Page 61 of Courting the Country Miss

Leticia raced to the bed to lean over Tristan. He lay unmoving, his chest still rising and falling. Her relief hit her so hard that she had to sit down.

“He still lives.” She let out a half sob of relief. Why was Elizabeth weeping?

Elizabeth lifted her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you still hated me for taking Richard from you. I thought you were over him. I am so sorry.”

Leticia closed her eyes as remorse flooded her. She’d been thoughtless and cruel and had lashed out at a dear friend. “No, Elizabeth, I’m sorry. I don’t hate you. Not at all. I never did. And I am over Richard.”

Again, the truth of her words hit her. She no longer loved Richard, not as she once did. Seeing him and Elizabeth console each other no longer caused her pain. Running into him in the corridor failed to set her heart racing, only vague sense of impropriety over his dishabille. No longing or aching. No sorrow. No regret. He was familiar and dear, but like a brother rather than a man she once planned to marry. The knowledge cleansed her, healed her.

She took her friend’s hand. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. I’m worried about Tristan and angry that I didn’t get there soon enough to stop the race. I’m furious at him for being so reckless and foolish. A man was killed today, and four horses—it was awful. I can’t get it out of my mind. And now Tristan is…” She gestured to him. “Forgive me for lashing out at you. I need him to be all right.” Her throat closed over and tears ran down her cheeks.

Elizabeth put an arm around her. “Of course I forgive you. You are my very dearest friend.”

They sat together, letting their shared sorrow cleanse them of hurt. Richard came in. He leaned over Tristan and watched him for a moment. Elizabeth slipped a hand into his and he squeezed it, then took a chair near the bed where he sat staring. Night fell. A maid came in and lit the lamps.

As Leticia watched Tristan’s face, his eyelashes moved. She straightened. His eyes squeezed more tightly closed, then he blinked. She held her breath. He opened his eyes, blinked several times, and squinted up at the ceiling.

She leaned over him. “Tristan?”

His eyes slid to hers and he looked at her without moving his head. “Tish?” He blinked again. “Did you hit me over the head again? With a brick?”

His speech slurred, but at least he spoke. What a beautiful sound! She wanted to shout huzzah!. She settled for enjoying the warmth and gratitude that flowed over her like bathwater.

Elizabeth clasped her hands together. Richard leaped to his feet and dashed to the bed. “About time you woke up. Get better fast because I’m going to thrash you.”

“What did I do now?” Still squinting, Tristan pulled his hand out of the covers and put it to his head. “My head…”

Leticia tried not to notice his bare arm and shoulder, how beautifully formed, how the sight sent strange warmth to her face.

Richard scowled at his brother. “You raced a curricle, you idiot.”

Leticia poured a glass of water and cradled Tristan’s head so he could drink. A few drops ran out of the corner of his mouth and she wiped it dry.

Tristan moaned. “Why are you so angry? The race was weeks ago and I won. Palmer was furious.”

“You’ve curricle raced more than once?” Richard demanded. He let out his breath in disgust.

“Stop shouting.” Tristan put his hands over his eyes and moaned again.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’d take up such a dangerous pastime,” Richard grumbled. He drew a breath and softened his voice. “Do you remember the race today?”

“Today?” Tristan squinted. “Who won?”

Leticia touched his shoulder. “You and the other driver, someone named Appleton, were in an accident.”

“Appleton?” Tristan scowled. “He doesn’t have a curricle.”

“He had a new one. You don’t remember what happened today at all?”

He rubbed his head, sucking in his breath when his fingers touched the lump on his forehead. “I remember moving things in the school. Later, I paid you a call. You were with Bradbury, and your aunt sang his praises. I don’t remember leaving her house.” He closed his eyes. “My head hurts.”

Leticia measured a small amount of laudanum into a glass. “This will help with the pain.”

He tried to sit up but had no strength. She held his head and pressed the glass to his lips.

After drinking, he winced as the back of his head touched the pillow. “Accident? Was anyone hurt?”

Richard gripped his shoulder. “Appleton.” He swallowed. “He didn’t make it.”