Married By Morning (The Hathaways #4)(22)

“I’m reluctant to give you too much sympathy,” Amelia replied, “in light of my suspicion that you’ve only done this to get out of the turnip planting.”

Leo replied with two choice words that made her grin.

Pulling the bed linens to her brother’s waist, Amelia carefully tucked towels beneath his injured shoulder and side. The sight of his lean, smoothly muscled torso—and that intriguing dusting of hair on his chest—caused Catherine’s stomach to dive in an odd little swoop. She retreated farther behind the door, not wanting to leave and yet knowing it was improper for her to stay.

Cam dropped a kiss atop his wife’s head and nudged her away from the bed. “Wait over there, monisha—we need room to work.” He turned to the nearby tray of supplies.

Catherine blanched as she heard the rattle of knives and metal implements.

“Aren’t you going to sacrifice a goat or perform a tribal dance?” Leo asked woozily. “Or at least chant something?”

“We did all that downstairs,” Cam said. He handed a piece of leather strap to Leo. “Put this between your teeth. And try not to make too much noise while we’re working on you. My son is napping.”

“Before I put this in my mouth,” Leo said, “you might tell me the last place it’s been.” He paused. “On second thought … never mind. I don’t want to know.” He put the strap between his teeth, then removed it temporarily to add, “I’d rather you didn’t amputate anything.”

“If we do,” Merripen said, swabbing carefully around the injured shoulder, “it won’t be intentional.”

“Ready, phral?” she heard Cam ask gently. “Hold him still, Merripen. All right. On the count of three.”

Amelia joined Catherine in the hallway, her face tense. She wrapped her arms around her middle.

They heard Leo’s low groan, followed by a voluble flow of Romany between Cam and Merripen. The foreign language was brisk but soothing.

It was clear that despite the effects of the opium, the procedure was difficult to endure. Every time Catherine heard a grunt or pained sound coming from Leo, she tensed all over and knotted her torn fingers together.

After two or three minutes had passed, Amelia looked around the doorway. “Did it splinter?” she asked.

“Only a little, monisha, ” came Cam’s reply. “It could have been much worse, but—” He paused at a muffled sound from Leo. “Sorry, phral. Merripen, take the tweezers and—yes, that part right there.”

Amelia’s face was pale as she turned back to Catherine. And she astonished her by reaching out and drawing her close in the same way she might have hugged Win, Poppy, or Beatrix. Catherine stiffened a little, not in aversion but awkwardness. “I’m so glad you weren’t harmed, Catherine,” Amelia said. “Thank you for taking care of Lord Ramsay.”

Catherine nodded slightly.

Drawing back, Amelia smiled at her. “He’ll be fine, you know. He has more lives than a cat.”

“I hope so,” Catherine said soberly. “I hope this isn’t a result of the Ramsay curse.”

“I don’t believe in curses, or spells, or anything of the sort. The only curse my brother faces is self-imposed.”

“You … you mean because of his grief over Laura Dillard?”

Amelia’s blue eyes turned round. “He talked to you about her?”

Catherine nodded.

Amelia seemed caught off guard. Taking Catherine’s arm, she drew her further along the hallway, where there was less risk of being overheard. “What did he say?”

“That she liked to watercolor,” Catherine replied hesitantly. “That they were betrothed, and then she caught the scarlet fever, and died in his arms. And that … she haunted him for a time. Literally. But that couldn’t be true … could it?”

Amelia was silent for a good half minute. “I think it might be,” she said with remarkable calmness. “I wouldn’t admit that to many people—it makes me sound like a lunatic.” A wry smile crossed her lips. “However, you’ve lived with the Hathaways long enough to know of a certainty that we are indeed a pack of lunatics.” She paused. “Catherine.”

“Yes?”

“My brother never discusses Laura Dillard with anyone. Ever.”

Catherine blinked. “He was in pain. He’d lost blood.”

“I don’t think that is why he confided in you.”

“What other reason could there have been?” Catherine asked with difficulty.

It must have shown in her face, how much she dreaded the answer.

Amelia stared at her closely, and then shrugged with a rueful smile. “I’ve already said too much. Forgive me. It’s only that I desire my brother’s happiness so greatly.” She paused before adding sincerely, “And yours.”

“I assure you, ma’am, one has nothing to do with the other.”

“Of course,” Amelia murmured, and went back to the doorway to wait.

Chapter Nine

After the wound had been cleaned and bandaged, Leo was left gray-faced and exhausted. He slept for the rest of the day, waking occasionally to find broth or fever tea being poured down his throat. The family was merciless in their efforts to take care of him.