Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 08] - Sanguinet's Crown Read Online Free

the
foolishness of panic to pull the severed edges of the fabric back
together.
    "What in…hell…?"
    Charity gave a little shriek. Mr. Mitchell's dark head was
turning to her. "Do not move!" she shrilled.
    "The devil I won't!" He tried to sit up, but abruptly subsided.
    With her heart fluttering, Charity grasped the sword and
completed her desecration of the jacket.
    "Madam," said Mitchell, faint but determined, "whatever it is
that you… attempt, desist!"
    Whatever she attempted
? What did he
think
she attempted? But she knew all too well! Horribly embarrassed, she
nonetheless investigated further. His shirt was wet with blood and
slashed from the area of his spine across to the left side, just below
his shoulder blade. Still wondering how such a wound could possibly
have been inflicted during a duel, Charity slipped the sword under the
fine cambric, made a long slit, and laid the sword aside. She spread
the shirt apart and stared, suddenly very cold. The gash was quite deep
and had bled profusely, but it was not the wound that caused her heart
to all but stop. The muscular back she gazed at was a mass of scars,
the criss-crossing ridges leaving no room for doubt that at some time
in the not too distant past this man had been flogged half to death.
Very few crimes, she knew, could cause such punishment to be inflicted
upon an aristocrat, and she shrank back in revulsion. Small wonder he
had not wanted her help!
    A derisive chuckle brought her eyes flashing to meet his.
"Well," he sneered, "and what have you decided, Madam Prim? Did I
murder my mother? Or violate my baby sister, perhaps?"
    The words were as contemptuous as they were disgraceful. Her
disgust of him flared, but there was a pinched look about the thin
nostrils now, and for all their mockery, his eyes were dulled. Charity
pulled herself together. Whatever his offence, he was injured and in
pain.
    She said quietly, "Both, I fancy. Only lie still, sir, and I
shall do what I may to help you.''

Chapter 2
    Despite her limited experience in the actual treatment of
wounds, Charity knew that it was imperative the bleeding be stopped as
soon as possible. To this end, she appropriated Mr. Mitchell's
neckcloth, formed it into a pad, and placed it over the wound. Peering
over his shoulder to watch these procedures, her patient said, "That
won't serve. You shall have to tie it." His eyes glinted at her with
fiendish enjoyment. "You must now tear a flounce from your petticoat.
If you will hand me my sword, I'll be glad to assist."
    She ignored him, unwound the sash from her gown, and said with
cool self-possession that if he could contrive to sit up, she would
manage.
    He sighed in disappointment, but complied. It was inevitable
that she should come very close to him as she performed her acts of
mercy. His body reminded her of her brother. Like Justin, he carried
not an ounce of fat. The muscles rippled smoothly when he moved. The
hair on his chest was thick and very dark. She averted her eyes, her
cheeks hot.
    Amused, he said, "You are blushing, ma'am. But I'll say one
thing for you, the sight of blood don't reduce you to blancmange, as it
does most females."
    "You are too good," she murmured. The blood was still seeping
from under her impromptu pad, and there was only one way to stop it.
"I'm sorry, but I must tighten this." Nerving herself, she gave a sharp
tug at the sash she had wound about him. There was a hiss of indrawn
breath, but not a sound escaped him. Despite this stoicism, when she
asked him to put a finger on the knot she was tying, his hand shook and
he stared down blankly at the makeshift bandage. She wondered uneasily
if he would be able to climb into the saddle, and had seldom been more
relieved than when the thud of hooves announced Best's return.
    The groom reined up and dismounted with leap. ''What on earth
happened, Miss Charity?" he asked, running to her in considerable
agitation.
    "The lady was good enough to help me," said Mitchell, reaching
for