AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She looked sideways at him, forcing a small smile. Her gaze looked infinitely sad, and Braden had to resist the impulse to cuddle her.
This wasnota woman who needed rescuing, and he would do well to remember that.
“I appreciate your support, Dr. Kendrick.” Then her smile curled up into something a little more real. “And don’t think for a moment that I’m giving up.”
He smiled back. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Baines, who’d come around to their side of the table, rested a hand on her shoulder. “Bad luck, old girl.”
She patted his hand, which continued to rest, almost caressingly, on her shoulder. Braden had to restrain himself from knocking the man’s bloody hand back to where it belonged.
“Thank you, Arthur,” she said. “Though I was expecting it, it’s immensely frustrating.”
Braden rose and wandered away from the table, yet kept an eye on Lady Samantha and Baines as they carried on their quiet conversation. Baines was probably a good twenty years older than she, but he was a fit man with an affable manner and a face that most women would probably deem handsome. The lass obviously considered him a friend, if her easy manner with him was any indication.
He glanced over to meet John’s sardonic gaze.
Bloody hell.
His friend had clearly deduced his train of thought.
“So, how bad is this situation at the orphanage?” Braden abruptly asked.
John’s amusement vanished. “Bad enough. And as you saw, we can’t get the board to acknowledge that a problem even exists.”
At that moment, Sir Gregory stomped past them, with Lord Robertson leaning heavily on his arm.
John gave them a polite nod. “Good day to you, gentlemen.”
They ignored him and left the room.
“Good God,” Braden said. “You’ve certainly got your hands full with those two.”
“Now you know why we needed you.”
Braden glanced back to see Baines still standing over Lady Samantha. Thankfully, his hand was now off her shoulder, although they continued in their earnest conversation.
He resolutely turned back to John. “Yes, but I won’t thank you for pitching me into a right, good mess.”
And if he allowed his thoughts about Lady Samantha to enter the mix, it would be a right, good mess in more ways than one.
CHAPTER8
Samantha hurried up the stairs from the kitchen to the main floor. Her legs felt like lead, and exhaustion dragged at her body. It had been more than a full day since she’d slept.
Mrs. Johnson waited for her in the entrance hall. “Dr. Kendrick has arrived, my lady. I put him in the drawing room.” The housekeeper gave her an anxious perusal. “Yer lookin’ plum wore out. Ye should go rest. I can manage this.”
Samantha wavered, sorely tempted by visions of her soft mattress. But giving in would be foolish. They were taking a huge risk sending for Kendrick. If the good doctor became even slightly suspicious, it would be up to her to divert him.
Besides, it was her fault that Donny had been injured. She had no intention of leaving his side.
“Donny is not thinking clearly. I need to do the talking for him.”
“Aye, half a bottle of whisky for the pain will do that to a man.” Mrs. Johnson grimaced. “It’s a bloody shame that Dr. Blackmore is away.”
As it was, they’d waited until a marginally respectable hour to send for John, only to discover that he was out of town. That had left them with no choice but to send for Kendrick. Bathsheba’s note had insisted that Samantha should not hesitate to do so and that she could trust him, no matter the circumstances.
She really had no choice. If Donny had broken his ankle, it would need to be set by a professional.
