He blinked and she moved back, which at least meant he could get her into focus through the headache. Mousy brown hair, freckles, a heart-shaped face. Not pretty, certainly not compared to Daphne’s exquisite blonde delicacy, but the overall effect was vaguely feline in an amiable sort of way. A gentle waft of warm female and floral scent tickled his nose.
‘Do you think you can get out and into the inn? I have asked one of the grooms to help.’ She smiled at him, her head tipped to one side. Smiles were preferable to beauty, just at the moment.
Ivo felt as though he was being studied in order to give an accurate description to the Runners and blinked again. It was possible that he was concussed and imagining this. Ladies did not stare closely at men. Nor did they drag them out of the middle of fights into their carriages, as his vague memory told him this one had done.
‘Come on, shall we try to get you out?’ She leaned across him, opened the other door and a man reached in. ‘Yes, that’s right, mind his left shoulder.’ He was seized, dragged out and, as he struggled for balance, dropped.
‘Oh, dear. Well, hopefully that won’t have started it bleeding again,’ his rescuer said blithely as the groom hauled him to his feet again. ‘Now, what did I do with my bonnet and reticule?’
Ivo found himself in an inn yard, unsteady on his feet and held upright by a large young man who smelt strongly of the stables. ‘Where—?’
‘The Pack Horse in Turnham Green. Do you want to lean on me as well? No? This way then.’
‘Who—?’
‘I am Jane Newnham. Ah, Landlord. I would like a private parlour, some hot water, brandy and the services of your best local doctor. My brother has been attacked by footpads,’ she added clearly, with a sharp jab in Ivo’s ribs, presumably so he paid attention to her story. They began to move again. ‘Excellent, thank you. This will do nicely.’
‘Why—?’
‘Because you have been stabbed, I think, and there may be other injuries and my knowledge of human anatomy is entirely theoretical so, although I do not think you are in mortal peril, it is best to make certain. Here we are. Do you want to sit down on this bench or lie on the sofa? It doesn’t look very comfortable and you might drip on it.’
‘I will sit.’
A miracle, I have uttered three words without being interrupted.
The groom deposited him on the bench with a thump.
Ivo bit back the things he felt inclined to say and waited for the lad to shamble out. ‘It appears I am in your debt Miss—is it Miss? Yes?—Newnham. But I confess I am puzzled. I seem to recall being dragged into your carriage and that there were two women in it. Now you appear to be unaccompanied.’
‘That was Billing. I put her out at the last inn and gave her the money to go home. She is my mother’s maid and she was driving me quite distracted, even before you joined us—and we had only driven from Mayfair. I do find disapproving people very wearing, don’t you? It is like being constantly rubbed on the soul with emery paper.’
From her speech and her clothes this was a lady. Therefore, she should not be out alone on the highway, however unusual and whimsical she might be. She should most definitely not be in an inn with a strange man. Ivo said so. Firmly.
‘Nonsense. I could hardly abandon you, now could I? And clearly you are a gentleman or you would not quibble about this. And I told the landlord that I was your sister and I do not know anyone in Turnham Green, so there is absolutely no cause to worry.’
Ivo reminded himself that, until a few weeks past, he had been an officer in his Majesty’s army, had been wounded far more severely than this in the past, did not appear to be concussed and therefore he was more than capable of summoning the authoritative manner necessary to detach this female. Only, if he did, then she would be alone and unescorted. Damn.
‘This sounds like the doctor arriving,’ Miss Newnham said brightly. ‘You are being positively heroic about your wounds, but I am sure he will have you feeling better soon.’
There was a tap at the door and a redheaded, be-freckled man in his late twenties came in and smiled at them. ‘I believe the gentleman has been attacked? I am glad to see you conscious, sir. My name is Jamieson.’ He appeared to be expecting some reaction because he added, ‘I know I do not look old enough, but I assure you that I am a fully qualified graduate of the medical school of Edinburgh University. Now, sir, let us remove your upper garments. I imagine it will require some care.’ He advanced purposefully on Ivo.
‘Doctor Jamieson, there is a lady in the room.’
‘That is quite all right, dear,’ his rescuer said soothingly.
Dear?
‘My brother is being unduly shy. I am sure that between us we can remove his coat and shirt and so forth with less pain to him than if you attempt it alone.’
So forth?
‘Of course, ma’am. It is hardly as though we need to remove your brother’s nether garments, now is it? Ha-ha! At least, not yet.’
Over my dead body are my breeches coming off with this female in the room, Ivo thought grimly.
On the other hand, his shoulder appeared to be infested by devils wielding tiny pitchforks and his ribs were aching as though he had been kicked by a horse, not merely by four brainless louts. He knew from past experience that this process was easier if the patient was relaxed, so he nodded. ‘As you think best, Doctor.’
Miss Newnham was, to do her justice, both gentle and deft and did not fuss about, which usually ended up causing more pain. His coat came off eventually, his waistcoat was simple by comparison, his neckcloth was already untied and after five minutes he was down to his shirt. The makeshift pad that Miss Newnham had applied to his shoulder fell away and he saw she had used something with good lace on it. He would have to replace that, it was clearly beyond repair.