“Oh, I think I do,” he responded, moving her inexorably to the stairs. “I want to see this Dottie in person.”

“Don’t you trust me?” she demanded, mounting the stairs willy-nilly.

“Not in this matter,” he replied pleasantly. They reached the head of the stairs. “Where to now?”

Defeated, Petra gestured to the stairs to the bedroom floor and led the way to her own door. Guy opened it and ushered her into the softly lit, curtained room. He nodded his approval and reached unerringly for the bell rope beside the fireplace, pulling it once and then twice.

“That should produce results,” he observed amiably.

“People will think there’s a fire,” she declared. “You don’t need to wait any longer.”

“No, probably I don’t,” Guy agreed, taking the doctor’s vial from his pocket and setting it on the dresser. “I strongly suggest that you take that. A good night’s sleep will help the bruises.” He didn’t wait for a response, going to the door. “I’ll come by later this morning to see how you are.”

“You’re too kind,” Petra muttered, and was rewarded with a soft chuckle as he left her, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Dottie, her hair in curling papers, appeared in the corridor from the back stairs hastily tying the sash of her dressing gown. She stopped dead at the sight of the man emerging from her mistress’s bedroom, her eyes widening.

“Your mistress was in an accident,” Guy explained. “She needs to be helped to bed. Oh, and see if you can encourage her to take the sleeping draft. It’s on the dresser.”

“An accident.” Dottie’s hand flew to her mouth, then she ran to the open door of Petra’s room. Satisfied that he’d done all he could, Guy continued down the stairs to the front door.

He was crossing the hall when the door opened and Jonathan came in, yawning. He stopped in the open doorway. “Granville?”

“Yes, you may look askance, Rutherford,” Guy said easily. “Your sister was in a carriage accident . . . no, no, she’s not seriously hurt.” He held up an arresting hand as Jonathan’s mouth opened in shock. “But Aldershot is injured. It happened fortuitously outside my house, so I was able to help. Petra’s both shocked and exhausted. I brought her home and she’s upstairs with her maid.”

“How . . . what . . .” Jonathan stammered.

“I’m sure Petra will tell you everything. I’ll be by later this morning.” Guy put a reassuring hand on Jonathan’s shoulder as he passed him in the doorway and went out into the faint light of the false dawn.

Jonathan took the stairs two at a time and burst into his sister’s room without ceremony. “What happened, Petra? I just saw Granville.”