Page 3 of A Spinster to Heal the Duke
"It would," Anne agreed without hesitation.
As they began to make their way toward the stairs for bed, a knock at the door interrupted their back and forth.
"Who would be at the door this late?" Charles asked.
"It's Aunt Sarah. She couldn't wait and decided she needed both of us to come now," she said, giving Charles a small pinch before laughing.
Charles looked unamused.
Anne rolled her eyes and said, "I'm teasing. It's probably Esther or Judith. It's a little late for them, but I can't think who else it would be at this hour. See me to the door."
Charles went with his sister down the stairs and to the front door. He stiffened his shoulders and did his best to sound older and braver than his years.
"Who's there? It is very late, and we are not expecting company," he declared.
Anne sighed and whispered, "Who is it was probably enough."
As she chided him, a voice that was every bit as mature and brave as Charles tried to sound responded. The voice was deep but clear.
"My name is Noah Campbell. I am the Duke of Grandon. I've been injured and need assistance," the man said.
Anne and Charles exchanged a look then she opened the door. A man in the dress of high station stood before them, albeit tilted to one side.
"Your leg," Anne observed with concern.
"Goodness, man, how are you still standing?" Charles asked as well.
Though badly injured on his left calf, the gentleman seemed to be investing every effort into remaining a gentleman. He stood tall despite leaning, and his face and tone of speaking were composed.
His green eyes were striking and gave the only sign of his excruciating pain beyond appearance of the limb itself.
"Your Grace, what happened to you?" Anne asked, lowering herself to inspect his leg more closely. "Also, why are you alone and out at all at such a late hour?"
"I will answer your questions, but first, the respectable thing would be to invite me in. By now, you should already be seeing tomy wound and sending a driver with a message to my manor in London," the Duke ordered, stepping forward into the home.
CHAPTER 2
"Make yourself at home," Anne said, rolling her eyes behind the Duke's back.
She looked at Charles, but he only glanced at her and shrugged his head. They both walked quickly to keep pace with their guest's stride. Despite his injury, the Duke of Grandon moved intentionally and swiftly.
"The parlor is ahead to your left," Charles instructed.
He and Anne each reached to clasp the Duke's arms to support him as he moved and to guide him in the right direction. At first, His Grace seemed to prefer to shake them off, but when his injured leg nearly caused him to fall, he was more accepting of their assistance.
"There is a sofa that faces the door you may sit on. I will place pillows on the far end to support your leg then I will gather the necessary materials to treat your wound. As I do, you can regaleus with the tale of your injury and arrival at our doorstep," Anne said.
"Brandy first," His Grace stated, entering the parlor.
He sat with a low groan and gestured for Charles to pull the nearby ottoman closer.
"I require assistance removing my boot," he directed, placing his foot on the ottoman when Charles was upright again.
Charles looked at Anne. She shrugged then gestured with her head that he should be the one to assist His Grace.
"Charles, while you remove his boot, I will fetch the materials for his wound," she declared.
Anne hurried down the hall and she returned to the parlor with a tray holding a decanter of brandy and a glass. Charles was talking, presumably to manage his nerves.
