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“Donny Broch. He’s been with my husband’s family for decades and has continued in my service. Donny accompanied my husband when he toured the Continent before our marriage, in fact. He’s like family, and I doubt we could manage without him.”
Now she was babbling, from nerves regarding the man pacing behind her or the fraught situation or both. Samantha felt entirely frazzled, which was not a helpful sensation when trying to keep her secret life from blowing up in her face.
Kendrick followed her down into the kitchen. “We also have staff that we regard as family,” he said. “They’ve brought us through many a scrape, especially when my brothers and I were just rambunctious lads.” He chuckled. “It’s a miracle they’ve put up with us all these years.”
“That is the Highland way, after all. On my father’s estate, we were related by clan ties in some way or another to almost everyone who worked for us.”
“I fancied I heard a brogue in your voice. You’re a true Highlander, I ken.”
“You ken correctly, Dr. Kendrick. My family is from Inverness-shire.”
She led him through the long, narrow kitchen and past the bustling Mrs. Johnson to Donny’s room, which was next to the stairs that led up to their garden. The location of the room allowed them to easily slip in and out of the house at night. That was imperative, both for avoiding notice from the neighbors and for keeping Felicity in the dark, as well. Although the girl had some idea that efforts were afoot to track down Roger’s killer—thus, her warning to be careful with Bathsheba—she had no idea that Samantha and Donny were the ones doing the searching.
She intended to keep it that way, too. As much as possible, she wanted Felicity to have a normal life, free from the burdens Samantha carried herself.
Now the searches would have to be curtailed. With Donny at her back, Samantha had never worried that she’d come to harm. They’d obviously grown overconfident, as last night had disastrously shown.
She opened the door and stuck in her head. “May we come in?”
Propped up on several pillows, Donny looked whey-faced and grim. He gave a terse nod.
Samantha’s heart contracted with worry and guilt. He’d not uttered a word of complaint but was clearly in monumental pain.
She stepped aside to let Kendrick into the tidy room, where a large bed took up most of the space. Donny was a big, brawny man—a hulking oaf, he joked about himself. But he wasn’t as young as he used to be, as the light filtering through the high window over the bed revealed. His red hair was shot through with gray, and deep wrinkles were carved across his broad forehead and around his mouth.
Her faithful companion was getting older, and she’d been too blasted selfish to notice before. Not that he would ever admit to what he would see as weakness. Donny was just as determined to find Roger’s killers as she was.
Samantha squeezed past Kendrick to stand at the head of the bed.
The doctor glanced at her. “You needn’t stay. I will give you a report when I’m finished.”
“I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind.”
“Ye dinna have to, my lady,” Donny said through clenched teeth. “I’ll be foine.”
She patted his shoulder. “Of course I’m staying.”
That pat was as much a warning as a reassurance. Donny hadn’t really had a half a bottle of whisky, but he had definitely imbibed a good amount. Between that and his exhausted state, he might stumble over his explanation. She intended to do as much of the talking as possible.
Kendrick’s eyebrows had briefly ticked up at her declaration. It wasn’t the done thing for ladies to sit in on examinations of male servants, so she knew how odd her insistence must seem.
“I’m not squeamish, if that’s what worries you,” she said.
His mouth twitched. “Good to know. Very well, then, Donny, I’m Dr. Kendrick.”
“A pleasure to meet ye, sir.”
Kendrick flashed a wry smile. “Probably not, under the circumstances, but I’ll do my very best to make you comfortable. I understand that Lady Samantha fears you’ve broken your ankle?”
“Och, my lady worries too much. It’s just a stupid sprain.”
“Donny, you can barely walk. Getting you back from—” Samantha bit her lip. And she was the one worried about Donny blurting out the truth?
“Getting my stupid self back from the jakes,” Donny quickly corrected. “Sorry, my lady.”
She gave a weak smile. His intervention made sense, since proper ladies also weren’t supposed to speak of such things as outhouses and necessaries.
Kendrick frowned. “You injured your ankle in the necessary?”
