A Dream Rides By Read Online Free Page A

eyes smiled warmly at her, a deep blue with a hint of green in them, and his fair hair fell in a roguish wave over his broad forehead. It was his hair more than anything that Ling recognized, for the horseman on the moor had been bareheaded, unusual in anyone, let alone someone wealthy enough to be riding a horse. So perhaps he possessed some secret determination in his character that was not immediately apparent. All the more intriguing!
    ‘Are you sure, Mr . . . er . . . Dr . . .?’ Arthur questioned him. ‘I mean no offence, but you seem mighty young . . .’
    ‘Franfield, sir. Elliott Franfield. And you’re right. I’m not a doctor yet, just a medical student. But I have dealt with many a twisted ankle. Under supervision, of course, but it is a common injury, and I’m positive it isn’t broken. But it should be strapped up and rested as much as possible.’
    Ling was happily impressed. But, just then, a loud knock rapped on the door, and Ling looked up to see Mrs Warrington sweep into the waiting room like a whirlwind. The stunningly beautiful lady hurried across to Ling, her expressive face melting with relief.
    ‘Ling, my dear. When I heard it was you! And you must be the young man . . .’
    It seemed to Ling that the spacious room was suddenly filled with the woman’s presence, but that was Rose Warrington for you! Her violet-blue eyes darted from side to side as she looked from one face to the other, and then she squatted down on her heels by Ling’s side in the most unladylike fashion.
    ‘Oh, my dear child, I hope you’re not hurt!’
    ‘Just twisted my ankle,’ Ling answered easily. ‘Mr Franfield’s learning to be a doctor and he assures me it isn’t broken.’
    ‘Oh, what a relief!’ Ling saw Mrs Warrington glance at her bare foot, which was still resting in Elliott Franfield’s hand. ‘Well, it certainly doesn’t look like when my husband broke his ankle. Black and blue ’twas, and that swollen! My dearest, would you take a look?’ she called over her shoulder to the tall, lean gentleman lingering hesitantly in the doorway. ‘You must have been terrified, poor lamb,’ Mrs Warrington sympathized, turning back to Ling, and, a moment later, Mr Warrington and Elliott were exchanging words over Ling’s foot, asking her when it hurt as they carefully moved it this way and that.
    Ling herself was somewhat bewildered as she was being engaged in two conversations at once, but she felt compelled to answer Rose Warrington first. ‘Not really. It all happened too quickly. I remember falling and then the train coming. I must have fainted because I don’t remember anything else. The next I knew, I was in here and . . . and Mr Franfield was taking care of me.’ She turned her eyes back to the two men discussing her ankle, aware of the rush of colour into her cheeks as she looked at the younger of them and hoping no one else had noticed.
    ‘I saw plenty of twisted ankles in the army,’ Mr Warrington said, nodding, ‘and I agree with Mr Franfield that it just needs strapping. I’ll see if the stationmaster has a medical box.’
    He went outside, and Ling was almost disappointed when Elliott lowered her heel on to the floor again.
    ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have introduced myself. Rose Warrington,’ the good lady at once went on, holding out her gloved hand to the bemused Mr Franfield and shaking his heartily. ‘We live at Fencott Place, the other side of Princetown. Perhaps you know it?’
    ‘I’m afraid I don’t have that pleasure. I live in Tavistock and don’t usually venture so far on to the moor. And I’m afraid any spare time is spent with my head in a medical textbook. But I thought I would grant myself a day’s leave and witness the magnificent sight of the railway arriving here in Princetown. And am I glad that I did!’ he concluded, turning his steady gaze on Ling once more and causing her to shiver with delight.
    ‘Arthur Southcott,’ her father introduced himself,