“Adam, don’t,” he said with a shaking voice as the vicar leaned over to lift her off the floor. “She’s broken her arm. Let me make certain nothing else is broken before either of us lifts her.”
“All right. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.” The vicar took several deep breaths, obviously quite shaken himself. “Is she alive?”
Felicity groaned, sparing him the need of a response.
“Thank the Lord,” Angus muttered. “Yes, she seems to be coming around now.”
She blinked her eyes open and tried to rise. Angus placed his hand gently on her uninjured shoulder. “Don’t move yet, love. Your arm’s broken. Let me check the rest of you before you attempt to get up. You’ve hit your head.” He could see the red welt forming on her brow and feared it would turn into something quite serious as the night wore on. It wouldn’t be long before she sported a lump the size of a goose egg on her forehead. The danger was in allowing the lump to get larger than that, for it would put too much pressure on her brain.
Had she broken any other bones?
He took his time examining her, careful to shift her as little as possible while he felt along her neck and spine. He spoke to her all the while, hoping his tone would calm her as he ran his hands along her shoulders, hips, down her legs, and removed her boots so that he could inspect each of her toes.
He let out a breath in relief when she was easily able to wiggle them. “Adam, it’s just her arm,” he said, sparing a glance at the vicar. As displaced Scots, they had quickly become friends. “Her ankle’s twisted. Not much swelling yet, but it will hurt. She’ll have to keep off it for a day or two, possibly three.”
Adam nodded. “Thank goodness it isn’t worse. What can I do to help?”
“Pack some ice in a cloth. We’ll use it as a compress for her head. It’s vital we keep the swelling down. I’ll put a splint on her arm. She’ll have bruising everywhere, but the bruises ought to fade fairly quickly. She’s otherwise in good health and her circulation is good. We’ll need more ice for her ankle, too.”
He lifted Felicity into his arms with care and carried her into her bedchamber. His heart tugged as she absently wrapped her good arm around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. This felt so right, her body pressed against his, and her response so natural and trusting. She belonged with him, only he had been too dense to realize it.
Her hair felt silky against his cheek.
Why had he never said anything to her about his feelings? He’d wasted all this precious time.
The room was sparsely furnished but had all the essentials, a bed, a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers along with a few delicate touches. He deposited Felicity onto the mattress, still taking care to be gentle as he set her atop the covers. He did not tuck her in yet and would not until he’d finished treating her injuries.
He started by removing her stockings.
Adam had followed him in and was looking over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Her right ankle is sprained and swelling. I’m just making certain it isn’t anything worse.” Fortunately, it wasn’t.
He loosened the ties of her gown next and carefully drew down the sleeve to get a look at her broken arm. “Adam, why are you still hovering? Get me the ice.”
Angus also left Felicity’s side a moment to search for strips of wood to hold her broken bone in place and cloths to bind it. He came back quickly with all he needed. But as he drew the fabric aside, he noticed a birthmark on her back, just below her shoulder. “Mother in heaven,” he said in a whisper, realizing where he’d seen another just like it. “No, it can’t be.”
The vicar hurried in. “Here, Angus. I’ve got… What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Damn, is she in worse shape than you thought? What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing at the moment. Perhaps pray for her to heal quickly. Give me the compress. We’ll take turns applying it to the lump. We have to keep the swelling down.” He winced. “I think she hit her head pretty hard.”
The vicar noticed Angus had nudged her gown down to her waist.
Angus followed the direction of his gaze. “I had to do it to tend to her broken arm.”
“I know. Should we undress her? I mean, you’ve already got her part way there.”
“Don’t touch her.” Angus shot him a look that warned he wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise if he dared set a hand on Felicity.
“For pity’s sake, stop shooting daggers at me. I meant nothing lewd by it. And don’t pretend for a moment you weren’t looking at her splendid body and lusting.”
“I had to look. In a medical way. That’s all.”
“My arse, you’re practically in spasms over the girl. Don’t bother to deny it. She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she? Won’t she be more comfortable in her nightclothes?”
“Yes, but you’re not to touch her.”
Adam held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, I won’t. But she still needs to be made comfortable. You can’t leave her with the gown hanging half off her body.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Angus knew he was being possessive and unreasonable, but he didn’t care. No other man would ever put his hands on Felicity. Hell, he wasn’t sure Felicity would ever allow him to put his hands on her. Why would she when he’d never given her cause to think he cared?
He’d purposely kept his distance, purposely hidden his feelings. And now he was supposed to return to Scotland.
He’d planned to leave shortly after Christmas eve supper at Sherbourne Manor.
But how could he abandon Felicity in this condition? “I’ll do it,” he repeated softly. “Go into the bookshop. I’ll call you back in when she’s decent.”
“Angus,” his friend said with a sigh, “you have to tell her. She deserves to know who you really are.”
He tensed, but not because of Adam’s admonition. He’d planned to reveal his true identity to Felicity before he left Wellesford. But he’d just discovered who she was, that rare birthmark on the back of her shoulder proof of her family connection.
Well, not solid proof. More of a solid indication.
He’d confirm it once the storm ended. But what then? Confront her mother? Force her to reveal her identity to Felicity? To what end? The woman, her husband, and family would all be destroyed if the truth came out.
Lord, this was a mess.
Felicity had never known who her parents were. They’d abandoned her when she was a baby, dumping her at the orphanage. Angus wasn’t certain of the father’s identity, but he now had a strong suspicion of her mother’s. Blessed saints! The woman was a regular at Felicity’s book club meetings.
She’d been right under Felicity’s nose all these years.
The vicar placed a hand on his shoulder. “Angus, seriously, are you all right?”
“Yes, just worried about her.”
“So am I. Are you going to stay by her bedside through the night?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll sit with you.” He tossed Angus a mirthless smile. “You need a chaperone. The fiery way you look at her, you ought to be doused with water to put out the flames. How long have you been in love with her?”