He always was one to charm the ladies.
***
Laurel kept a hand on each of Lord Moray’s shoulders to hold him up because his big body was still heaving even though he did not appear to have anything left inside him to come out. “Perfect,” he finally muttered, and sank back against her, too dazed to notice he was leaning against her and not a tree or the ground.
“Do what you must, Dr. Farthingale,” he said, lightly rolling his Rs in the way Scotsmen did. However, it wasn’t a heavy brogue, but one mingled with English refinement, as though he’d spent time in both worlds.
He appeared the sort who moved about easily in both worlds, for there was a quiet confidence about him, even though he wasn’t at his best just now. All her fault.
Uncle George began to quietly explain what he needed to do to mend his broken leg. “Once properly set, I’ll fashion a splint around it. Then we’ll help you into Lady Dayne’s house.”
“Graelem, it’s best you stay with me until you recover,” Eloise said, wringing her hands in obvious concern. “You’ll need looking after for the next few weeks.”
Lord Moray closed his eyes a moment and nodded. “I had planned to stay at Gabriel’s townhouse, but I arrived late last night and haven’t bothered to unpack yet. Will you send word to his butler to bring my belongings here?”
“At once.” Eloise appeared relieved. “Gabriel’s is a big, empty house anyway. What with him gone off again to who knows where on his latest misadventure—” She broke off, suddenly tense. “No matter. It’s settled. You’ll stay here.”
Lord Moray turned toward her uncle. “Go ahead, Dr. Farthingale. Do what you must. Bloody thing hurts like blazes.”
Uncle George cast her a light frown. “Hold him down, Laurel. This will only take a moment.”
Since Lord Moray was still leaning against her, she merely kept her hands wrapped around his shoulders and prayed he wouldn’t be too much to manage. He was far too big and muscled for her to restrain against his will. “Hold my hands, my lord. I think it will help.”
He ignored the suggestion at first. However, as her uncle worked on his leg and the pain appeared to become unbearable, he finally complied. His hands felt warm on hers, and she realized she was still shivering with fear... and guilt.
She might have killed the man!
Her heart broke with each twinge of his body. He refused to cry out despite the excruciating pain he must have felt, and she suspected he was purposely trying to spare her feelings. Of course, he couldn’t hide the sudden shift of his muscles at every tug and agonizing twist.
“I’m almost done, Laurel,” her uncle assured, sparing a glance to smile at her. A mirthless smile, for he was disappointed in her behavior, and the tension in his expression showed it.
She was relieved of the need to say anything when her youngest sisters bolted out of the house and stopped beside her to gawk. “Crumpets! Who is he?” Lily asked, while the other twin, Dillie, edged closer to his prone body, for he’d closed his eyes again and appeared to be resting. Or passed out.
The twins shrieked and drew back when he opened one eye. “Who are you?” he shot back.
Laurel quickly introduced them and then explained to her sisters what had happened. “Eloise knows. She’s preparing her guest quarters for his recovery.”
Dillie cast him a wry glance. “Welcome to London, Lord Moray.”
To Laurel’s surprise, he laughed lightly. “Not quite the welcome I had in mind, Dillie.”
“But one you’ll never forget, I’ll wager. I hear you’re Eloise’s favorite grandson.”
Laurel groaned. “Yes, Dillie. He is.” Which made what she did all the worse.
“Because if I were going to trample someone—”
“The point is, I shouldn’t have hurt anyone,” Laurel said.
“That goes without saying,” Lily chimed in.
Laurel rolled her eyes. “Stop gawking at him.”
However, she saw that Lord Moray was curious about the twins as well, for they were identical and impossible to tell apart. Though only fifteen, they were quite clever for their tender years... usually. Closest in age to her was Daisy. She was almost eighteen, and as the middle sister among the five of them, she was always the one to keep the peace.
Where was Daisy when she needed her?
“You’re awfully big,” Lily said, stating the obvious as she addressed Lord Moray once again. “You won’t be easy to carry into Lady Dayne’s townhouse, much less up the stairs. But perhaps if you shift your weight and—”
Dillie poked his shoulder. “I agree. You’re all muscle.” She cast Laurel an impish grin. “But I suppose you noticed that.”