allowed her mother to come to harm because of her selfishness in insisting on going to a silly masquerade, a thing that mattered naught when compared to her mother's life and health. Truly, she should not wait, but accept the duke's proposal as soon as she could. Her stomach tightened at the thought, but she made herself relax and focused her attention upon her mother again.
Annabella put another cold cloth upon the bump on her mother's head and rubbed her mother's hands. "Oh, please, please, Mama, be well," she whispered.
A knock sounded on the door, and a maid, accompanied by the doctor entered. Annabella made room for the portly man, Doctor Robinson, who examined the bump upon Lady Smith's head, and examined her limbs for any sprains or breaks. A slight moan issued from Lady Smith's lips as he examined her, and she opened her eyes.
"Annabella?" Her voice was a whisper.
Her daughter rushed to her and clasped her hand. "Mama, I am here."
Lady Smith smiled. "Sweet child. I remember..." A painful frown creased her brow.
Doctor Robinson leaned toward her. "My lady, you remember?" he prompted.
"The man, he pushed me, he thought I was—" Her eyes became wild and frightened, and she held Annabella's hand tightly. "He wanted to harm you, love. We must leave here."
The doctor raised his grizzled eyebrows and turned to Annabella. "Is this true?"
She nodded. "Yes, I saw it, from a distance. I would not have, had not the Cavalier—a gentleman dressed as a Cavalier—gone to her rescue. He frightened the man away and brought my mother here."
"Most irregular." The doctor frowned. "Lord Grafton will need to be notified—or better, Mr. Wentworth. He knows the estate better than anyone, and that lad's a sight more dependable, no disrespect meant to his lordship, mind you. However, it is good that my lady's faculties seem to be in order—no loss of memory."
"How soon can we go home?" Annabella asked.
"In two weeks, perhaps more." He gently propped her mother up in the bed and gave her a draught of medicine.
"Two weeks ... ?" she faltered.
"Quite. Her concussion is bad, though not severe. But her ankle may have suffered a slight fracture or a sprain—I cannot tell precisely until the swelling has gone down—and will take quite a while to mend before she can stand on it again. She will be too dizzy to be moved, and must stay prone for at least a week at the start."
"Oh, no! We cannot impose—we must go home—"
The doctor gave her a kindly look. "I am sorry, but that is not possible if your mother is to be well." He turned to the maid and requested that she call Mr. Wentworth, then held up his hand when Annabella opened her mouth to protest. "I know, it is late. But someone in this household should know my opinion of your mother's condition, and I have found Master Parsifal to be a young man of good sense and much understanding. He already knows your mother was hurt, for it was he who told me of it when I arrived—I imagine that Cavalier fellow of yours must have told him."
It was not long before Mr. Wentworth entered, looking rumpled and sleepy-eyed. It was clear he had been roused from his bed. Annabella blushed, feeling more miserable than ever. She not only caused her mother to be hurt, but she was now inconveniencing her hosts, as well.
She watched as the doctor explained his diagnosis to Mr. Wentworth, who listened intently and nodded his head. She saw him glance at her, and she looked hastily away. It was necessary that her mother not be moved so that she could be cared for, but Annabella did not like to be beholden to anyone, and she felt horribly awkward because of it.
Finally, the doctor left, leaving instructions for the tincture of arnica and the other remedies he had left behind. She heard the door close, and she returned to the chair beside her mother, who was asleep, this time from the medicine the doctor had given her. A soft footstep behind her made her look up—it was Mr. Wentworth, his face
Annabella put another cold cloth upon the bump on her mother's head and rubbed her mother's hands. "Oh, please, please, Mama, be well," she whispered.
A knock sounded on the door, and a maid, accompanied by the doctor entered. Annabella made room for the portly man, Doctor Robinson, who examined the bump upon Lady Smith's head, and examined her limbs for any sprains or breaks. A slight moan issued from Lady Smith's lips as he examined her, and she opened her eyes.
"Annabella?" Her voice was a whisper.
Her daughter rushed to her and clasped her hand. "Mama, I am here."
Lady Smith smiled. "Sweet child. I remember..." A painful frown creased her brow.
Doctor Robinson leaned toward her. "My lady, you remember?" he prompted.
"The man, he pushed me, he thought I was—" Her eyes became wild and frightened, and she held Annabella's hand tightly. "He wanted to harm you, love. We must leave here."
The doctor raised his grizzled eyebrows and turned to Annabella. "Is this true?"
She nodded. "Yes, I saw it, from a distance. I would not have, had not the Cavalier—a gentleman dressed as a Cavalier—gone to her rescue. He frightened the man away and brought my mother here."
"Most irregular." The doctor frowned. "Lord Grafton will need to be notified—or better, Mr. Wentworth. He knows the estate better than anyone, and that lad's a sight more dependable, no disrespect meant to his lordship, mind you. However, it is good that my lady's faculties seem to be in order—no loss of memory."
"How soon can we go home?" Annabella asked.
"In two weeks, perhaps more." He gently propped her mother up in the bed and gave her a draught of medicine.
"Two weeks ... ?" she faltered.
"Quite. Her concussion is bad, though not severe. But her ankle may have suffered a slight fracture or a sprain—I cannot tell precisely until the swelling has gone down—and will take quite a while to mend before she can stand on it again. She will be too dizzy to be moved, and must stay prone for at least a week at the start."
"Oh, no! We cannot impose—we must go home—"
The doctor gave her a kindly look. "I am sorry, but that is not possible if your mother is to be well." He turned to the maid and requested that she call Mr. Wentworth, then held up his hand when Annabella opened her mouth to protest. "I know, it is late. But someone in this household should know my opinion of your mother's condition, and I have found Master Parsifal to be a young man of good sense and much understanding. He already knows your mother was hurt, for it was he who told me of it when I arrived—I imagine that Cavalier fellow of yours must have told him."
It was not long before Mr. Wentworth entered, looking rumpled and sleepy-eyed. It was clear he had been roused from his bed. Annabella blushed, feeling more miserable than ever. She not only caused her mother to be hurt, but she was now inconveniencing her hosts, as well.
She watched as the doctor explained his diagnosis to Mr. Wentworth, who listened intently and nodded his head. She saw him glance at her, and she looked hastily away. It was necessary that her mother not be moved so that she could be cared for, but Annabella did not like to be beholden to anyone, and she felt horribly awkward because of it.
Finally, the doctor left, leaving instructions for the tincture of arnica and the other remedies he had left behind. She heard the door close, and she returned to the chair beside her mother, who was asleep, this time from the medicine the doctor had given her. A soft footstep behind her made her look up—it was Mr. Wentworth, his face
Similar Books
