It was only when they turned and took in the room did they ask what had happened. Claxton quickly explained that Damaris tried to stab him, even though he truly did not believe that was the case and knew that it was an accident. Deborah then quickly explained about his knee because apparently it was not obvious that he suffered an injury as well.
“I had not realized house parties could be so dangerous. It is good that no further outdoor activities have been planned.” Wingate smiled.
“I see no reason why we cannot decorate while we wait for the doctor,” Wingate’s wife announced. That was all it took for everyone to tie evergreens, ivy and rosemary together with ribbons and place them around the parlor, the entry, the drawing room and dining room. Not that Percy could see everything being done, but he was told and could hear.
Tilson clipped mistletoe at a table and Deborah tied the ends with gay ribbons before Wingate affixed it at the top of every doorway.
Spices of cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg along with citrus filled the room when a bowl of wassail was delivered, to which Wingate added a good deal of brandy.
Several times Deborah asked if his knee still pained him and if she could get him anything, and Percy enjoyed the attention. He might have even enjoyed it more if she hadn’t been standing beside Tilson putting together mistletoe to hang throughout the house. Was Tilson planning on finding Deborah beneath one of those sprigs?
Still, she was first to retrieve a cup of wassail and bring it to him, then retrieved her own before she settled beside him on the settee.
“You are being kind when all you did yesterday was run away from me,” he commented quietly.
“I shall not abandon you in your injured state just as you did not abandon me.”
He had hoped that Deborah wanted to be by his side simply to be there and not because she was obligated.
Percy did not question her further but enjoyed having her there as he sipped the spicy hot beverage and listened to the conversations around them until the doctor finally arrived.
He first saw to Claxton’s hand, which did need four stitches, then examined Percy’s knee in the library behind closed doors because Percy dreaded climbing the stairs to his chamber since it had been difficult enough to limp across the room. His knee had grown stiff and difficult to move. And the reason he needed privacy was because he needed to remove his trousers so that the knee could be examined.
Percy groaned when he noted the slight swelling about the knee and the deep red in the center fading to darkening purple around the edges. He could just imagine what the bruise may look like on the morrow since he recalled the various shades and changes from red to dark purple before there were greens, browns and yellows in his face after the beating he had taken from Peter. But at least this bruise would be covered, and he would not need to hide away from everyone until it was healed because he had not wanted to explain. It was bad enough that he endured looks from the patrons during the two days that he had remained at the inn before he returned to Deborah’s home. Once he was in London, he was not home to anyone until the injuries had healed Well, except for Tilson, who had come to call just as he had arrived on his doorstep. He had been the only friend or acquaintance who had seen him in that state, and he never did explain to his friend why his eye was still blackened and partially swollen or where the healing cut on his lip or bruising of his nose and jaw had come from.
“How long before I can walk without pain again?”
The doctor gently touched the top of his knee, causing him to wince from discomfort.
“It is not fractured but likely deeply contused, given your description of how the injury took place.”
Percy didn’t need a doctor to tell him that his knee was bruised. “That is not an answer to my question.”
“Your knee will likely remain stiff and painful for a sennight.”
That was too long to be immobile. He needed to be free to court Deborah and if she returned to avoiding him, as she had that first day, by walking away from him, there would be little he could do. Yes, he would follow, but he’d be at a much slower pace and likely not able to catch up to her.
Then there was Tilson who would be more than happy to escort her about.
“If you have a cane or crutch, you could move about, but not far and not for long.”
At least he would not be confined to one place as Deborah had been when she had fractured her ankle.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Percy said as he finished dressing, then returned to the parlor where everyone waited.
“Is it fractured?” Deborah asked anxiously.
“Contused,” the doctor answered with a bit of humor before he arched an eyebrow at Percy. “He should avoid walking as much as possible.”
As the doctor accepted his greatcoat from the footman and bid everyone a Happy Christmas, Percy limped back to his place on the settee and lowered himself down, glad to finally be off his leg again only to note that Deborah had left them.
Was her concern only contingent on whether he suffered a fracture?
Twelve
Oh, she hated that Percy was injured, but at least it was not serious. Still, she remembered how it was to be stuck while everyone could move about as they pleased and it was the very reason she would not abandon Percy.
What Percy needed was a cane.
