Page 81 of The Lighthouse Keeper and the Mermaid
Her heart leapt, and as she opened her mouth, he put up a hand to stop her. “Not like that, Miss Wains. As long as infection does not take hold, I do not think we have to worry for his life.”
“Then…?”
“He will need support.”
“I can support him.” The words came out of her mouth without thought.
He raised his eyebrow. “But you cannot leave the lighthouse.”
“True. How much support will he need?”
“These first days? Quite a bit. Someone to help with food and water and to assist him with walking. He’ll be very weak, and don’t think I didn’t catch how you were helping him to get here.”
“I can do it,” she said again. “There is a couch in the parlor of the lighthouse. He can sleep there.”
The man shook his head. “That is highly improper, Miss Wains.”
“As a nurse and a patient?”
“As a man and a woman.”
“But—”
The old man put up another hand to stop her. “My dear, I realize how your pure heart would never accept such a thing, but think of what happened with Mr. Runington. One night at your place and the very night you saved him at that, and the whole town is turned upside down with talks of your marriage. Now I hear you had never even agreed?”
“No, I had no intention of marrying Mr. Runington.”
The man nodded. “Well then, I will do my best to clear up that rumor, shall I? But let’s not start another. If you know of no kin, I can help him here until the bed is needed.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And Mr. Runington, he was already dead?”
Why did the question feel likea test?
“He was.”
With the corner of his lip puckering, the doctor nodded. “I had not realized Mr. Wilson was such a good shot, but perhaps a man is capable of anything when it comes to love.”
Love? Another test perhaps? Was the old doctor the biggest gossip of them all?
“Mr. Wilson is a good friend, doctor.”
“Did I say otherwise?”
He sounded so ridiculously innocent that she actually laughed.
But then the man sobered. “Just know, Miss Wains, Mr. Runington’s father will likely come to collect the body, and having met the man once, I will warn you: you will think the son a saint by comparison.”
CHAPTER 97
She could not help but laugh again for surely it must be a jest. Just this morning, Mr. Runington had had a gun to her head; nothing could be worse than that man.
But her smile faded as quickly as it had formed. Why did it not look like he was joking?
“I am serious, Miss Wains,” he confirmed. “Perhaps we should spare you. I can have men collect the body so he will not have to go there. Though he might regardless, for it is his lighthouse and his son who was murdered there.”
“He was notmurdered.”
