Doctor Quinney kept up a cheerful patter as he sliced through Cynthia’s layers to expose her shoulder. He paused before he cut over her chest.
“Shall we ask His Grace to exit the room?” he asked softly.
“He can stay,” Cynthia croaked. “I was going to show him my bosom anyway.”
Alexander covered his fire-red face with one hand.
“She’s jesting,” he assured the doctor.
“You slid down on skis a second time.” She gave Alexander a wobbly smile. “I promised you’d earnsomething.”
“Whereas you,” said the doctor, “took an arrow for your efforts. Fortunately, the trajectory was impeded by your thick coat and so many layers. The arrowhead came out cleanly, and the torn flesh will only require a few stitches.”
Arrowhead.
Torn flesh.
Alexander dropped his head between his knees and tried to breathe.
Cynthia’s tremulous voice sounded amused. “Is the big strong duke afraid of a little bit of blood?”
“I never was before,” he mumbled. “But when it’s you...”
“A funny phenomenon that happens all of the time,” said the doctor with a chuckle. “Nurses who tend horrific battle wounds discover they cannot withstand the tiniest cut on their child’s finger, all because it’s someone they love.”
All because of someone they love.
“No,” Alexander rasped. “Dukes are not ruled by romantic emotions. Mayhap I’ve just turned into a coward.”
Cynthia Louise closed her eyes.
“Mayhap you have,” replied the doctor cryptically. “Will you ring for boiling water and fresh towels? I have needle and thread in my satchel.”
Needle and thread.
Alexander sprang up from the dressing stool and dashed to the wall to tug the bell pull.
It was answered immediately.
“Your Grace?”
“Boiling water,” Alexander barked. “Fresh towels.” He suddenly remembered Max. “And... a hot bath and clean blankets.”
The maids nodded and bobbed and scurried away.
He approached the bed with caution.
Doctor Quinney was holding a thick square of gauze to the wound, hiding it momentarily from sight.
Alexander lifted the wet, shivering lump of fur from the middle of the bed.
“Max is sorry, too,” Cynthia said. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”
“I’m going to give him a bath,” Alexander said gruffly. “And then perhaps Doctor Quinney can glance over him once he’s finished attending you.”
A knock sounded at the door.
When Alexander answered, maids poured in with fresh towels and boiling water for the doctor, followed by a pair of footmen carrying a hot bath for Max. Another maid hurried in behind them bearing soap and blankets.
