Page 37 of A Rake's Redemption
Inis laid her bandaged hand on Goldie’s neck and turned at the sound of Alex’s voice, not surprised he sounded irritated. She hadn’t seen Alex since Wednesday afternoon when he’d given her that odd little kiss and then practically run from the room, but she had a sense that he’d kept an eye on her. She’d half expected not to be able to get out of the house. “Brushing Goldie.”
“I can see that,” Alex replied, still sounding irritated. “I meant what are you doing in the stables?”
“’Tis where the horses are,” Inis said, trying not to sound as though she were speaking to a simpleton. “I could lead her outside and hitch her to a post if ye prefer.”
Alex arched a brow and stepped inside the stall. “Do not try to sidetrack me. You know what I am talking about. There could be hundreds of spiders in the straw.”
“As ye can see, I am fully clothed,” Inis answered and then felt her face warm as his gaze traveled slowly from her head to her toes and back. “I mean, I am wearing protection.”
He moved closer to pick up her bandaged hand. “This is not.”
She tried to ignore the warmth from his touch that coursed up her arm and the feeling of being enveloped by his entire body since he was standing so close to her. “I am nae raking my hands through the straw.”
“Your wound is not healed. It has only been three days.”
“’Tis nae festering.” Inis tried to pull her hand from his and winced slightly against his grip. She smiled quickly to cover the pain, but it was too late. Alex slid one hand to her arm and his other to her waist to firmly propel her from the stall.
“I am nae finished with Goldie.”
Alex looked grim. “You are for today. Back to the house you go.”
She dug her heels into the ground. “I need to finish…” The rest of the sentence left in a whoosh of air as Alex picked her up and began carrying her toward the house. She squirmed. “Put me down.”
“No.” He tightened his hold, bringing her closer. “If you keep wiggling, I will toss you over my shoulder instead.”
“Ye wouldna dare.”
Both brows rose. “You should know that I seldom refuse a dare.”
She tried to glare at him, but as close as their faces were, it turned into something more like a fascinated stare. His hair fell silkily over the arm she had somehow put around his neck. She didn’t recall doing that, but then, how else was she going to hold on? Her gaze dropped to his mouth, which was a big mistake. She looked up quickly, but not before the memory of those softly firm, warm lips pressing against her forehead seared through her brain. She noticed now that there were flecks of golden-brown in the green depths of his eyes.
“Perhaps I had better put you down after all.” He set her on her feet, his voice sounding oddly husky. “We will walk together the rest of the way.”
Inis looked down, embarrassment sweeping through her. Had he read her thoughts? Did he think she wanted to be kissed? She’d probably been looking at him like a moonstruck calf. By putting her back on the ground, he was letting her know he didn’t welcome any such ideas.
At least he wasn’t running away from her. But he no doubt thought she’d return to the barn. Which she would and maybe should.
But they were almost at the kitchen door, so unless she wanted to bolt and run, she’d have to go in. Alex held it open for her and she stepped through. Then he pulled a chair from the table. “Sit.”
She didn’t have much choice, but she was glad only Mrs. Olsen was there at this time of day. Inis certainly didn’t want the serving girls or scullery lads gawking at them.
“Is something wrong, my lord?” the cook asked.
“I hope not,” Alex said as he pulled out another chair and sat down. “Could I have some hot water, a clean cloth, and the salve the doctor left?”
“Right away.” She poured water into a bowl from a kettle kept warm on the stove and placed it and a clean towel on the table before hustling off to retrieve the salve.
“What are ye doing?” Inis asked as Alex took her hand and started unraveling the bandage.
“I want to check your wound.”
“’Tis nae more than a puncture mark,” Inis protested and then turned silent as he removed the bandage. They both stared at the reddish circle around a small weeping wound.
“I would say it is a bit more than that,” Alex said, his voice grim. “Why did you not tell me it was infected?”
“The doctor said to watch for bluish color,” Inis replied. “’Tis nae that.”
“Red is not good, either, and the bite is open.”
