Chapter Twenty-Five
Sara began ripping a strip of linen from her petticoat, not bothering to wait for Tate to return.
“No, I imagine you were not expecting anyone at this late hour. Nor did I expect to meet anyone here. Why are you not in London at Vauxhall Gardens?”
“I had work to do here—matters which required my attention. Might I ask the same of you?”
“Oh, er... hold still.” She began winding the cloth around his still bleeding foot.
Reath gritted his teeth to stop from groaning in pain.
Tate came back in with more linen. After handing the strips to Sara, he said, “I’ll just go fer the doctor, then, milord.”
“Yes, and be quick about it,” growled Reath, as Sara continued to wind the linen around his now throbbing foot.
After she had finished her bandaging, Sara did not look up
