The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(225)

"Better?" she asked softly.



"Mmm."



She continued to work on his hands in silence for a time longer, before putting her warm palms on his frozen face.



"Did you find the other two men?" Arabella inquired after a time.



"James the postillion is still alive," he rasped, the cold and his own trembling making his voice hoarse.



She held him closer now, continuing to cradle him against her body and the water bottle until at last his shivering subsided.



Then she handed him a bottle of ginger beer, and said, "Drink. There's also brandy."



"Alcohol only makes you feel warm temporarily. It's actually one of the worst things you can take for the cold," he told Belle.



She nodded and helped him hold the bottle to his lips. Some of it ran down his shivering chin. She took her handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed him dry. Again, the gesture was so intimate that he had all to do not to pull her to him and kiss her.



He was acutely aware of her body even through the thick wool of her navy blue gown and the yards of petticoats he could feel underneath.



Thank goodness she had dressed well for the weather. Her gown was damp in places, he could feel, but she did not seem to be suffering unduly from the cold. But the sooner they got out of there and into his coach and he made a fire, the better off they would all be.



Now she opened his medical bag and took out some scissors. She lifted her skirts unceremoniously. He nearly fainted with desire as he saw her ankles and calves while she started to cut a yard off the bottom of the flannel. She dropped her hem back over her neat practical half boots and began to cut them into six-inch strips. She gathered some of his shirts as well, and then waited patiently for him to give her instructions.



"How are you now?" she asked.



"Better. Warmer. I think I'm ready."



"What do you want me to do?"



"We'll do the leg first. You need to hold his thigh steady, like so. I'm sorry about this," he said softly. "A young lady shouldn't--"



"It's all right. I want to help," she said, gazing at him steadily.



His mouth went dry with need but he forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. "All right. Grasp it firmly, and I'm going to tug to set the bone."



"Like this?"



Blake could not help smiling slightly. "Yes, exactly. But your hands are so tiny."



"I'm stronger than I look. Besides, they warmed yours, didn't they?"



"They most certainly did. Thank you."



"Thank you for coming along and stopping to help us. We'd have died for certain by now if it hadn't been for you."



"Thank me later, Belle, when we're sitting around a nice warm fire. For now, get both hands in a good strong grip."



She nodded. "Ready."



He pulled the leg hard and she heard a small clicking sound. "I'll hold the branches. Use one of the shirts as a wadding around the leg, and start to wind the strips around and tie them off. I'll pick up the leg to help you get around when you wrap."



"All right, but tell me if I've done it correctly."



"Good. Very good," he praised sincerely. "You must have nursed people before."



"Mother and Father, yes," Arabella said, trying not to sniff.



He caught her sad look, however, and said simply, "I'm sorry."



"Thank you."



"Someone taught you well."



"My brother. He has many professional friends, doctors, lawyers, soldiers..."



Blake was only half-listening to her, all of his mind occupied on not falling asleep, and what he was going to do if he had to spend the night in his carriage with three injured people.



The storm was still raging, and he could feel it getting colder. Darkness had fallen rapidly, and he was aware that they were obstructing the road and had no lamps on. With visibility being so poor, any vehicle on the road could plow right into them before they even knew they were there.



He watched her work, lifting the leg every so often, and said, "If you don't mind, to keep our minds of our troubles, can we pray?"



She stared at him in surprise. "Is it that bad?" she asked quietly.



"No, not yet. But I won't lie to you, Belle. It's pretty dire. I hope to forestall disaster by praying that things don't get any worse. And we need to stay awake. It's growing colder every minute."



She nodded. "I understand. It's a good idea."



"Our Father, who art in Heaven…" he began.



They prayed together, stopping only when he had to give her instructions.



"We're going to have to splint that arm over his coat. I don't dare remove his clothes with the cold setting in like this."