A Man Most Worthy. Ruth Axtell Morren

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A Man Most Worthy - Ruth Axtell Morren Mills & Boon Historical

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Three

      Alice reined in her horse and stared in horror as Mr. Tennent went flying over the hedgerow and landed with a thud against the earth.

      The next second she was off her horse, running to him. “Lucy, my horse,” she shouted over her shoulder, “Victor, go after Duke!”

      She tore through the holly bushes, unmindful of their sharp leaves and knelt by Mr. Tennent. He’d landed on his side and now with a groan rolled over onto his back, one arm clutching his ribcage.

      “Are you all right, Mr. Tennent? Where does it hurt?” She smoothed back the hair from his forehead. The far side of his face was scraped along the cheekbone.

      He began to sit up, his face contorted. She pushed him gently down again. “Lie still.”

      “It’s my shoulder and side.” His voice was laced with pain.

      She glanced up as Victor’s shadow loomed over them. He didn’t have his horse.

      “Where’s Duke?”

      “Long gone.” He kicked the ground in disgust, hardly sparing Mr. Tennent a glance. “He’ll come back as soon as he’s run off his high spirits.”

      She glared at him. “How could you give him Duke to ride?” With a shake of her head, she turned away from Victor, pressing her lips together to keep from saying more. He’d hear about his irresponsible behavior later, she promised herself. “We need to get Mr. Tennent back. He’s hurt.” She leaned over him and drew in her breath at his ashen face. “Do you think, if we helped you mount, you could ride back atop Maud? We’ll take her reins. It’s just too far for you to walk if you’ve broken something.”

      “Yes…all right.” With a grimace, he began to sit up, still clutching his arm. Quickly, she put her arm around his shoulders to help him. “Victor, get on his other side. Let’s see if you can stand, Mr. Tennent.”

      Lucy stood behind the hedge, holding two of the horses, her face frightened. “Is he all right?”

      Alice made a quick decision. “Lucy, ride back and have them summon Dr. Baird. Quickly!”

      The girl did as she was told and hurried off.

      Alice turned back to Victor. “I’ll have Mr. Tennent ride in back of me. Help him mount once I’m in the saddle.”

      “But Alice—”

      Without waiting for Victor to finish his sentence, she led her horse through a break in the hedgerow and brought him to stand near the two men. At least Victor had helped Mr. Tennent up. Alice swung up onto her horse then looked down at Victor. “All right, see if he can mount behind me.”

      Victor bent down and cradled his hands for a foothold for the other man. With a sharp intake of breath, Mr. Tennent attempted to lift himself onto the back of her saddle. Alice twisted around to see if she could help pull him up, but he was managing to swing his leg over the horse’s rump. His stifled groans made her wince, but finally he settled on behind her.

      “Just hold on to me with your good arm.” Without asking his leave, she grasped it from behind her and brought it around her waist. “I’ll get us home as quickly as possible without jostling you more than necessary, I promise. Are you all right, sir?”

      “I’ll make it.”

      Without a word to Victor, Alice picked her way around the hedgerow and back down the path.

      Mr. Tennent said nothing more on the ride home, but she could hear his intake of breath each time his body was jarred. It’s all my fault, she thought, not knowing which was worse, taking a first-time rider on such an ambitious jaunt or not stopping Victor. Obviously he’d challenged poor Mr. Tennent to mount the gelding.

      “We’re almost there, Mr. Tennent,” she said, trying to keep her voice cheery. “See, there’s the rooftop already visible over the treetops.” At last they were going up the long drive. A couple of stable hands were waiting for them as soon as she pulled the horse to a stop in front of a house. At least Lucy had alerted them.

      “Help him down gently. He may have broken something.”

      “Yes, miss.” John, an able-bodied stable hand raised his arms to help Mr. Tennent down. “Have no worry, we’ll get you down. What happened?”

      “He took a spill and landed on his side. One arm is injured.”

      Once on the ground, Mr. Tennent remained hunched over, cradling his arm.

      Alice swung down from her horse and handed the reins to the other groom. She turned immediately to Mr. Tennent and gasped at the sight of his pale face. “John, help him inside. I hope the doctor has been summoned.”

      “Yes, miss. Miss Lucy told us to have him fetched.”

      “Good. Come, Mr. Tennent, let’s get you where you can lie down.” She walked on his other side, a hand on his elbow.

      The servants stood gawking when they entered the house, lifting up a murmur as Alice led him to the nearest sofa. A maid brought a throw and the housekeeper piled pillows behind Mr. Tennent. Although he thanked the servants and didn’t complain, she could see he was in great pain.

      As if sensing her distress, he looked up at her, one corner of his lips lifting. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

      She drew near, kneeling beside the sofa. “Oh, Mr. Tennent, I’m so sorry this had to happen.”

      He shook his head briefly and reached out his good hand to her. “Don’t upset yourself. It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

      Finally Dr. Baird arrived. The elderly doctor set down his bag and looked Mr. Tennent up and down through his spectacles. “Well, young man, what have you been up to?”

      “Falling off horses,” he said through a grimace, as he began to swing his legs off the sofa.

      “There now, hold still before you do yourself more harm.” The doctor helped him sit up and motioned to one of the servants. “Get his coat off.” Mr. Tennent flinched as the arm of his coat was gently slipped off. Alice bit her lip, cringing with each jar and jostle of his shoulder.

      The doctor took Mr. Tennent’s chin in his hand and tilted it upward. “Scraped yourself good there, I see. Bring me some soap and water and be quick about it,” he told a servant, then proceeded to poke and prod Mr. Tennent’s shoulder. “Humph. Hurt, does it? And there?”

      After a few more hmms and humphs, he straightened and peered over his spectacles. “Good news. It looks like your shoulder isn’t dislocated. Just a fractured clavicle.” At the question in the other man’s eyes, he cleared his throat. “Your collarbone is broken. You’ll have to bear up a bit longer while I set it. Now, where else does it hurt?”

      Mr. Tennent indicated his side with his hand.

      He had the servant remove his vest then palpated some more through his shirt. “Your ribs don’t appear broken, but I’ll have to do a more thorough examination.” He turned to the others in the room. “Why don’t you leave us alone, so the young gentleman doesn’t feel he might disgrace

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