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“Then what’s wrong?” he asked.
Ainsley sat forward, and she began to speak, her eyes filling with tears. She choked on the words, and Allen pulled her into his chest.
“Is it Cecelia?” he asked.
“Yes,” his father said.
No. It couldn’t be Cecelia. It couldn’t be. “What happened?”
Ainsley composed herself and said, “She didn’t want me to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Marcus barked. Someone had better come forth with some news soon, or he would go mad.
“She refused to see you this morning,” Ainsley said.
He nodded. “What of it?”
“She didn’t want to see you because her eye is swollen to the size of a turtle’s back and she has a bruise on her cheek.”
Marcus jumped to his feet.
“I had to tell you,” she called to him. He turned around and walked to her, pulling her to him for a quick hug.
“It’s all right. I’ll sort it all out.” He was trying to calm himself just as much as he was trying to calm her.
He said to himself as he walked toward the door, “I shouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”
“Wait, Marcus,” his father said. “I want to go with you.”
“Me, too,” Lord Phineas said, as he got to his feet.
Allen stood up and started for the door, as did Robinsworth.
“That bad, is it?” Marcus asked.
The women in the room looked at one another, and Ainsley was silently weeping.
“I really don’t need help finding the place,” Marcus said.
“I’m not worried that you’ll need help with that,” his father said.
“Who hit her?” Marcus asked, looking toward Ainsley.
“Her father,” she whispered.
Marcus took off at a run toward Cecelia’s house. Every man in the household joined him, as did his mother. “I’m going for Cecelia’s sake,” she explained. “Not for the rest of you.”
Marcus didn’t stop. He ran all the way to the door. When he got there, Mr. Pritchens was already pulling it open. He stepped to the side and Marcus said, “Where is she?”
“I knew you would come,” Pritchens said, his chest swelling.
Marcus gathered the lapels of Pritchens’s jacket in his hands and got in his face. “Tell me where she is,” he said quietly.
A thump came from the corridor where Mr. Hewitt’s office was located. Pritchens nodded in that direction.
“Mr. Pritchens!” Cecelia yelled, as she stormed out of her father’s study, but she came to a halt when she saw Marcus running toward her.
She reached up to cover her face. “Marcus,” she said, closing her eyes as he pulled her hands back to look at her.
