The Hope of Love - Meara Platt Page 0,12

front of her eyes.

Then all went black.

Chapter Four

“Felicity!” Angus heard her scream, for he hadn’t moved away from her front door yet. Then he heard a terrible crash. His heart shot into his throat. He tore back into the shop, the vicar on his heels, only to find Felicity sprawled unconscious on the floor. Her arm was in a position that should not have been possible were it undamaged.

“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