Free Jamintha by Jennifer Wilde Page A

sleeves of the robe, I wrapped it around him and tied the sash loosely. In a few moments I had him propped against several cushions and began to remove the boot.
    It was difficult. The ankle had swollen. I tugged and pulled, trying not to hurt him any more than was absolutely necessary. He groaned, thrashing his head. I saw that this method wasn’t going to work. Gripping the boot firmly, I gave one savage jerk, almost falling over as it came free. Brence Danver screamed in anguish, sitting up with a start, his eyes wide open. He cursed me, using words I had never heard before, and then he fell back against the cushions in a dead faint.
    I bathed the foot in alcohol, handling the bruised flesh with care. I wrapped it tightly with one of the cloths Susie had brought. The doctor would bandage it properly later on. Pulling a chair over to the sofa, I sat down beside it and watched him as the clock ticked slowly. He was sleeping peacefully now, and his brow didn’t feel so feverish. Almost an hour passed before Susie returned with the doctor.
    â€œIt’s merely a sprain,” the doctor said, examining the ankle. “He’ll be able to walk on it in a day or so.”
    â€œHe had a terrible fever—” I began.
    â€œNot at all surprised,” the doctor said brusquely, taking bandages out of his bag. “I can still smell the liquor. How much did he drink, do you know?”
    â€œAlmost a bottle.”
    â€œHmph! He’ll kill himself one of these days. He’s been warned.”
    â€œHas he—has he always drunk so much?” I asked hesitantly.
    â€œHe went on his first binge at seventeen. Hasn’t stopped since.”
    Doctor Green, at least, was one person who wasn’t afraid of the Danvers. He certainly had no reservations about speaking his mind, frankly and without professional niceties. He began to bandage the foot, handling it none too gently. Susie assisted him, and I stood in front of the fireplace, cringing every time the doctor’s rough treatment made Brence groan. Doctor Green finished up and began to repack his bag.
    â€œDon’t try to move him tonight. Let him sleep it off. He’ll feel like hell in the morning, but the worst is over.”
    â€œHe’ll be all right?”
    â€œUntil the next time,” he retorted.
    Susie showed the doctor out and returned to the drawing room.
    â€œI’ll fetch some blankets and put another log on the fire,” she said. “He’ll sleep comfortably the rest of the night. You’d better go on up to your room now, Miss Jane. You must be exhausted.”
    â€œYes. I—I suppose I am.”
    I went to my room. I washed and changed into a fresh dress. As I brushed my hair and braided it, I seemed to be in a trance. I was suffused with new sensations that seemed to glow inside. I tried to ignore them. I tried to deny them. It was futile. Bewildered, alarmed, completely horrified, I realized that I had fallen in love with Brence Danver.

CHAPTER FIVE
    A week passed. I did not see him even once. He had not dined with us, but I knew that he was up and about. Susie had informed me of this, adding that his ankle was as good as new and no one would guess he’d ever sprained it. It was a long week, and during those days I mastered my emotions, banishing the love I couldn’t deny. It was a futile love, and I had enough good sense to realize it. It was still there, still very much alive, but it would be kept deeply inside. Perhaps, if I were lucky, it would suffocate and vanish entirely. Cool, reserved, prim, I would never allow myself to acknowledge it again.
    When it was not raining, I walked on the moors, frequently staying away for several hours, and when the weather would not permit it I stayed in my room re-reading the few books I had brought with me. I was restless, and I was lonely. Susie was a bright, cheerful companion, but she took her duties seriously and they kept her occupied