Page 67 of The Gentleman's Confession
Lisette brought a washing bowl to her just in time to catch Jemma’s vomit. There was not a worse way to wake up. After she had rinsed her mouth and cleaned her face, Jemma relaxed back against the bed. “What happened? Where are we?”
By the time Lisette finished explaining how she had been hit with a ball and had been recovering in a guest room at Rivenwood the entire day, Jemma was certain she had never been more humiliated. “I thought only children were struck by balls.” She groaned again. “Those poor creatures. It hurts like Hades himself jabbed me with his pitchfork.”
“There is naught to be embarrassed about,” Lisette assured. “You were carried off the field like a wounded queen surrounded by her undyingly loyal subjects—Brookeside’s formidable cricket team.”
“I do wish I could have seen that part.” Jemma fingered the collar of her nightgown. “And the cricket match? Did they win?”
“Everything hinges on the welfare of their queen. They called a draw for today and will start again in the morning if you have regained consciousness.”
Jemma sighed. She had caused a great deal of trouble for so many people. “On the chance of sounding ridiculous, how is my dress?”
Lisette frowned. “I am not sure the bloodstains can be removed.”
Jemma nodded. “At least I paraded it around for a short while. The design was one of my favorites.” She had hoped to sell the entire dress and send the proceeds to Chios survivors. She was still not certain how excited Mr. Bentley would be about his wife wanting to donate large sums of inheritance to a worthy cause, but she was determined to have an ongoing source of income for whatever charities spoke to her heart.
“The only thing you need worry about right now is recovering.” Lisette stood and tugged on the bell pull for a maid. “But first thing, we are letting the others know you are awake. Your little kingdom is worried about you.”
Jemma thought of Miles first. Was he concerned for her? She dismissed the thought. “Aunt and Uncle must be told first. Can we have a missive sent over straight away?”
“No need,” Lisette said, perching on the bed again. “They are downstairs in the library. Everyone is here. The Sheldons, Lady Kellen, the Rebels, Mrs. Jackson, and, of course, Lord and Lady Felcroft.”
Did everyone include Miles?
Oh, why did she keep thinking of him? She closed her eyes. How she hated putting people out. Her independent spirit fought against the very idea, but strangely, knowing everyone was downstairs made her feel wanted and loved as much as anything else. Soon, the maid entered, then left again to pass onthe news. The women flooded her side first, fussing over her and retelling the events of the morning.
“The doctor made a few stitches on the back of your head. He thinks the ball hit one of your bonnet pins,” Cassandra said from the end of the bed. “Every single brother of mine has needed stitches before, and I can tell yours were done neatly. It should mend well.”
“No wonder it hurts like the devil,” Jemma answered. “Pardon my language, Aunt.”
“Never you mind.” Mrs. Manning came over and took a chair someone had placed beside the bed, reaching for Jemma’s hand. “All that matters is you getting better.”
She tried to believe her aunt. She wanted to reverse time so she never took her walk. She had been so caught up in the turmoil in her heart, she had not even paid attention to the game. “I will focus on improving, but I wish this folly hadn’t happened in front of so many people. Perhaps then I could recover quicker. The embarrassment alone will set me back.”
Lady Kellen put her hand on the back of Mrs. Manning’s chair. “You wouldn’t be so flustered if you had been conscious. Your rescue was quite admirable to watch. Mr. Jackson was the first one to your side. He scooped you into his arms and, with my Ian’s help, brought you safely here. They did not leave you to be stared after on the side of a field, I assure you.”
Miles did that? She had a fuzzy memory of seeing him in the carriage.
“Everyone was deeply concerned,” Louisa added. “Mr. Bentley fainted.”
Jemma’s eyes widened. “Is he all right?”
“You know he doesn’t care for the sight of blood,” Lisette explained as if Jemma were already aware of such a thing.
“I must have been a sight for him to faint.” Jemma’s hand went to her disheveled hair. “I must still be a sight.”
“Nothing we cannot help with,” Louisa said, her smile cheering the room. “We cannot disturb your bandage, but with a washcloth and a little soap, we could get your hair pulled into a braid.”
“And perhaps put some broth inside you to bring your cheeks a little color,” Mrs. Sheldon added.
“A timely suggestion.” Lady Felcroft clapped her hands. “Come, ladies, let’s get started. Jemma will feel better once she is properly taken care of.”
The women burst into a flurry of activity, in and out of the room, and seeing to every need they could think of. A half hour later, Jemma’s hair was clean and braided, she was dressed in a fresh nightgown with a shawl about her shoulders, and she was slowly sipping broth. Her stomach was settling, and the chatter of women’s voices buoyed her spirits.
A knock sounded, silencing the room.
“Your heroes have arrived,” Lisette said. “Are you ready for more company?”
“I was wondering what was taking them so long,” Jemma joked. A wave of anticipation mixed with nerves rushed over her.
