Page 16 of The Last Debutante
“Are you surprised?” she asked, peeking up at him. “Does it not give you cause for concern?”
“What concern should I have, lass?”
“What if he is the man who shot you? What if he would like to finish what he failed to do the first time?”
Jamie smiled a little. “I suppose, then, that you’d have to protect me from him, aye?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Why are you trying to save me now? Why have you no’ summoned someone to come for me?”
She dropped her gaze again. “I don’t rightly know, to be quite honest.” She pulled the bandage completely free of his body, then her face fell. “Dear God.”
Jamie bent his head to see the wound the old woman had inflicted upon him. He probed it gingerly, wincing in pain.
She gasped. “Don’t touch it!”
“It’s no’ as bad as I feared,” he said with some relief. “The lead went through.”
It hurt like hell, but at least it didn’t burn like fire any longer.
“Leave it be, please,” she begged, and scooted off the bed, fetching the bowl and the clean bandages. “I am to apply this liberally to your wound,” she said apologetically.
“What is it?”
She looked down at the bowl. “I am not certain, in truth. I only know that she scoured the woods looking for the right plants to make the salve.”
“The right plants,” he scoffed. “There are plants that grow in these hills that are poisonous.”
“She’s been working very hard to save your life since she found you in the woods.”
Surely the chit did not believe the old woman had found him in the woods! “I wonder,” he said casually, “how she managed to bring me here.”
“The Brodie lads helped her,” the English rose said as she dabbed a cloth into the bowl.
“Ah, of course. One wonders why the Brodie lads have no’ come round to find out why I’ve been shot, aye?” Or to complete the killing the old woman had botched. He could well imagine there would be any number of Brodies queuing to have a go at that.
Her gaze met his for a moment before she turned her attention to the wound, applying a salve that smelled foul and stung like nettles.
“Were I your... Mamie,” Jamie continued, “I’d seek help. For all she knows, I am the one who shot first, aye?”
That brought her head up. “Didyou?”
“I donna know,” he said, steadily returning her gaze.
She flushed, dipped the cloth into the bowl, then dabbed it on the wound. Jamie tensed, his jaw clenched against the burn.
She put the bowl aside and picked up the new bandage. “It would be helpful if you could remember what happened.”
“Did you say, then, where the wi—your grandmamma has gone?”
“I didn’t,” she said distrustfully. “As it happens, she has at last gone for help.”
Ho now, here was an interesting turn. The old bat must believe that since he claimed not to remember, she might actually convince the authorities of her innocence.
The English rose made quick work of the bandage and tied it off neatly, then stepped down off the bed to admire her handiwork.
“Well done,” he said, a little breathlessly; his side throbbed painfully. “Are you a nurse, then?”
