Hello Stranger (The Ravenels #4)(65)

She had no principles when it came to Ethan Ransom. She only loved him.

Shaken, despairing, she blinked against a burning wet blur. She was choking on her own breath.

Damn it, damn it, now she was crying.

Someone was standing at the doorway. It was West Ravenel, leaning a broad shoulder against the jamb, his gaze level and appraising. His blue eyes were startling against the sun-browned richness of his complexion.

Garrett lowered her head, swallowing repeatedly against the needling pain in her throat. She had no defenses left. He must have contempt for her, or pity, and either way, one word from him would destroy her.

“Go on and take a crack at it,” she heard Ravenel say casually. “I’ll help you.”

Her head bobbed upward. She stared at him, dumbfounded. It took her a moment to realize he was offering to assist with the surgery. After clearing her throat twice, the clenched muscles loosened enough for her to speak. “Do you have any medical training?”

“Not a bit. But I’ll do whatever you tell me.”

“Do you have any problems with the sight of blood?”

“Lord, no, I’m a farmer. I’m around blood all the time, both animal and human.”

Garrett regarded him dubiously, blotting her cheeks with the edge of her sleeve. “There’s that much blood involved in farming?”

Ravenel grinned. “I didn’t say I was any good at it.” The flash of his smile was so oddly like Ethan’s that Garrett felt a sharp pang in her chest. Tugging a handkerchief from inside his coat, he came forward to give it to her.

Mortified for him to have seen her crying, Garrett wiped her cheeks and eyes, and blew her nose. “How much did you hear?”

“Most of it. Sound carries all through this library.”

“Do you think Havelock was right?”

“About which part?”

“That I should make Mr. Ransom comfortable during his last few minutes on earth instead of torturing him with surgery?”

“No, you’ve already managed to ruin a moving deathbed scene. I couldn’t wait to hear what came after ‘your shadow on the ground is sunlight to me,’ but then you started giving orders like a drill sergeant. You might as well operate on Ransom: we won’t get any more good lines out of him tonight.”

Garrett stared at him with a bewildered frown. The man either didn’t know or didn’t care how inappropriate it was to joke in these circumstances. She suspected it was the latter. On the other hand, she found his cool insouciance rather reassuring. She sensed he could be a bit of a bastard when it suited him, not at all the kind who would fall apart under pressure, and at the moment, that was exactly what she needed.

“All right,” she said. “Go to the kitchen and wash the upper half of your body with carbolic soap and hot water. Make certain to scrub beneath your fingernails.” She looked down at his hands, which were elegantly long-fingered and scrupulously clean. The nails were pared nearly down to the quick, with only the thinnest possible white crescents showing.

“What should I wear?” Ravenel asked.

“A bleached linen or cotton shirt. Don’t touch anything afterward—especially not tables or doorknobs—and come back here directly.”

He gave her a short nod and strode away with a confident stride. His voice could be heard in the hallway. “Mrs. Abbot, I’m going to the kitchen to wash. You’ll want to warn the housemaids to shield their eyes from the sight of my manly torso.”

Kathleen, Lady Trenear, came to Garrett. “Whose housemaids would he be referring to?” she asked dryly. “Ours will be crowding into the scullery to obtain the best possible view.”

“Is he reliable?” Garrett asked.

“Solid as a rock. West manages the estate farms and leaseholds, and is experienced at everything from spring lambing to tending sick livestock. He can handle anything, no matter how revolting. And I’m usually like that also, but . . .” Kathleen paused and looked chagrined. “I’m with child again, and I’m queasy most of the time.”

Garrett looked at the countess with concern, seeing that she was clammy and ashen, and visibly unsteady. The foul smell of polluted water must have made her wretched. “It’s not good for you to be exposed to this contamination,” she said. “You must bathe at once, and lie down in a well-ventilated room. Also, have your cook make tea with fresh gingerroot. That will help to settle your stomach.”

“I will.” Kathleen smiled at her. “You’ll have West and the servants to help you. My husband will be making arrangements for Mr. Ransom to be spirited away from London as soon as possible. He must be taken to a safe place until he’s well again.”

“I fear you may have rather too much faith in my abilities,” Garrett said grimly.

“After the surgery you performed on Pandora? . . . there’s no doubt in any of our minds that you have miracles up your sleeves.”

“Thank you.” To Garrett’s annoyance, her eyes began to water again.

Kathleen’s small hands came to hers and gripped them warmly. “Do your best, and let fate take its course. You can’t blame yourself for the outcome if you know you did everything you could.”

Garrett managed a wobbly smile. “Forgive me, my lady . . . but you don’t know much about doctors.”