He now turned to his trusted housekeeper. “Miss Temple needs a bed. Give her my best.”
He had a dozen bedchambers in his house that were unused and would be finer than any she had ever slept in.
“Your Grace, I think she will enjoy the East Room,” Mrs. Fitch said, scampering up the stairs behind him. She was referring to the guest chamber with flowers and butterflies on the wallpaper, a room so feminine and cheerful, it gave him a headache. “But I’ll need a few minutes to get it ready.”
“Fine, I’ll put her in my bed in the meanwhile.”
His housekeeper gasped. “Your Grace! It is indecent!”
“Do not lecture me, Mrs. Fitch. Is it decent to leave Miss Temple writhing in pain? Send one of the maids to serve as herchaperone. And do not send me someone squeamish. I need to set her shoulder back in its socket, and that is going to hurt like blazes.”
“Oh, poor Miss Temple,” she said, and scrambled off to carry out his orders.
Jonas carried Ailis into his bedchamber. An odd feeling came over him as he placed her gently on his bed. “Don’t fall back, Ailis. Can you remain sitting up? Just for a little while longer.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’ll be quick, love. Then you can rest against the pillows.” He propped them one atop the other before proceeding to remove her hat, scarf, cloak, and gloves, and then he knelt to remove her boots. He dared not take anything else off her without someone on his staff to chaperone. But when Ailis began to heave as though about to cast up her accounts, he slid the chamber pot out from under his bed and instructed her to aim there if she felt anything coming forth.
He waited a moment for her nausea to pass, but dared not hold off any longer. “Ailis, I need to get at your shoulder. I have to loosen your gown, love.”
Why was he now referring to her by that endearment?
She stared up at him. The bejeweled green of her eyes met the dark brown of his.
By heaven, she had the prettiest eyes.
But that was to be pondered another time. “Your gown has to come off, Ailis. At least down to your waist. Well, it is best that you simply take it off, because it is damp from your fall into the snow and you’ll catch a chill if you leave it on.”
Besides, she wouldn’t be going anywhere for days yet.
“All right,” she said, each word holding an abundance of agony, so that he knew he had to work fast to undo the laces and tapes. There weren’t too many in the way. Ailis’s gowns were practical and most were the sort easily laced by herself.
He knew she did not have a lady’s maid and probably counted upon the vicarage housekeeper—Leo’s mother, Mrs. Curtis—to assist her into the one or two finer gowns in her possession.
“Your Grace,” a gravelly, feminine voice called from the doorway. “Mrs. Fitch sent me up here to assist you.”
He glanced at the middle-aged woman who had been in service to his family for ages. “Come in, Martha. You’ll be serving as Miss Temple’s chaperone. Help me get this gown off her.”
“Your Grace!”
“Save your protestations for later,” he said with a growl. “I am interested in her shoulder, not her body. Miss Temple has to be in excruciating pain. Be as gentle as possible. I’ll hold her while you slip it off.”
Despite having declared no interest in Ailis’s body, he found it hard to ignore its surprising splendor. Heat shot through him as he wrapped an arm about her waist. She was soft and nicely shaped, full in all the right places and trim in others.
In truth, she was more beautiful than he had ever realized.
But the implications of this revelation, now extending to her eyes and her sweet body, was to be considered another time. “Miss Temple, I’m so sorry. This is going to hurt.”Hurt you terribly.She would soon find out just how much, unfortunately.
He took her arm, holding it gently by the wrist while he began to raise and rotate it ever so carefully. With his other hand, he carefully guided the protruding bone back into its ball socket.
She cried out, for he had to repeat the slow rotation three times before her shoulder was securely back in place. It was an ordeal for Ailis, but she managed it as bravely as any soldier he had ever tended.
She could not hold back her tears, however. They streamed down her pale cheeks in a steady flow.
“The worst is over, Miss Temple,” he said, addressing her with proper formality because they were not alone. “I’ve got it back in place now.”
“Oh, thank heaven,” Martha whispered.
