Chapter 16 #2
She did not know whether to snort or glare if he thought she was the swooning type. Only pretty girls swooned, and rarely because they were actually faint. Rather, it was a performance to gain the concern of a gentleman they liked.
“Now, do not tell me that I should not touch you while I do this,” he said with a knowing look. “Rules are meant to be bent when there is a need for it, and you need tending to.”
She would have asked what he meant, but he showed her instead.
First, he removed her shoe and set it to one side.
Then, carefully, as if he were trying to separate the wing from a fallen butterfly, he eased her stocking down over her shin, pulling on the thin fabric until it was halfway toward her ankle.
Apparently deciding that was an appropriate distance, he rolled the stocking the rest of the way.
“I could have done that,” Evelyn murmured, too stunned to make any real complaint.
The brush of his fingertips did not permit any objection, the accidental caresses so soft and well-intentioned… and utterly overwhelming to her dazed mind. No one had ever touched her like that before, as if she were worth caring for, as if she were something precious.
“I am sure you could, but I did not want you causing further harm to yourself,” he explained, his throat bobbing. “We do not yet know if you have any other injuries after falling as you did. I find it is best to act slowly and not do too much when one might have hit their head.”
“I did not,” she argued. “I landed on my shoulders. I know because the air rushed out of me.”
“Nevertheless…” He took the torn sleeve and wrapped it tightly around the ankle that was just beginning to bloom with the reds and purples and grays of a nasty bruise.
As he tied the makeshift bandage around her injury, however, she noticed a slight shake in his left hand.
He flexed it sporadically, the tremor stopping for long enough to allow him to continue, but when it came to putting a knot in the fabric, the shake returned.
A grimace twisted his mouth as he clenched the offending hand into a fist, paused for a few seconds, then determinedly secured a tight knot in the bandage.
“Am I making you nervous?” she asked, though she could not explain why. That was tantamount to flirtation, which was not like her at all.
His gaze lifted, his blue eyes narrowing. No humor glinted in their depths, but a coldness that let her know she had asked the wrong question.
“Your hand is shaking,” she added, no doubt making it worse.
“It is nothing,” he insisted firmly, withdrawing his touch.
She frowned as that trembling hand remained in a fist, his other hand moving to cover it.
A sure sign that it was not, in fact, nothing.
She had seen something similar with the old cook, whom her father had dismissed, despite the woman’s pleas that she could still do her duties.
It had been caused by a fall, in which the cook had put her hand down to protect herself, the injury never quite healing right, causing a constant tremor that had only worsened with age.
“Did you hurt it today?” she asked. “Or… is it an old injury?”
It was a guess, but the defeated look he gave her told her that she had deduced correctly.
“I have… pain in my left arm,” he replied after a moment’s pause, his gaze lowered, a frown creasing his brow. “My entire left side is… weaker than the right. It mostly does not affect me anymore, but sometimes, it returns.”
“I am sorry,” she said quietly. “How… um… how did that happen?”
She sensed she was prying, but it would at least take her mind off the memory of his touch upon her skin, the light brushes that still made her feel all tingly and strange.
“A riding accident, ironically enough,” he said with a wry, almost pained smile.
“I was not always the epitome of confidence. As a boy, I was rather afraid of horses. Well, not horses, but the speed of the creatures. My father was teaching me how to shoot and ride, and… I was not going fast enough for his liking. He made me ride faster and faster until both my horse and I were near exhaustion. I made a mistake, I fell rather hard, and my left side has never been the same.”
She stared at him, long versed in the art of hearing more than was said. There was not just pain in his smile but in his enchanting blue eyes, his right hand absently massaging up the length of his left arm, as if to rid himself of the memory as well as the fresh reminder of that accident.
“He was a strict father?” Evelyn asked.
A bitter laugh escaped Hugo’s lips. “Strict to the point of cruelty. I was told that I ought to wear spectacles when I was a boy, but he did not care for the notion. He believed my eyes could be strengthened the way a muscle can, so he made me read in poor light, made me do a thousand peculiar things to fix my sight.” He blinked.
“I still do not wear spectacles, though I have no doubt they would improve things.”
She thought of the times she had seen him scrunch his left eye shut, as if it helped him to see better out of his right eye. Compensating for what his left eye could not manage, though undoubtedly putting more strain upon his good eye.
You poor thing…
It was wretched to imagine that any father could be so cruel, making her own dismissive father seem like a saint by comparison.
“I think you should defy those old commands and wear spectacles,” she said. “And… I would not have noticed your hand if we were not so close. I doubt anyone else would notice. I am… so very sorry that happened to you.”
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago, and I am just grateful that he was not so cruel to my sister.” He got to his feet, offering her his right hand. “Come, let us get you back onto your horse and return you to the manor.”
There was discomfort in his manner, as if he could not quite believe he had revealed so much to her. She longed to know more, of course, but she held her tongue, strangely heartened that he had chosen to share so much with her at all.
Bracing for the pain, she took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet, keenly aware of his arm around her waist as he led her back to the docile mare. Regardless of whatever weakness he might have, he felt effortlessly strong to her.