Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,31
the injuries for a quarter-hour every hour.
‘I doubt you’ll need laudanum, my lady, and your daughter is far too young for me to administer any to her. She will be in some pain for a day or two. Rest for you both will be crucial. As for you, after a day, you might do some light stretches when the wrist begins to stiffen. A mild sprain will respond to a bit of exercise three times a day. It will help increase the blood flow and flexibility.”
“What should I do?” she asked.
“Place your palms together, as if in prayer.” Dr. Cherry demonstrated by bringing his hands in front of him with the elbows bent. “Put pressure against your hands by raising your elbows slightly until a nice stretch occurs. Hold it for half a minute and relax again. Remember, that’s in a day or so. For now, you and your daughter must get rest. Lady Claire needs a light diet. I will return to Treadwell Manor in two days and see what progress you’ve both made. In the meantime, I will place your arm in a sling. Lady Claire will need to remain off her feet and stay in bed. If she tires of it, she can sit in the invalid chair.”
“Thank you, Dr. Cherry, for coming to tend to us in such a frightful storm.”
“Not a problem, my lady. It’s not every day the ducal carriage comes for me. I was happy to assist.”
He removed a sling from his medical satchel and helped slip it around her neck and placed her arm in it.
“Having your wrist elevated will also promote healing. Pillows can be used to prop up Lady Claire’s ankle whenever she is in bed.”
“I’ll walk you out, Doctor,” the duke said and glanced about. “And be back to see that Lady Claire has finished her milk and biscuits.”
As they left, Claire yawned loudly. “I’m so tired, Mama.”
“I know, darling. It has been a hectic day. Why don’t we put you into bed? I’m sure you’ll sleep until tomorrow.”
“You’ll be here with me?” Claire asked anxiously as Mrs. Digsby lifted her from the chair and placed her in the bed.
“I will.” She handed Miss Molly to Claire, who held the doll close and asked, “Where’s Ralph?”
“Oh, he’s still in the satchel. I’ll fetch him.”
Elise went and opened the waterlogged satchel and pulled out the stuffed rabbit, which was damp.
“Ralph will need to sit by the fire and dry some before he comes to bed,” she proclaimed and set the rabbit next to the hearth. She also removed the book they read from each night and placed it with its pages open next to the rabbit. Finally, she removed the atlas. It had protected everything in the satchel, taking on the most water. A lump formed in her throat. It was most likely ruined. She braced it against the wall next to the fire, not having the heart to turn the pages and see the damage.
“You will need something to eat, my lady,” Mrs. Digsby said. “I’ll stay with Lady Claire. Would that be all right, my lady?” she asked Claire. “Your mama can get a bite to eat and then she’ll be with you.”
“Watch your biscuits, Mama,” her daughter warned. “His Grace might steal one.”
Elise kept a straight face. “I will do so.” She kissed her daughter’s brow as Mrs. Digsby placed a pillow under Claire’s ankle and then brought the bedclothes up.
“She’ll be fine, my lady. I’ll tell her a story or two,” the housekeeper promised. “Ones that my girl and boy enjoy.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Digsby.” Then she touched her hair. “Oh, it’s not quite dry yet.”
“Leave it down, my lady, until it does.”
She didn’t know if that was appropriate, especially around a duke. Before she could disagree with Mrs. Digsby, the duke entered the bedchamber again.
“I see you’re all settled in, Lady Claire.”
“Mama needs to eat. But don’t steal her biscuits.”
The duke clutched his heart. “Ah, my plans have been foiled. Oh, well.” He perched on the side of the bed. “I will see to your mama now. Tomorrow, when you tire of your bed, I will roll you about Treadwell Manor so you may see my house.”
“We cannot impose upon you, Your Grace,” Elise protested. “We should continue on to Briarcliff.” How they would get there, though, was a mystery. With Claire’s injury, the thought of the two of them riding in a cramped mail coach seemed impossible.