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The wrap didn’t take long, but Donny looked on the verge of fainting by the end of it. Samantha felt another jab of guilt, straight to the heart. The poor fellow wasn’t as young as he used to be. Wasn’t it selfish of her to keep putting him in the line of fire?
“All finished,” Kendrick said as he tied off the wrapping. “I’ll cease torturing you now and let you get some sleep.”
“Thank ye, sir,” Donny faintly replied.
“Can you please let me know how to care for the injury?” Samantha asked.
Kendrick packed up his satchel. “I’ll write up instructions and send them around with some additional liniment. Donny needs to stay off his feet, of course. If the pain is too bad, I can give you some laudanum drops—”
“No laudanum,” she and Donny simultaneously exclaimed.
Kendrick looked startled. “I certainly won’t force it on you.”
Samantha had to repress the urge to blurt out an explanation.
“The bloody stuff curdles my stomach, Dr. Kendrick,” Donny said. “I’ll nae be wantin’ to shoot the cat, ye understand.”
“Yes, it can do that sometimes. Not everyone can tolerate the drug.”
And some tolerate it all too well.
Samantha gestured to the door. “I’ll show you out, sir.”
If Kendrick was offended by her terse suggestion, his manners were too good to show it.
He smiled at Donny. “Stay off your feet, all right? I’ll check in on you in a few days.”
“Och, I’ll be right as rain by then. Thank ye, and give my best wishes to yer brothers.”
Kendrick allowed Samantha to show him out. It appeared she and Donny had managed to pull it off, with the good doctor none the wiser.
“Thank you so much, sir,” she said, mustering a smile. “I’m sure you have a thousand things to do, and we mustn’t keep you any longer.”
He remained where he was, calmly studying her. “Actually, Lady Samantha, I would like to speak with you before I leave.”
Samantha glanced around the kitchen, where Lucy kneaded bread and Mrs. Johnson lurked by the stove. Both were unsuccessfully pretending not to listen.
“Oh? About what?” Samantha faintly asked.
“It might be best if we speak in private.”
CHAPTER9
Samantha stared at Kendrick as her fatigue-fogged brain tried to formulate a rational refusal. Sadly, nothing came to mind.
“I simply wish to ask you a few questions about the orphanage,” he said after a few moments. “I’d also like you to sit and rest while I take your pulse. I’m concerned about you, my lady.”
“I’m in the pink of health,” she finally managed, flapping a hand. “No need to—”
He snagged her wrist. “Fine, I can take it while you’re standing.”
“What? No,” she squawked, sounding like an outraged chicken. “There is no need—”
“Hush, please.” He deftly turned her wrist up and pressed the tips of his fingers onto her pulse.
Samantha cast a desperate gaze toward Mrs. Johnson. For once, though, her housekeeper failed to take the hint, as she made a show of setting up a tea tray and arranging the cups. As for Lucy, she ducked her head as she tried to hide a smirk.
“Bloody traitors,” Samantha muttered.
