They didn’t stay too much longer. The student nurse filled the papier mache container with water and placed it on my bedside table. St John, his cheeks pinked with embarrassment, arranged the flowers. I thought his reaction was delightful, and my smile must have revealed as much, because Dorincourt growled, bringing my attention to him. He rested his hand on St John’s hip, the action stating more clearly than words: mine.
I shook my head. I was almost twice St John’s age, and what Dorincourt thought I could do with a leg in plaster had me at a loss.
“My dear?” St John completely missed the undercurrents.
“We’d better leave. Sister warned us about tiring Tanner.”
“Of course.” He turned that green gaze to me. “I hope you have a speedy recovery.”
“Thank you for stopping by. I was getting
