Page 29 of Dueling with the Duke
Bridget smiled.
“Until the next time, Lady Bridget,” the Duke said, pretending to doff his cap.
Bridget wanted to assure him that there would not be another time alone together, but all she could do was smile some more as she limped back into the building.
CHAPTER11
Recovery
“Oh, my goodness!” Margaret exclaimed upon entering the room. “Were you in a fight, Sister?”
Bridget brought her hand to her face again, becoming a little self-conscious. She had checked the cuts on her face and was sure they were not all that gruesome.
“Only with a bush,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of resilience. “I would like to say that the bush had it worse, but it is still standing.”
Bridget smiled and tried to play it off as a joke, but Margaret still looked worried.
“And you are in bed?” Margaret asked. “Have you broken your leg?”
“No, nothing like that.” Bridget laughed. “I might only have twisted it a little. I will be back on my feet in no time, or back on my foot.”
Still, Margaret did not laugh. “What about the wedding?”
“What do you mean?”
“It is less than four weeks until my wedding. Will you be limping around? Will you be able to dance?” Margaret asked.
“I will be fine,” Bridget assured her. “By the time the wedding comes around, I will be dancing and jumping of joy for you, Margaret. There will be nothing that will stop me from being at this wedding, and nothing will spoil it.”
“Nothing?” Margaret asked.
Bridget shifted in the bed, sitting up a little, and she tried not to show her discomfort as she moved. It was not only her ankle that was sore but her side, too. It really was not all that bad, and she had declined a visit from the doctor so as not to make a fuss, but she did not want to worry her sister by showing there was some lingering pain.
“No, nothing,” Bridget replied. “I already told you that my injuries are not that bad.”
“I’m not talking about that,” Margaret claimed. “I am talking about the Duke of Sheffield.”
Bridget looked her sister in the eyes, trying to act a certain way for Margaret’s benefit, remaining impassive.
Does she know I was with him this morning?
“What about him?” Bridget asked as nonchalantly as she could.
“Will the two of you continue to argue even at the wedding? I can see it in your eyes that you dislike him intensely. I only ask that you try to get on with him for my sake.”
“Margaret,” Bridget stated firmly. “First, you suggest that I should marry His Grace so that we can be married to brothers, and now you suggest that I try not to dislike him so much. Which is it?”
“You tell me,” Margaret replied.
“We might have had one disagreement, and it was a debate and certainly not an argument. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I have no intention of marrying the Duke of Sheffield, but that does not mean we can’t be amicable.”
He is handsome, but he ruins that with his outlandish behavior. He is a rake who tries to get a rise out of people, and he is certainly not the type to settle down.
“Where have you gone, Sister?” Margaret asked.
“Sorry?”
“I was talking to you, and your face has gone blank. Are you sure I should not call for a doctor?”
