Free Lord and Master by Rosemary Stevens

bottles onto a clean cloth and gently began cleaning the wound on Mihos’s leg.
    Lord Ravenswood heard a small sigh escape her lips. “Is it severe? Will he lose the leg?”
    Daphne turned and smiled at him. Anthony experienced a rush of emotion at that smile, but told himself it was concern for Mihos that caused the sensation.
    “No, I believe the wound looks worse than it is because of the amount of blood on his fur. See, when it is cleared away, there is a nasty laceration indeed, but I am confident we can take care of that.”
    “Why has he not woken?”
    “Well, as to that, did you not say he bumped his head when he threw himself at the coach?”
    “Yes.”
    ‘There is our answer. He may have a very slight concussion. I cannot feel any lump on his head, so I believe it not to be critical. He should regain consciousness at any time.” She chuckled. “One might say we are fortunate he has not yet awoken, so we may tend him without any protests.”
    Lord Ravenswood watched her every movement as she spread a vile-smelling liniment over the cleaned wound. “You are a capable lady, Miss Kendall. I am most grateful for your assistance, and am pleased Eugene suggested we bring Mihos to you.”
    Daphne felt a glow inside at the earl’s compliment, but it was followed by a little pang of disappointment that he had not thought of her himself.
    Still, she smiled her thanks at him. “You are aware, I think, of my fondness for animals. Mihos holds a special place in my heart.”
    “He is not a bad fellow,” his lordship allowed.
    Daphne thought the cat had worked his way into the earl’s unwilling heart, but kept her opinion to herself. She called to an eager maid of about fourteen years and gave instructions on watching the cat and what to do if he woke. Another maid entered the kitchen and reported that Miss Shelby had recovered and had asked for tea.
    Hearing Hamish grumbling about his roast having to be kept warm, Daphne gathered her medicines and impulsively turned to the earl. “My lord, would you care to dine with us this evening?”
    Lord Ravenswood put a hand to his head. “Good God, the Blenkinsops. I was to dine with them before Almack’s. I have been horribly rude, as they expected me almost an hour ago.”
    “Almack’s,” Hamish blustered. “Glad I ain’t a member of the Quality and forced to drink that weak punch I hear they serve.”
    Daphne ignored the cook and pinned a bright expression on her face. “You must go, then, my lord, and perhaps I shall see you later at Almack’s.”
    Lord Ravenswood bowed. “Thank you for your invaluable assistance, Miss Kendall, and for your kind invitation to dine. As you are to attend Almack’s as well, may I ask that you save a waltz for me?”
    Daphne’s breath caught in her throat. He was standing so close. His eyes held hers and mentally took her to that place where they were alone. “Yes, I shall save you a waltz,” she whispered.
    Lord Ravenswood kept his gaze on hers for a moment while he gave a last stroke to Mihos’s head. Then he left the room.
    Daphne stood imagining how it would feel to be held in the earl’s arms for their promised dance. She remembered hoping at the Huntingdon’s musicale that she might share a dance with him tonight at Almack’s, and now her wish would be granted.
    She absently washed her hands, then reached behind her to untie the apron about her waist, and her hands froze. Heavens! After all the trouble she had put herself and Biggs through earlier deciding on a gown to wear, here his lordship had seen her in her oldest, plainest gown!
    Tarnation! Embarrassment brought color to her cheeks, and she determined she would captivate him at Almack’s.
    Then a stray thought flitted across her mind. Was she capable of affecting the aloof earl in matters of the heart? Or was he destined to become yet another gentleman put off by her Fatal Flaw?
    If only she knew what it was.
    * * * *
    Lord Chesterfield’s observation, about