Page 47 of The Moonstone Governess
“Glad you liked the show,” he gently teased.
She groaned. “It wasn’t intentional.”
“I know.” He ran his thumb ever so gently along her brow. His humor faded when he spotted a cut along her hairline that needed to be cleansed. “You might need stitches. Let me check the rest of you.”
Fortunately, he found nothing else of concern beyond a small scrape on the palm of her hand where she might have fallen on a broken teacup. But it had hardly pierced her skin, and there was no shard to pick out. “Do you have a handkerchief?”
She nodded and withdrew it from the sleeve of her gown. “It’s clean.”
“Good.” He applied it to the area of her cut. “Hold it there. Lie quietly.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked when he left her side.
“I need to toss on some dry clothes before the Mongol horde arrives.”
“Oh. Yes, that is wise.”
He hurried into his bedchamber and closed the door firmly before anyone else walked in and saw him bare-arsed naked as he removed his breeches, quickly washed up and dried off, and donned buff breeches, a work shirt, and a polished pair of boots. He did not bother with a cravat, waistcoat, or jacket just yet, since it was more important to get back to Brenna.
The handkerchief must have fallen, for she was holding a hand to her head when he returned to her side. “Don’t touch the cut, love.” He saw blood ooze through her fingers when she obeyed and removed her hand. “Bollocks, don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
He hurried back into his bedchamber, took out several clean handkerchiefs, and carried the ewer, which had been freshly filled last night, and its matching basin into his sitting room. He doused one of his handkerchiefs with water and another with brandy from the corner cabinet that Thaddius kept well stocked to his specifications.
“Dr. Hewitt will do a better job of this, but I dare not wait any longer to cleanse it. We saw these sorts of wounds all the time in battle. When treated, they healed fast. If left untreated, they festered and… Well, we need to take care of this.”
He knelt beside Brenna and rinsed away the blood from the cut as carefully as he could manage without hurting her. She gasped several times, but there really was no way to wash it out properly without causing her a little pain.
Once done, he also washed the blood off her hands.
He then took the brandy-soaked handkerchief and held it close to her brow. “This will sting, love. Close your eyes and hold your breath.”
She shuddered when he pressed it carefully to her cut, but she was a brave thing and did not cry out. As a precaution, he also applied the brandy to the scrape on her palm.
By this time, Thaddius and Dr. Hewitt had arrived. “Doctor, she’ll need stitches,” Daire said. He quickly told the doctor what he had done.
“Excellent work, Your Grace. I see you’ve had experience with such wounds. In battle?”
He nodded.
It turned out Brenna did need stitches, but fortunately only three were required. Daire held her hand while the doctor sewed them to close her gash.
She had such a delicate hand, so little and soft.
He ran his thumb in gentle circles along her palm and whispered words of encouragement while the doctor worked on her. But his heart remained stuck in his throat all the while. Why was he such an arse? He knew the girl was innocent, and yet he’d uttered that stupid remark and set this latest mess in motion.
She was such a sweet thing and did not deserve any of what had happened.
“Your Grace,” she said, her voice soft as she struggled with her pain, “it is still raining. May I stay until it stops?”
“Yes, Brenna. Of course. You’ll stay as long as the doctor requires…even if it is for the entire month.”
Dr. Hewitt nodded. “I would rather Brenna not go home tonight. She should not be alone at least for the next twelve hours.”
Daire turned to Thaddius. “Leave your cousin here with one of your staff to watch her. She will not disturb me. We’ll figure out arrangements later. I’ll move into one of the rooms vacated by my friends, since Brenna should not be moved. Have any of them stirred yet?”
“Lord Hollingsworth has called for a valet, but the others are still abed.”
“Blast,” he muttered. “They won’t be out of here before nightfall at this rate.”
