The Man in the Green Coat Read Online Free Page B

forward to loosen her none-too-clean neck-cloth, and she opened her eyes and smiled at him.
    “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything. You are very kind to come to the rescue of perfect strangers.”
    For a moment he gazed at her unsmiling, then his stern mouth softened, giving his expression a curious vulnerability.
    “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Luke Everett. I must assure you that I do not make a practice of removing the clothing from young ladies to whom I have not been presented in form.”
    Her eyes danced. “Nor I of being carried into unfamiliar bedchambers by gentlemen with whom I am unacquainted. I am Gabrielle Darcy, sir, and this poor suffering soul is my brother Gerard.”
    Gerard looked up, gave a sickly grin, and returned to the contemplation of his own misery.
    “If I might make a suggestion, Miss Darcy, I should not be too free with your name. It might prove embarrassing at some future moment, considering the—ah—circumstances of your arrival.”
    “You refer to my dress, I take it. I expect you are right. We are but now come from France, Mr Everett, and have had such adventures on the way!”
    “The evidence of that is plain before me, ma’am. Ah, Baxter, bring the bowl here, if you please. You see the fabric is stuck and I must soak it off. Miss Darcy, I fear this may be painful.”
    “Merely breathing is painful, sir. Pray don’t mind me.”
    He took her hand and squeezed it, then wet the cloth and laid it on her side. After several applications, he began to ease off the patch of her shirt he had cut loose. Gabrielle squeaked.
    He stopped at once. Her eyes were screwed shut, her fists clenched, but she murmured, “Go on. Finish it.”
    The rest came off more easily. Mr Everett looked at the wound and shook his head.
    “It appears to be considerably swollen. I fear the bullet may still be there. Where the devil is that doctor? Baxter, go and make sure Colby sent for him.”
    Before the servant could go about his errand, there was a knock at the door and it was flung open. Framed in the doorway stood a huge woman, mop cap askew, wheezily trying to catch her breath. Her triple chin shook with the effort. Behind her, a tall, thin man tried in vain to push around her.
    “You should stay in the kitchen, Mrs Colby, you should stay in the kitchen,” he admonished. “Climbing stairs is excessively bad for you. Let me pass, I say, let me pass.”
    The innkeeper’s wife recovered enough to gaze around the room.
    “What’s all this carryin’ on then, Mr Everett?” she demanded breathlessly. “I runs a respectable house, I does.”
    “Get on with you, woman, you have known me for years. Do you still harbour doubts about my respectability?”
    “Nay, sir, but I hear there be a young woman in here without an abigail, and I cannot spare a chambermaid to sit with her, the house being so full and all.”
    “The young lady’s brother is here; you need not fear for her reputation. But for her life, perhaps, if your husband has not sent for a doctor.”
    “Which he has done. Let be, doctor! Push, push, push till I don’t know if I’m on my head or my heels. I’m moving quick as I can.”
    Apparently deciding the chamber was already too full, Mrs Colby lumbered backwards into the passage and the tall, thin man darted in.
    “Dr Hargreaves, sir, Dr Hargreaves. What seems to be the problem now? Aha, the young lady has been shot, has she? She’s been shot?” He put down his green cloth bag on the foot of the bed and peered at Gabrielle’s side. “Nasty,” he decided, “nasty. Bullet’s still in there, don’t you know, still in there. Have to get it out or it won’t heal properly, get infected, finis, as you might say.”
    Gabrielle’s eyes flew to Mr Everett’s face. He took her hand and held it in a comforting grasp as the doctor fumbled in his bag. Gerard staggered to his feet.
    “What are you going to do?” he asked belligerently.
    “Have to cut