First Comes Scandal (Rokesbys #4) - Julia Quinn Page 0,60

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.

He’d looked so comfortable. She hated to wake him. It was really too bad—

“Ma’am?”

She looked up. One of the footmen was regarding her with concern. And no wonder. She’d been standing there for what had to have been a full minute, frozen in thought.

“Ma’am?” he said again.

A slow smile spread across her face. “I’m going to need some rope.”

NICHOLAS AWOKE WITH a start. It was unnerving to open one’s eyes and see nothing, and it took

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