A Spinster to Heal the Duke

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

" M ake yourself at home," Anne said, rolling her eyes behind the Duke's back.

She looked at Charles, but he only glanced at her and shrugged his head. They both walked quickly to keep pace with their guest's stride. Despite his injury, the Duke of Grandon moved intentionally and swiftly.

"The parlor is ahead to your left," Charles instructed.

He and Anne each reached to clasp the Duke's arms to support him as he moved and to guide him in the right direction. At first, His Grace seemed to prefer to shake them off, but when his injured leg nearly caused him to fall, he was more accepting of their assistance.

"There is a sofa that faces the door you may sit on. I will place pillows on the far end to support your leg then I will gather the necessary materials to treat your wound. As I do, you can regale us with the tale of your injury and arrival at our doorstep," Anne said.

"Brandy first," His Grace stated, entering the parlor.

He sat with a low groan and gestured for Charles to pull the nearby ottoman closer.

"I require assistance removing my boot," he directed, placing his foot on the ottoman when Charles was upright again.

Charles looked at Anne. She shrugged then gestured with her head that he should be the one to assist His Grace.

"Charles, while you remove his boot, I will fetch the materials for his wound," she declared.

Anne hurried down the hall and she returned to the parlor with a tray holding a decanter of brandy and a glass. Charles was talking, presumably to manage his nerves.

"I'm Charles Drowton, and you met my sister, Anne," he was saying as she returned to the room. "You might know of our grandfather, Jeremy Drowton, the Baron of Reedley."

Charles paused and looked at the Duke, but there was no evidence of recognition or interest in his eyes. He only frowned at his foot as Charles struggled trying to remove his boot without causing further distress.

"Ah!" the Duke exclaimed as Charles tumbled back when he finally freed His Grace's foot from its covering.

Timidly, Charles stepped back and said, "Welcome to Reedley Manor."

"Indeed," the Duke replied flatly.

"Your Grace," Anne said, as she poured and offered a glass to the large man who made their sitting room seem half its usual size.

He downed the beverage in one large swallow then demanded, "Another glass, please."

At least he said please this time, Anne thought to herself. Clearly that's not a word he's had to use much. Commands and demands seem to be his way, but dictation can still be given with courtesy.

She refrained from sighing and poured another glass. She filled it a little closer to the rim this time.

"I thought you instructed the maid to bring dressings for my wound?" the Duke asked.

"No, I said I would retrieve them. You requested the brandy first," Anne replied, handing the gentleman the refilled glass and serving him a firm look as well.

"He probably wanted to start numbing the pain to prepare for the injury to be treated. I know if I were hurt as badly as you, I might mishear a thing or two," Charles said, hoping to ease the heated look his sister and their guest shared.

"Well, I can pour another myself, should I need it. Fetch the dressings. I believe we will have to cut my trousers below the knee. They're torn to shreds at the calf anyway," he acknowledged, shifting his attention to his lower left leg.

Anne looked at Charles, but neither of them said anything. She rushed out of the room once more and returned with a second tray. This time, it held a bowl of water, a few small towels, and cloth bandages to bind his wound after she inspected and cleansed it.

"Charles, please gently lift His Grace's leg so that I may put a towel beneath it. Then, bring one of the chairs from the card table for me to sit in while I work," Anne ordered, taking control of the situation.

The Duke finished the last of his second glass of brandy to manage the pain of his leg being repositioned and looked toward the decanter.

"Are you deciding whether you would like another?" Anne asked.

"The pain was bad enough when my leg was resting, but I was acutely aware of the placement of every finger as he adjusted my leg. In case your handling of me is just as delicate, one more seems necessary to make matters tolerable," the Duke replied.

"Then, let me offer you one more and give you a moment to settle yourself before we begin," Anne said, doing her best to speak in a calm and balanced tone.

She prepared one more full glass and gave it to His Grace. He sipped it quickly then he closed his eyes tightly and laid his head back a moment.

A minute later, he opened his eyes and said, "I'm ready."

"Very well," replied Anne. "As you said, first I will cut the remaining material away to have a better look at your leg. I will do my best to be gentle."

Touching His Grace as little and as lightly as possible, Anne snipped the fabric away. Rather than move his leg for her convenience, she changed positions and angled awkwardly for his ease. She softened only a little as she looked at the wound when it was fully exposed. There were multiple gashes that were several inches long and deep enough that Anne could lay a finger in them. Hearing him suck in his breath a little, she reminded herself to be more tolerant of the Duke.

Given the state of his leg, what he must have gone through to get to the house, and the anticipation of what I'm about to put him through, I imagine it would be hard to behave as a gentleman,. but if his manner doesn't improve after so many glasses of brandy, he shall not remain here long, injury or no."

"That looks worse than I thought," Charles acknowledged loudly, stepping near for a closer look.

Then, he grimaced and stepped back again.

"That is not helpful, Charles," Anne said.

"Thank you for that," His Grace replied at nearly the same time.

"Sorry," Charles said, lowering his head to avoid the gaze of either of them.

There was silence for a moment.

"To distract yourself, this would be an opportune time to tell us about how this happened," Anne suggested.

She looked at the Duke as she soaked one of the smaller towels and rang it out with her hands. He took a deep breath and released it as she placed it on his leg. She could tell it caused him pain but also relief.

"I have been traveling the county on business. I try to spend as little time away from the manor in London as possible, so I allow the driver to rest during the day, so we can travel at night. We move from one appointment to the next quickly, but I suppose I put too much burden on my driver or the horses in the last several days," His Grace said, staring down into his empty glass. "I don't know if the driver fell asleep or if the horses lost their footing, but our carriage crashed."

"That's terrible," Anne said.

For the first time, she registered something new in the Duke's countenance, but she couldn't place the emotion.

"Yes, when I tried to assist the driver, the broken wheel and axle fully disconnected and ricocheted back at us. I put my leg out to prevent it from hitting his face as he had stooped to lift from a lower position," he explained.

"And the darned thing did all that to you?" Charles asked in astonishment.

"Yes, but the driver was unscathed beyond a few bumps from the initial mishap. He helped me onto the horse and led it to the nearest home with a light on. Once he helped me to the porch, I commanded he return to my sister in London to notify her of the situation," the Duke explained, completing his tale.

Anne had listened quietly, working as His Grace spoke. She had gently removed broken wood and a small piece of metal from his calf as she cleaned the dirt.

She cleared her throat and said, "I have bound your leg tight, but we will send for the doctor in the morning. At least two of your wounds will have a smaller scar if you have stitches, but it's better to let the doctor decide and sew them himself. For now, the wounds are clean and dressed. I think you will recover well either way with a little care and rest."

"Excellent," the Duke replied.

"Yes," she agreed. "Now that that is settled, I will prepare something for you to eat. I'm sure you are hungry."

"That is not necessary," His Grace said, declining Anne's offer.

"I insist. Beyond this injury, though you are tall and I'm sure quite rugged, you look like your travels have left you skimping on proper meals. You will recover better if you are well-fed."

"No, thank you," he insisted. "It's very late, and I'm tired. Direct me to a guest room, and I won't disturb you any further."

Anne opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut again when Charles spoke first.

"Grandfather is already asleep, so we can put you in a room near him, so you won't be disturbed," Charles recommended.

"This way," Anne said, hurrying to lead His Grace upstairs before he could attempt to guide himself as he had when he first arrived.

Without argument, the Duke followed Anne. Charles followed the Duke. At the top of the stairs, Anne led the way to a room across the hall from their grandfather.

"This will be your room during your stay," she said opening the door and presenting a lovely room trimmed in green with a writing desk, a large armoire, and a settee.

His Grace hardly looked over the room before going to the bed.

"Send a valet or footman to assist me in preparing for bed," he requested, working his remaining boot off himself. "See that my other boot is returned to me as well."

"Your boots will both be here by the time you wake in the morning, but there is no one to help prepare you for bed," Anne declared.

"What?" the Duke asked, believing he had misheard. "If they are sleeping, rouse them."

"They are not sleeping," Anne said, matching the Duke's tone. "We do not have a valet or footman to send. You will have to see to yourself."

She did not wait for a response.

As Anne left the room, she added, "Charles will have the physician here for you first thing in the morning. Goodnight, Your Grace."

The Duke was still perplexed and hardly noticed Charles bidding him goodnight and excusing himself as well.

Down the hall, Anne observed, "You could have helped him."

"No, after removing his boot, it was clear I helped enough," Charles said, adding a small laugh at his own expense. "Furthermore, I could tell he had you rightly soured, so I didn't want to assist him too much and have you be curt with me as well."

"I was not curt," Anne insisted as she continued down the hall to where their rooms were.

"You were right sodded," Charles argued loudly. Catching himself, he whispered, "Oops, but you were."

"No," Anne said, shaking her head and wondering if she had mistreated the Duke in some way. "If anything, he was rude to us, acting so entitled and better than. I have a low tolerance for that.

"True, but what you couldn't stand most was him turning down your food," Charles teased.

Anne made a face and looked at her brother.

"That's not true," she said, her voice rising.

"It is. That reddened your face more than any other impropriety of the night," Charles replied, laughing and teasing his sister openly now.

"Go to bed, Charles," Anne said, shoving her brother and going to her bedroom.