The Village Spinster Read Online Free Page A

should keep her warm because of the shock. You’ll find a blanket in the closet at the head of the stairs.” She seemed to recollect herself. “Or you may wait a moment and Meg will get it. If Jimmy isn’t off somewhere, she won’t be long.”
    Lord Kinsford didn’t hesitate. “I’ll get the blanket.”
    She nodded and tucked a stray curl of brown hair up under her cap as she pushed through the door to the back hall. Kinsford frowned down at his sister briefly, then moved to the front hall. Just as he began to climb the stairs, there was a knock at the door. Realizing that Meg was out of the house and Miss Driscoll in the kitchen, he returned to open the door.
    “The new butler, I presume,” said the young man who stood there, his eyes twinkling. “My own butler generally wears a coat and neckcloth, which I believe my wife insists upon. Miss Driscoll, however, is singular enough to have a butler who answers the door in his shirtsleeves,” the fellow mused. “Is she home, by any chance?”
    Lord Kinsford gave the man a stony look. “Miss Driscoll is occupied at the moment. Please call another time.” He began to close the door.
    “Here now! Tell her Mr. Traling is here. I’m sure she’ll see me. We’re quite good friends.”
    “You are, are you? Then you may wait in the hall until she’s free to speak with you.” Beneath his breath he muttered “impertinent young pup” as he took the stairs two at a time. There were several blankets in the closet and Kinsford decided to bring all of them. He threw a black look at the fellow still standing in the hall when he returned downstairs.
    “Is there some difficulty? Perhaps I could help,” the man suggested, though diffidently.
    His lordship dismissed him curtly. “I very much doubt it.”
    He carried the blankets into the sitting room, not realizing that the young man had followed him until the fellow said, “My word! She’s not dead, is she?”
    Kinsford gave him a fulminating look but just then Miss Driscoll appeared in the doorway with a steaming flannel. “Mr. Traling,” she said when her gaze fell on the newcomer. “I had no idea you were here. We’re a bit disorganized at present. I’m afraid I shan’t be able to talk with you."
    As Kinsford tucked the blankets around his sister’s still form, he was annoyed to see that Traling showed no sign of taking the hint.
    “Two blankets will make her too hot,” Traling said. “It’s a warm day.”
    The earl glared at him, but Miss Driscoll merely shook her head. “Not to worry. The doctor will be here soon, and Lord Kinsford has already seen to the dislocated shoulder.”
    “Is this the artist?” Mr. Traling asked Miss Driscoll. “I recognize her from your drawing.”
    “Yes.” Clarissa placed the warm poultice over the swollen and bruised area of the girl’s head. “And this is her older brother, the Earl of Kinsford. Lord Kinsford, Mr. Steven Traling.”
    “Very pleased to meet you, my lord.” Mr. Traling held out his hand, which it seemed for a moment the earl would refuse. After a barely acceptable pause, Kinsford shook hands peremptorily, his eyes narrowed first at Traling and then at Miss Driscoll, who ignored his inspection.
    Lady Aria was coming around now, making little mewling sounds like a kitten. The two men turned to look at the girl, Traling with curiosity and Kinsford with concern. Clarissa soothed the girl’s forehead. “You’re here with me, dear,” she said softly. “At Miss Driscoll’s house. Your brother has brought you after a riding accident.”
    Lady Aria blinked her eyes open but allowed them to drift shut again with a moan. Kinsford’s hands clenched at his sides. “I really think Mr. Traling will be in the way when the doctor comes,” he said.
    “I think I’ve missed the worst of it, if you’ve already fixed her dislocated shoulder,” Mr. Traling mused. “Once, when I was a small lad, I dislocated my shoulder and it was incredibly painful when the