“How do you feel?” Bradley asked.
“The scar is tight and burns when I move. But it’s this blasted rib that pains me above all.”
“Ribs do that. I can bind you up and leave a poultice to apply topically for pain. Laudanum would help.”
“No. I need my wits. And I need to get out of this bed.”
“Can you not stand?” Dr. Bradley asked.
“I can. But I’m not allowed. I tire easily from the lack of physical activity.” Sam turned pointedly to Miss Smith.
“Lady Amelia is concerned,” she said.
“He should gradually increase his activity, or his muscles will waste away,” Dr. Bradley said. “There is no cause to keep you confined to the bed for the rib as long as you are careful with your movements.” He pressed his fingers against Sam’s rib, and the instant severe stab of pain brought on nausea.
“Yes, it’s broken, just as I said before. Only time can mend it. I can feel the healing break, but it is not displaced. You’re a miracle, my lord.”
“So I’ve been told,” Sam panted as the pain ebbed slowly. Dr. Bradley lowered his shirt back down, and Sam immediately wanted Daisy back in sight and away from Mr. Chase.
“Tell Miss Blakewood she can return,” Sam said to Miss Smith. She hesitated but then did as he told her. Daisy was smiling at Mr. Chase when they entered, and Sam scowled at him. But she wasn’t blushing. He must not be as charming as Sam was, or maybe Daisy blushed because she was embarrassed? Was he embarrassing her with all his attention?
“I’d like to see you stand, my lord.” Dr. Bradley said.
Sam nodded. He shifted himself to the edge of the bed and dropped his legs over the side. His feet tingled painfully as the blood rushed to his toes and he winced.
“You’re in pain?”
“Yes.” Sam had almost said no out of habit, but that wouldn’t have helped his façade. The tingling was a nuisance but not painful and passed quickly.
“I’ll help support you,” the doctor said. “Miss Smith, is it? Take his other side. We cannot let him fall or his rib could refracture.”
Daisy stood near the door, watching. Sam wished she were closer and could take Miss Smith’s place. The poor woman looked positively revolted at touching him, odd since she didn’t seem bothered when he was prone in bed. She positioned herself under his arm, and her hands shook.
Mr. Chase stepped forward but hesitated.
“It’s fine,” Sam said. His gut clenched as he stood. The back of his neck burned, his feet protesting his weight, but he ignored them. His knees felt better, though. More substantial than pudding. He straightened and grew dizzy, but he was determined to take a step. He would not stumble about like a new fawn in front of Daisy. He had his pride, even if he had to temper it in this circumstance. He took a hesitant step.
“Good,” Bradley encouraged.
Then another. His body flushed with heat, the muscles in his legs cramping. How was he out of breath already? He took four steps, and then they performed the tricky maneuver of turning and walking him back to the bed.
“Not the bed. A chair,” Sam pleaded. His feet needed to become accustomed to the floor again.
Surprisingly, it was Mr. Chase who reacted immediately and brought a chair from the hearth over.
Daisy followed behind him, smiling at Sam like she was proud, as if he’d accomplished something impressive. It should have bolstered him, but instead he only felt anger. Now he was blushing with embarrassment, and he doubted he looked as adorable as Daisy when he did it.
His undoing was the wariness in Mr. Chase’s face as he watched Sam slowly lower himself into the chair with the help of two people, one being a slight woman.
“That’s enough. I’m not going to fall out of the chair,” Sam grumbled. Was this fate’s way of humbling him? Had he become too arrogant?
“Well, it’s no more than I expected,” Dr. Bradley said. “You are well on your way to recovery, but it will take time.”
“How much time?” Sam asked.
“However long it takes. Rushing could lead to more injury.”
“Take your time, Alston.” Mr. Chase said.
