Free Had We Never Loved by Patricia Veryan Page B

they be, if you want to know it!”
    It was Glendenning’s turn to redden. He relinquished the blankets and lay back, breathing hard. The nightshirt he wore was voluminous. At least, he thought, he was decently covered. Amy’s hands were busied with his foot, and another gasp escaped him as she cautiously unwound a bandage.
    â€œAye,” she muttered. “I shall have to poultice it again.”
    He peered downward. “Is the bone broke?”
    â€œNot as I can tell. But ye landed on some fallen branches, and one of ’em jagged through yer boot. I tried to clean the wound, but it got infected, and—”
    â€œAnd we shoulda took his foot off. Like I told ye!”
    â€œThe devil you should!” argued Glendenning, frowning indignantly at the short but unexpectedly sturdy middle-aged man who had come into the room carrying a shallow wooden box and a steaming kettle.
    â€œâ€™Fraid, is ye?” sneered the newcomer. “Not surprising. All Quality gents are cowards. Yellow as new chicks, and as puny. Here’s the medicines you wanted, lass. Dunno why I give in t’ye. He ain’t worth it. Ain’t got sense enough not to gallop that fine mare through the trees at dusk, he’s so eager to ride down a innocent lad. ’Twere the hand o’ Providence that sent that there branch at his noble noggin.”
    â€œI’ll show you how puny I am when I get up,” promised Glendenning grimly. “And ’twas no branch that came at me, but the rope you’d stretched across my path. If you’d—”
    â€œWhat?” Amy had been measuring some powder into a small bowl, but now jerked around with a look of horror. “Absalom Consett—you never did? Oh, and how silly I be! As if you could’ve knowed he’d come that way!”
    â€œAr,” grinned her uncle. “Don’t ye listen to this dainty dandy, my chick. Just trying to make trouble, he is. After all we done for him! Typical!”
    Glendenning said firmly, “You knew I would go just that way, because ’twas the only clear path through the undergrowth. You likely keep that trap set for any troopers or constables chancing to venture too close to your camp, or whatever this place is.”
    â€œWhat a imagination,” sneered Absalom, coming up to peer at the injured ankle, but watching the girl out of the corners of his eyes. “Ain’t it wonderful what they teach ’em at them universities, Amy?”
    â€œT’will be easy enough to verify,” persisted Glendenning. “Go out there and look, Mistress Consett. Like as not you’ll find the rope still tied round one of the trees, and the rest of it concealed somewhere in the roots or the branches. Unless, of course, you do not wish to know.”
    She hesitated, looking troubled. Then she said with scorn, “D’ye think I’d take your word over his? Or care, if what you say is truth? When you go chasing humble folk, you deserve whatever ye gets!”
    Absalom chuckled. “And if that don’t put you in your place, Viscount Vanity, I dunno what—”
    Whirling on him like a tigress, Amy said shrilly, “Let him be! And get away from me, fer I swear I could—I could fair box yer ears, if you wasn’t me only uncle!” She sniffed, and added gruffly, “Which ye ain’t.”
    The sturdy man looked devastated. “Now—now, Amy,” he stammered. “Don’t never turn on me! You would’ve done the same to protect Florian. Ye knows it.”
    â€œI knows as I wouldn’t have done no such thing! I ain’t all bone ’twixt me earholes. Lord Glendenning may be a peer, but he ain’t a bad man. And what d’ye think would’ve come of it, if you’d broke his neck? No!” She gave a gesture of repugnance as he started to reply. “I don’t want to talk to ye! I don’t want to see ye! Go away and let me