When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,93
at all, so send him away when he comes,” Carlin growled. “Jiggs will handle this.”
Once the startled footman retreated, he told the valet, “Fix me up, will you? You must have some crackpot treatments in your bag of tricks.”
“Aye, Duke. I’ll fetch me kit.”
Jiggs scampered across the bedchamber and through a doorway, leaving Tessa alone with Carlin. While applying gentle pressure to the wound, she took the opportunity to ask, “How did this happen, Guy? Was it one of the performers? I was down on the floor and couldn’t see—and then you jumped over the ledge. You might have killed yourself, by the way.”
One eyebrow cocked, he regarded her over the rim of the brandy glass. “It’s a relief to know that you care whether I live or die.”
Her heart squeezed as she found herself the subject of those penetrating brown eyes. He looked far too appealing, sprawled bare-chested on the chaise, with a lock of black hair dipping onto his brow. She wanted nothing more than to hug him close and tuck her face into the crook of his neck. But that would mean abandoning her resolve. “Of course I care,” she said briskly. “I would never want Sophy to see her papa leap to his death.”
He groped for her hand and stroked his thumb across her palm. “It was no more dangerous than jumping off the stable roof when I was a lad. And of course we won’t mention that time I had to swing from a vine over a cliff—”
“To escape a herd o’ wild boar,” Jiggs said with a cackle as he came trotting back with a leather case. “Thought we was both done fer that time.”
As he unbuckled the strap to display a number of tins and bottles inside, along with bundles of dried herbs, Tessa removed her hand from Carlin’s tempting clasp. A plethora of aromatic odors tickled her nose. “What is all that?”
“Medicines from around the globe,” Carlin said. “While I was cataloging plants, Jiggs was studying their healing properties.”
“You said earlier that he could kill you with his remedies,” she said in alarm. “Why not just use basilicum powder from Mrs. Womble’s basket?”
“Because I’ve been hoping for an opportunity to do some research on these herbs. What curatives do you have there for bullet wounds, Jiggs?”
“Sweet broom leaves an’ pawpaw seeds, I reckon,” the valet said, dropping a few dried items into a pestle. “An’ a pinch of calabash bark.”
As the man began grinding them with a mortar, Tessa prayed he knew what he was about. She sprang to her feet, poured warm water into a bowl from the pitcher, and leaned over the duke to clean the crusted blood around the lesion with a piece of dampened lint.
Although she was careful, Carlin winced. “It’s best to leave this to Jiggs. It isn’t a matter for a lady. In fact, perhaps you ought to go on up to the nursery. Sophy will be wondering where you are.”
Tessa tried out her duchess stare on him. “If you intend to experiment on yourself to the risk of death, the least I can do is to ensure you are clean.”
“If you insist, then.”
He meekly leaned back to endure her gentle ministrations. Despite his casual manner, his arm had to be causing him considerable discomfort, Tessa knew. He was watching her in a way that made her heart skip a beat, and she hoped he wouldn’t take the wrongful notion that the rift between them had been mended. She could tend to him in an emergency without consenting to join his world and give up her dreams.
She patted his arm dry, then tucked a towel beneath it to catch any seepage. “There, you may do your doctoring now, Jiggs.”
The valet proceeded to sprinkle a powdery brown concoction into the deep gash. Seeing that he was about to thoughtlessly use a bloodstained strip of linen to bind the wound, she took it from his stubby fingers and set it aside. “I shall do the bandaging, if you please. And it’s time His Grace told us exactly what happened today.”
Carlin exchanged a droll look with the valet. “Overbearing, isn’t she?”
“Best t’ just do as yer told,” Jiggs advised as he refilled the duke’s glass. “So start talkin’, Duke.”
Carlin took a swallow of brandy. “I was shot during one of the performances. There were some two dozen jesters riding on ponies while using toy pistols that were rigged to fire without ammunition. When I noticed that Sophy was hanging