Never spend time alone with a known rake. He has only one thing on his mind: your seduction and ruin.
—Mrs. Oliver’s Rules for Young Ladies
“Mrs. Smith, you’re perfectly well. No significant blood loss. Just a little knock on the head,” the doctor pronounced after examining Sandrine in a chamber at the Hound and Hare.
Thank God. Dane’s shoulders loosened.
He’d been so frightened when she hit her head. He was supposed to be keeping her safe, damn it, not exposing her to the elements, carriage accidents, and ruin.
He should have personally conveyed her back to Squalton when he’d had the chance. Instead, he’d involved her in his investigation, and look where it had led. Sandrine injured, her face wan, blood in her hair. This was a mistake of his making. He was so afraid that what happened to his brother would happen to Sandrine. He’d never forgive himself. Never.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” The doctor packed up his bag. “Everything is roses and sunshine. Well, perhaps not sunshine with all this unexpected rain.”
“That’s what I keep telling Mr. Smith,” Sandrine said with a brave smile.
“Ah, but young husbands can be overly solicitous, in my experience. Any little scratch or mishap, and they come running to me, quaking in their boots, terrified for their dear, beloved wife.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Dane walked him out and followed him into the hallway, closing the door behind them. “There’s no chance that there could be internal bleeding? My brother had a carriage accident, worse than this, but he walked away, all smiles, then later that evening he collapsed and within two days’ time he was dead.”
The doctor shook his head. “In my opinion there’s absolutely no danger to your wife. It’s only a bruise. She’ll have some swelling and discoloration but no chance of anything more serious.”
“Are you sure?”
“One can never be absolutely sure. You saw the accident happen. Was the blow to her head forceful?”
“She slid slowly toward the door, and I don’t think the impact was harsh.”
“Precisely what I would have guessed. You really don’t need to trouble yourself, Mr. Smith. Your wife only sustained a very minor injury. She’ll have a small bruise, nothing more.”
Dane clasped the doctor’s hand. “I’m so relieved. Thank you so much, Doctor.”
“Give her a small glass of hot wine and tuck her into bed. A little rest, and she’ll be fully restored.”
Dane paid his fee and returned to the room, nearly giddy with relief.
“Dane? I’m hungry.”
Dane realized he was ravenous as well. “I’ll go see about a meal.”
The innkeeper was happy to provide a hot meal and mulled wine, but when Dane asked whether the roads were passable now, he shook his head. “This rain has settled in for the night. I just had two more customers who turned back from road. I think you and the missus are here for the night. I’ll have the meal and more hot water and towels sent up.”
Sandrine was dozing when he returned. She looked so vulnerable in the bed, so young and innocent. She was the one who’d told the innkeeper that they were married when they came to make inquiries. There’d been no time to explain that they wanted separate rooms. He’d carried her up the stairs, anguished and fearful for her safety.
“Sandrine.”
Her eyes fluttered open.
“I have some very bad news.”
“There’s no food to be had?”
“It’s not that. It’s the roads. The innkeeper says he’s already had several more guests who turned back because the road to London is still impassable. We’re going to have to stay here tonight. Your reputation could be ruined.”
“I’m not a London debutante jealously guarding her reputation.”
“But if Mrs. McGovern learns you spent the night with me...”
“She won’t. She thinks I’m with her niece. She and Miss Hodwell were going out to the theater. They always retire early. If we can make it back tomorrow morning, all will be well. You can take me to Francesca’s house, and I’ll sneak in before anyone is awake. At least we’re not stuck in the curricle for the night. We have a nice comfortable bed, a fire in the grate, and a hot meal on the way.”
