She felt bone-weary. Her stomach growled, a loud reminder that she skipped breakfast.
“Colonel Bishop took one shot, and it pierced the lung,” Mr. Edgars repeated, maintaining composure. “Inventory was taken before and after the hunt, as I’ve stated before. We are following protocol to the letter, my lord.”
“Where was Duke Kendall?” Matthew’s eyes narrowed.
Mr. Edgars’ face turned purple.
“You dare accuse—!”
“Rounds don’t appear from thin air!” Matthew’s words sliced the air. “No one else was armed!”
“Perhaps a poacher,” Mr. Edgars suggested, nose sniffing up.
“A poacher?!” Matthew’s booming yell echoed and Cassandra cringed. She understood the need for answers, but nothing could be done. It was a trophy stag. Even she knew that when she saw it. There were tracks everywhere. If there was a poacher, they would never find them.
“Cooper.”
All eyes turned to Seth.
“You’re being loud.” He looked at Cassandra pointedly, and her heart beat a steadytaptaptapin her chest, but then he looked away.
Pursing his lips, Matthew dropped into a chair and crossed his arms, seething.
Jasmine’s jaw dropped. Aunt Valentine watched intently, as didLord Bolderwood.
Mr. Edgars didn’t look surprised in the slightest.
In the break of Matthew’s tirade, her stomach growled once more.
With an aggravated noise not unlike when heripped her skirt off, Seth left the room, closing the door behind him with a deliberatesnap. An empty, lonely feeling came over her when he was gone, but she tamped it down. She wasn’t weak, and the danger had passed. She didn’t need him with her. And so, against the complaints of her body, Cassandra stiffened her spine.
Shortly after, there was a knock on the door.
“About time,” her brother said under his breath, allowing the doctor inside.
An elderly man with ashen hair, a lean build, and round spectacles introduced himself as Dr. Farnsworth. He placed a leather medical case on the tea table and spoke to Cassandra as if she were a child, “I hear you had quite the scare today, can you tell me what happened?”
“Wouldn’t we all like to know?” Matthew grumbled.
Cassandra shot him a glare.
Having had enough, Aunt Valentine stood tall, pointed at the door, and commanded, “Out!”
“I’m not leaving my sister.” Matthew stood at full height in response, with a protective snarl, and it looked as though Aunt Valentine would slap him.
“You willnottalk tomethat way, Matthew Cooper,” she ground out with a furious fire in her eyes. “Depart this room before I throw you from it.”
“I’ll have to agree. For the lady’s modesty.” Dr. Farnsworth met the eyes of everyone in the room one at a time and said, “I’ll need to examine her torso.”
Matthew blanched, averted his gaze and said, “I’ll be right outside.”
A silent Lord Dorchester followed him from the room. On his wayout, Lord Bolderwood stopped to speak in Dr. Farnsworth’s ear. The doctor nodded in response. With only Jasmine and Aunt Valentine left in the room, the two women helped her out of the top of her dress.
Exposed to a stranger, Cassandra fought the urge to cover herself, but glancing at her ribs, she gasped. Blue and purple bruising extended from under her breasts to the center of her stomach. As the doctor applied pressure, Cassandra choked and flinched away, exhaling in a sharp hiss.
Dr. Farnsworth clucked and sighed.
“The bruises are severe, but nothing appears to be broken,” he said. “Apply a willow-bark salve twice a day. Warm baths with rosemary should ease some pain, warm, mind you, not hot. No stays or restrictive clothing for the next three days, at least. I recommend bed rest today and tomorrow.”