Page 92 of If You'll Have Me

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“We were just leaving,” David said. Somewhere over the past few minutes, we had all become very comfortable with the idea of never being anywhere near Lord Murphy again.

Dr. Clarke understood and didn’t press David further. He took a deep breath and put an arm under Lord Murphy’s back. Lord Murphy let out a long string of curses, and Dr. Clarke returned nearly as many, challenging him to rise to the occasion.

With a sigh, David pushed himself to his feet and joined his friend, grabbing the other side of his father’s back, hefting him to his feet. They slowly made their way to Dr. Clarke’s horse.

“You couldn’t have brought your horse any closer?” Lord Murphy said through gritted teeth.

Through sheer force, they managed to get Lord Murphy into Dr. Clarke’s saddle. “Get me away from here,” Lord Murphy growled.

“I will,” Dr. Clarke said. “But now that you are settled, I need to look over everyone else to make certain there are no other injuries. If you can’t wait for me, you can take my horse to Tate Hall on your own.”

“There are no other injuries,” Lord Murphy said with another curse, but Dr. Clarke silenced him with a glance that was nigh unto murderous. Lord Murphy’s cursing stopped. Apparently, knowing his life would be in Dr. Clarke’s hands made him capable of listening.

Lord Murphy gave each of his children a withering glance and turned the horse toward the house.

David and Dr. Clarke returned to Julia and me. Julia’s eyes were downcast, her hands were starting to shake. Her laughter from earlier had fled.

Dr. Clarke knelt in front of her, put a hand under her chin, and lifted her face. He studied her eyes, then took off his gloves and put a hand on her wrist, feeling her pulse.

“You may be in shock,” he said softly.

“No.” She shook her head. “I am well.”

Dr. Clarke turned to David. “Are you certain you want to leave tonight?”

“We aren’t going far,” David answered. “At least, not tonight.”

“Will you tell me where you are going?”

David shook his head. “No.”

Dr. Clarke stood, put his arms around David, and held him close for a moment. Then he slapped one hand hard on David’s back. “Good,” he said. “It is unfortunate for me to lose a friend, of course. But I’m very happy for you.”

Dr. Clarke turned to me, took my hand, and kissed my knuckles. “Mrs. Tate, I wish you a long and happy life.” He held my gaze for a moment before turning to Julia. “And, Julia.” He dropped my hand and took hers in a firm grip. “Get in a bed and sleep as soon as you can.”

Julia nodded.

Dr. Clarke hit his hands on the side of his legs, cleared his throat and started his walk back to Tate Hall.

This time, Julia and David both took their time looking over the house, the lands, and the man walking slowly away from them before turning around and walking away from it all.

David took my hand in his, and I dropped my head onto his shoulder. He put his other arm around Julia, and the three of us walked away, bedraggled and tired. David kicked a stone, and it rolled down the path, bouncing and jumping as it hit bumps and divots. Isighed softly, and then David’s voice, low and melodic, broke the quiet of the evening with the first words to the hymn “Rock of Ages.”

I basked in the sound of it for several bars and then lifted my voice to join him.

By the time Julia joined in, David and I had left our soft voices behind, and we belted the song into the night.

When we finally reached the Mortensens’ home, Maren swung open the door, took one look at us, and put her hands on her hips. “I could hear the three of you for the past five minutes coming down the path. It takes a lot of nerve singing out like that this late at night.”

David laughed. “Nerve is all we have left, Maren. Let us have it.”

“Did I hear a shot earlier?” she asked as we walked in the door.

I nodded. “Lord Murphy was in a hunting accident.”

Maren’s eyes widened, and she looked at the path behind us. “Is he ... dead?” she asked.

Julia shook her head. “No, David wouldn’t let me kill him.”