Free Fortunate Wager by Jan Jones Page B

lawn, transporting their sling with exaggerated care. He rolled his eyes at her. ‘Sort out those fools inside, will you?’
    Caroline flew indoors with the result that in a very short space of time a bed had been brought down from upstairs, a maid was making it up, there was a clear path to it from the terrace door, and the rest of the furniture was standing in a surprised manner around the walls.
    ‘Capital,’ grunted the doctor. ‘Easy, now. Miss Caro, would you…?’
    But Caroline was already there, cradling Lord Rothwell’s unquiet head as the four sweating grooms suspended the sling over the mattress. Harry positioned himself at his lordship’s feet.
    ‘Away,’ said the doctor. The sling was gently removed and the three of them lowered the injured man to the bed. They took a collective breath. ‘And now,’ said the doctor, ‘hot water, towels and a clean nightshirt and perhaps I can get to work on him.’
     
    This time when Alex awoke, he still felt fuzzy, woolly-headed and ill, but a great deal more comfortable. The room was shaded. He tried to turn his head, but was instantly nauseous. ‘What…?’
    A firm, cool hand on his brow stopped him moving. ‘You are at Penfold Lodge,’ said a voice. ‘You were found outside the stables and my brother had you brought indoors. The doctor says you are to remain as still as possible, not get agitated and only to drink barley water.’
    ‘The devil he does,’ muttered Alex weakly.
    ‘He also says you are far from out of the wood and if we do not have you in a delirious fever by nightfall then he does not know his own calling.’
    ‘You …’ He swallowed painfully. ‘You are a very singular nurse.’
    ‘It has always served Harry to know the truth. And if you do become fevered, you won’t remember I told you, so it won’t matter either way.’
    This was too difficult to work out. ‘I should like a drink, if you please.’
    ‘Very well, but you are not to move. Open your lips and take this straw. Now sip very gently or you will … there, what did I tell you?’
    A cloth dabbed the liquid away from where he had spluttered it out as he’d coughed. The incautious movement made his head feel as if it was on fire.
    ‘Once your body has learnt what it can and cannot do, you will prosper much better. Now sip a little , and run it around your mouth before you swallow.’
    Alex subsided, unutterably weak, unable to summon the strength to do anything but obey. It went against the grain to admit her method worked. He felt his grasp on reality slipping. One of these days, Miss Caroline would learn a good deal about her shortcomings as a bossy, managing female, but until then … He slept.
    *
    It was well into the afternoon before Mr d’Arblay, marvellously spruce and scented, arrived to enquire about his friend. Caroline lay down her book as he was announced. At last! She had sent a message to the White Hart hours ago!
    ‘By God, what a fearsome bandage,’ he said, glancing at the occupant of the bed. ‘I’ll lay you odds it doesn’t stay on above a day. Alex has never been one for sick-rooms, not even when we were boys. He’ll want to be up and about as soon as may be.’
    Caroline was still far from sanguine about Lord Rothwell’s recovery. She regarded the visitor’s airy confidence with extreme disfavour. ‘Then according to the doctor, he will do himself a great deal of damage,’ she said repressively.
    ‘I don’t fancy being the one to tell him,’ said Giles, laughing. He eyed the drawing-room furniture with amusement. ‘You have been much put out. I am sure my friend will be appropriately grateful. This is a fine terrace you have here.’ He turned the handle of the long glass door.
    ‘Mr d’Arblay! Pray do not let the cold air in.’
    ‘No need to worry about that. Alex doesn’t hold with a fusty atmosphere.’
    Caroline’s lips thinned. One could get remarkably tired of Mr d’Arblay remarkably quickly. ‘I shall take care to