He gave a groaning laugh. “I’m fine.”
She smiled at him.
“Areyouall right?”
“Yes, now that the doctor has taken care of you. Sebastian and I will help you into bed, and then I’ll order some broth with marrow brought up for you. It is good for restoring your blood. You’ve lost quite a bit of it. Mrs. Palmer has beef stock already made for tomorrow’s menu. It will do you good to have some now.”
Who knew that Florence had any nurturing in her? He liked that she was fussing over him.
But what a week this had been, and it was only halfway done. Betrothed, threatened, and shot, when all he had meant to do that first day was take a morning walk. He should have walked in the opposite direction.
Well, no. That would have been disastrous. He would have found Florence dead in his woods because the girl did not know how to lie her way out of any situation. Frampton would have confronted her and killed her.
He shook out of the thought and concentrated instead on the splendid kiss they had shared on the beach. That kiss made up for all the turmoil that had ensued…almost.
There was no rest to be had until Florence was safe.
But would she ever be safe while Frampton walked free and his evil doings were not exposed?
Trajan had to give this serious thought. Frampton had to be stopped.
What were they to do next? And how could he think straight when Florence was staring at him with big, soft eyes?
“Your Grace,” the doctor said, regaining his attention and proceeding to instruct him on the care of his wound.
Florence and Sebastian were listening attentively, too. Good, because Trajan realized those instructions were going in one ear and out the other. He was not at his best right now and could not seem to hold anything in his brain.
“How many stitches in all?” Sebastian asked.
“Twenty,” the doctor said, surprising Trajan, for he did not realize the wound had necessitated that many. Well, he had been stubbornly ignoring his injury while off chasing that assailant.
Florence was tearing up again.
“I forbid you to cry,” he told her in a soft and loving growl.
She laughed as she nodded and her tears still fell.
“The wound is clean,” the doctor assured him, “and you should make a full recovery within a few days. Get a good night’s rest, Your Grace. Take it easy tomorrow. Cancel anything strenuous. No morning ride, no lifting anything heavier than a teapot. No driving a rig. You have plenty of staff who can help you with anything you require. If you must leave home, then have someone drive you wherever you need to go. Although I would urge you to remain in bed all day tomorrow.”
Trajan nodded. “I’ve nothing urgent. I’ll do as you suggest.”
He hated to lie to the doctor, but could not risk his travel plans being reported to Frampton.
He cast Florence and Sebatian warning looks as he began to embellish. “I had planned to take Miss Newton and her aunt on a tour of Weymouth, perhaps a picnic and a fossil hunt, but this can wait for another day.”
“Yes, put it off for a day or two. Summon me at once if you develop a fever.”
Florence frowned. “Is it likely?”
“No, I believe His Grace’s wound has been thoroughly cleansed. But this happens sometimes.”
“I’ll be fine,” Trajan insisted.
Florence was still frowning. “I understand. Just do not be stubborn or needlessly heroic. Your healing is more important than anything to me.”
“Give me a kiss, Florence. You’re the best medicine any man can have.”
She blushed. Sebastian and the doctor chuckled.
