Chapter Thirty
Lucas wanted to stay with Tom, but he climbed into the carriage with Tish and Reid and the constable and went to the Golden Hind instead. The horse he’d hired trotted wearily behind on a long line. He sat gripping his hands tightly together, his right leg jittering, his heel drumming a fast, jerky rhythm on the floor, tap-tap-tap. He forced himself to stop the movement. Tom’s going to be all right, he told himself, but he wasn’t sure he believed it.
“It was his right hand,” he said. “He’s right-handed.”
Tish slipped her arm through his, and laid both her hands over his. “He’s going to be all right, Lucas.”
His foot was tapping again. “What if he can’t paint again?”
“Lucas, don’t borrow trouble.” Tish leaned her cheek against his shoulder.
He tried to breathe calmly, tr
