“We need a doctor in the stables!” he cried.

“Let me assess this situation,” Nicholas said to Georgie. “You should take the rest of your meal in the room.”

“But—”

He looked at her. “You can’t stay here on your own.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I should come with you. I can help.”

And in that moment, he knew deep in his core that she could. And that she wanted to. And she’d be helpful. But—

“Georgie, they need me in the stables.”

“Then I’ll go with you to the stables. I can—”

“Georgie, women aren’t allowed in the stables.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She smoothed her skirts, making every indication that she planned to follow him. “I’m in the stables every day.”

“You’re in Aubrey Hall’s stables. These are public stables.”

“But—”

“No,” he said, because he could not imagine trying to keep an eye on her welfare and tend to an injured man at the same time. “I’ll send a footman or groom back to escort you to the room where the maids are.”

“But—”

“You cannot come with me to the stables,” he said firmly.

“But I … I …” For a moment she looked lost, as if she could not decide what to do. But finally she swallowed and said, “Very well. I was almost done eating, anyway.”

“You’ll go straight back to the room?”

She nodded. But she didn’t look happy about it.

“Thank you.” He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I likely won’t see you until morning. I’m spending the night in the stables, anyway. Once I’m done, I might as well just settle in for the night.”

She let out a tiny sigh. “Good night, then,” she said. “I guess—”

“Straight back to the room,” he said one more time. The last thing he needed was to worry about Georgie’s welfare.

“Yes,” she said impatiently. “I’m going. You can watch me if you want.”

“No, I trust you. I’ve got to go. I think Wheelock’s got my medical bag, and—”

But she wasn’t listening. She couldn’t. He was already out the door, his feet carrying him faster than he could finish his sentence.

He turned around one last time. “Go,” he said. “Back to the room. Please.”

And then he ran off, feeling rather like he was about to save the world.

Chapter 15

 

 

Georgie was not in a good mood when she woke up the following morning. She knew she shouldn’t be annoyed with Nicholas for insisting that she go back to the room the night before while he tended to whatever injury awaited him in the stables, but surely the very definition of emotions meant that they were not always rational.

Also, she was tired.

One very small room, one rather lumpy bed, five women (each with a long braid), and three cats—comfortable was not a word anyone had spoken the evening before.

Sam (the groom who hailed from Aubrey Hall) was sweet on Darcy, and he’d brought a hammock from the stables and strung it from the rafters. He’d offered it to Georgie first of course, but he’d brought it for Darcy, and while Georgie did look at it with curious longing, she did not take it.

So Darcy had been in a hammock, and Marcy had—at her mother’s insistence—slept on the floor, but that had still left three women in a bed that had been meant for a cozy two. Georgie had woken up with Marian’s elbow in her armpit and an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

And no abatement of the frustration from the evening before.

Now, as the women made their way through the busy loading and unloading areas in front of the stables, she looked for Nicholas. If she could not help him with his medical work, she could at least force him to tell her all about it.

But Nicholas was nowhere to be seen.

“Mr. Rokesby,” Georgie said to one of the footmen as she handed Judyth’s basket up to Marian. “Where is he?”

“He’s sleeping, Mrs. Rokesby, ma’am.”

Georgie stopped with one foot on the blocks. “He’s sleeping? Still?”

“Yes, ma’am. He only finished up with the injured man a few hours ago.”

“My goodness, what happened?”

“I’m not sure, ma’am, but there was quite a lot of blood.”

Another footman appeared at her other side. “It was a broken leg, ma’am. The sort where the bone comes through the skin.”

“A compound fracture,” Georgie said. She might have been showing off. No, she was definitely showing off.

“Er, yes.”

“Will he be all right? The man with the broken leg?”

The footman shrugged. “Hard to tell, but if he’s not, it won’t be Mr. Rokesby’s fault. He was a proper hero, ma’am.”

Georgie smiled. “Of course he was. But, er …” What to do? She was in charge now, she realized. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Unfamiliar, but not, she was relieved to discover, unpleasant.

She cleared her throat and drew her shoulders back. “We’d planned to get an early start.”

“I know, ma’am,” the first footman said. “It’s just that he was so tired. We wanted to wait until as late as possible to rouse him. He’s got cotton stuffed in his ears and he tied his cravat around his eyes so it’s not surprising he’s still sleeping, but …”

“But?” she prompted.

The first footman looked at the second footman and then into the carriage. The second footman just looked at Georgie’s shoe, still perched on the step.

“But?” she prompted again.

“But we’re really quite nervous about the cat.”

Georgie paused for a moment, then stepped down. “Would you please take me to him?”

“To the cat?”

She forced her expression into one of utter patience. “The cat is already in the carriage. I would like to see Mr. Rokesby.”

“But he’s sleeping.”

“Yes, you’d mentioned.”

The three of them stood for an extended moment in awkward silence. The first footman finally said, “This way, ma’am.”

Georgie followed him to the stables, where he stopped at the entrance and pointed. Over on the left side a single hammock still hung, a fully clothed Nicholas barely discernable in the low light. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes were covered by his cravat.

She wanted to hug him.

She wanted to strangle him. If he had let her help the night before he wouldn’t be so tired.

This wasn’t, however, the time to be petty.

She turned on her heel and strode back toward the carriage. They could delay their start by an hour. Nicholas needed his sleep, and it went without saying that no one was going to get any rest inside the carriage. Holding Cat-Head like a baby seemed to help, but it didn’t keep him completely quiet.

She paused, peering back over her shoulder into the stables. She couldn’t quite see Nicholas any longer, but she could picture him in the hammock, swinging slightly with each breath.