed, disappointed, and in pain.”
He nodded sagely as though she had given him the answer he had wished to hear.
“I… I am sorry for how I spoke to you earlier. And the things I said. I didn’t – I should not have spoken to you like that. You were hurt, and I should have been more understanding.”