“Octavian! What are you doing?” Had they not attracted enough attention? “Put me down! I am not helpless. I can walk.”
“You are barefoot and probably have cuts on your feet, as well.” He ignored her and told one of the maids to grab the unopened bottle of whiskey the innkeeper had set on the table beside them. He then ordered her to follow him up to their chamber. “Make certain my wife tends to her wounds before she returns down here.”
“They are tiny scratches,” Syd muttered.
“They arecutsthat drew blood and need to be properly cleaned out,” he said with a low growl to mark his frustration over the situation. He turned once more to the maid. “My wife is stubborn. Keep a sharp eye on her and make certain she takes care of herself properly.”
“Yes, Captain Thorne,” the girl said, bobbing a curtsy.
Syd knew she looked a fright.
The proprietor was not going to let her near his son.
So she did not make a fuss.
Once in her chamber, she set to work cleaning her hands and feet quite thoroughly, placing the whiskey on each scratch and cut, and repeating the process again before she donned her gown and slippers.
The maid assisted her with the fastenings of her gown and then helped her pin her hair in a simple bun at the nape of her neck. “It ain’t anything fancy, m’lady.”
“Moira, it is perfect. Thank you. Let’s join the men.”
The shy girl nodded and followed her out. “You were very brave, m’lady.”
Syd shook her head. “I was scared out of my wits. But I did my best to hold myself together and find a way to escape. I should have been more careful. I thought it was my husband knocking at the door, so I did not think twice before I let him in.”
“Ye weren’t to know it was that devil.”
Syd nodded. “Mr. Douglas’s boy is most important now, that is my greatest concern.”
“Och, aye. We are all worried about him. He looked lifeless as his brother carried him in.”
Syd gasped. “Then I must go to them at once.”
She hurried to the innkeeper’s private quarters, eager to look upon the injured lad and do anything she could to help. “Mrs. Douglas, how is he?”
The innkeeper’s wife cast her a kindly smile. “He’ll recover. He has a small lump on his head and will no doubt have a headache for the next few days, but I have him resting comfortably now. Come, look for yourself.”
Syd did, but she cast one look at him and frowned. “He also has marks around his neck. Dear heaven! Did Sir Henry attempt to strangle him?”
The woman nodded, hastily wiping a tear from her eye. “But my eldest boy must have interrupted them when he walked into the stable and called out for him. Thank the Good Lord. As he spotted his brother and knelt to take care of him, the villain must have run off to go after you next. My eldest did not realize something foul was afoot at the time. He thought his brother had fallen and bumped his head. My husband realized what must have happened when you came into the common room in hysterics.”
Syd nodded, although she did not think she had been in the least hysterical. Yes, she looked like a mad woman living in a swamp, but…well, it did not matter now. “Any nosebleed? Bleeding from the ears?”
“No, Mrs. Thorne.”
“Good. May I check his eyes?” At the woman’s nod she raised a finger and asked the boy, who was thankfully conscious now, to follow her finger as she moved it around. He seemed to doit without much difficulty. “You’re a very brave fellow,” she said kindly. “What’s your name?”
“Matthew,” the boy replied with a promptness that eased her mind. One of the ways to determine the severity of a blow to the head was to test someone’s acuity. The lad’s eyes were clear, he knew his name, and now engaged her in conversation without a hint of slurred speech or confusion. “Matthew, you’ll need to rest for several days.”
The boy grinned and glanced at his mother. “I can do that. Right?”
His mother chuckled. “Yes, my love. We’ll take good care of you.”
When Syd was ready to join the men in the common room, Mrs. Douglas walked her out. “I’ll sit up with him tonight and tomorrow as well,” she assured Syd. “It is plain to see ye’ve done a bit of healing, as well.”
Syd nodded. “Although it is not appreciated in London as it seems to be here. I am more often ridiculed than welcomed.”
“Our menfolk are about as stubborn as they come, but they are also very practical. Anyone with a useful talent is accepted and appreciated.”
