Page 44 of Counting on Love

Georgiana sniffed. A sorry way to go about it.

Alice was not finished. “Whatever made you kneel in the dirt? It was wonderful of you, of course, but I couldn’t have brought myself to do it. I mean, I couldn’t have helped with the bandages. How did you know what to do?”

“I did what Lieutenant Taverston indicated.” She shuddered, picturing the profusely bleeding gash on Jeremy’s head, and his leg, bent at that unnatural angle, also cut and bleeding. “I couldn’t merely fetch for him. He only has two hands and needed at least four.”

“And that strange man who returned with the grooms? Adam? Who is he?”

“Lieutenant Taverston’s valet, apparently.”

Alice’s expression turned incredulous. “Do you believe that? He doesn’t act like a valet.”

He did not. A short, doughy man, he had a Greek complexion and wore military clothes that fit so poorly they appeared borrowed. The moment he’d appeared, leaping from the cart, Lieutenant Taverston had yielded to him, gesturing for Georgiana to back away. “Let my valet have a look.” They’d spoken in low tones over the boy, who was no longer in a faint. His bleeding had been staunched. He’d ground his teeth and manfully tried to hold back his moans as Adam lifted the bandages, touched his bent leg, and then murmured questions at him.

Georgiana heard only the end of the discussion when Adam said, “Clean break. The doctor can set it. Brain is bruised. He should be moved as little as possible for a sennight.”

When they finally made it back to the house, they discovered Dr. Haraldsen had been sent for but had not yet arrived. Poor Jeremy was carted off to a guest chamber in a different wing. Jeffrey was sent home to explain things to the Squire.

“I think Adam must have worked with the army surgeons. He appeared to have some knowledge,” Georgiana said. How he’d ended up a valet, she could not guess.

Jeanette held up two dresses. “Rose? Ou jaune?”

Both were reworked from last year. The colors were pale, the fabrics medium-weight, the styles demure, though the ruffled trims had been replaced with braiding and the cut was a bit more daring. They were too similar to choose between.

She sighed. “I don’t care.”

“Oui. La jaune.” Jeanette placed the pink back into the wardrobe. “And for you, Miss Fogbotham? Would you like your blue muslin? With the green trim?”

“Yes, fine.” Alice sprawled on the bed. “Are you going down straightaway, Georgiana? I can’t face them just yet. Tea won’t be for another hour. I need to lie down. Is that weak of me? I don’t think I’ll ever go on another hunt.”

“I don’t want to see anyone either. But I’m too agitated to lie down.” She bit her lip. “I think I’ll slip off to the library and see what is there.” She hadn’t mentioned finding the Principia earlier. If the books were still there, she would tell Alice about them. She wanted to share her excitement. But if they were gone, it wasn’t worth mentioning.

Jeanette dressed Georgiana first, fixed her hair pins, then let her go and turned her attention to Alice, whose hair always took longer to tame because of the tangle of curls.

Georgiana went downstairs. Passing the open parlor, she saw Lieutenant Taverston inside, pacing. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps and called out, “Lady Georgiana, may I speak with you a moment?”

“Certainly.” She stepped to the door.

“I must apologize.”

“No, please! I was happy to do what little—”

“Not for that. I appreciate your help and thank you for it. I apologize for the liberty I took in addressing you.” His cheeks held a faint flush. She would have thought nothing could embarrass him.

Confused, she asked, “Liberty?”

The pink faded and his lips curled on one side. “I called you ‘Georgiana.’”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Well, I didn’t notice.”

“Neither did I. Jasper told me I did.”

“And ordered you to apologize?” How beastly.

“No, that was my own initiative.”

“Well, your apology is accepted of course, but is entirely unnecessary. In fact, I hope you will continue to call me Georgiana. After the day we’ve been through…”

“And you must call me Crispin. Please do. And Miss Fogbotham must as well.”