“Don’t you worry about that; I just need something for it.”
“I could have someone fetch a doctor,” she offered.
“No,” I said firmly. “No doctor.” Aunt Agnes would be furious if I drew any more attention to myself.
Betsy nodded and hurried from the room.
Now that I was awake, the pain in my hand came back full force. I looked around the room, eager to distract myself as I waited. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of my mountain goat—now a mostly blackened lump. I walked over to the hearth and picked it up. One side was far more damaged than the other. One of the horns had been burned off, along with much of the fine detailing in the fur. I closed my palm around it, grateful to have any of it left at all.
Betsy knocked before pushing the door open with her back, her hands occupied with a tray of supplies. “I have some cool water and yeast, which is what cook recommended.” The wrinkling of her nose suggested doubt as to the worth of the method. “If you desire something more medicinal, I’m afraid we’ll have to call for a doctor. Which, I might add, is what I think we should do.”
I took a seat at the vanity and set down my charred mountain goat. He seemed to stare back at me with condemnation. The ash left my hand coarse and sooty. I turned back to Betsy. “No, no. I don’t wish to make a fuss. Let’s try the cool water and yeast and then wrap it with this gauze you brought. We need to hurry so you can attend to Aunt Agnes.”
Betsy knelt before me and set down the tray. My palm stung as she applied the yeast, and I took in quick breaths to keep my gathering tears from falling. “No one will notice if I pull my glove over it, will they?” I spoke through clenched teeth.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Good, then go and see to Aunt Agnes before she grows impatient.”
By the time I was ready for the day, breakfast was almost over. I walked into the breakfast room and headed straight to the sideboard. The footman stepped forward. “A little of everything, please.” Usually I served myself, but today it would be impossible for me to both hold my plate and fill it. The footman bowed. He let me take the lead as I showed him what I wanted.
“Would you like me to take your plate to the table?” he asked.
“No, thank you.” I took the plate with my left hand and approached the others. Much to my surprise, Halstead was seated at the table. He had never joined the breakfast party before today. I quickly looked away, not eager to face him after last night’s confrontation. If I could, I would remain in my room for the remainder of our time here.
“Miss Graham, good morning.” Lady Margaret greeted me as all of the gentlemen rose. I eyed the only open seat—between Lord Aberdeen and Halstead.
“Good morning,” I returned, settling into my seat. “Lord Aberdeen.” I nodded.
Lord Aberdeen gave me a pained look. “Miss Graham, I hope I will not offend you by leaving just as you arrive. I have some business in town to attend to.”
I set my napkin in my lap. “Oh no. Please do not think of it.” My voice was prim, my manners overexaggerated in reaction to the pain.
He stood and gave an extravagant bow before exiting the room.
I picked up my fork and tried to cut my sausage without the benefit of a knife. My attempt was inelegant and unfruitful, but not eating would only draw attention. I abandoned the sausage and stabbed at a bite of eggs.
Lady Ellen pushed back her plate. “The great outdoors calls us. Would you care to join us for a ride this morning, Miss Graham? You left last night before we made plans.”
My heart jumped skittishly, as it soon became apparent that everyone but Halstead would be leaving. The minute they left we would be alone, save for the footman standing against the wall. I chewed for longer than necessary, trying to think up an excuse as to why I wouldn’t be joining them.
“Perhaps Juliet wishes to stay back and practice on the pianoforte,” Hugh joked.
Heat rushed up my neck. I silently considered whether I could slap proficiently hard with my uninjured hand. I cast a furtive look at Halstead, whose gaze skirted over me, but I kept my head down.
Robert leaned back in his chair. “Would you care to join us, Juliet? I could wait while you finish.” Cordiality lined his tone, his mood from last night quite altered. He glanced toward Halstead.
I wanted to go. Last evening’s frustration with Robert had evaporated, or perhaps it was only buried under the constant throbbing of my palm. Either way, riding was impossible, the thought of holding reins in my hand excruciating. “No, thank you. I believe I shall stay in this morning.”
Robert gave an abrupt nod. He rose and joined the others, and silence pervaded the room. I glanced down at my plate, tempted to retreat to my room, but I couldn’t very well run off after only eating three bites.
Halstead sat unmoving, watching me. I did my best to eat with my left hand, but my movements were awkward at best. Only sheer force kept my tears at bay, my hand silently begging for attention. Each bite became more difficult to get down.
At last Halstead broke the silence. “What happened to your hand?”
I bit my cheek, remembering last night. “It’s none of your concern,” I said coolly.
“And why not? Because you think last night I somehow used you?” His words contained a challenge.
“Didn’t you?” I turned toward him, brows raised. Strange as it seemed, I was grateful for the chance to argue, to distract myself from the searing pain in my hand.
The set of his mouth was severe.
