Page 59 of A Well-Trained Lady

Shifting my hand out of view, I gestured for Sarah’s aid. “Will you please help Ruth to sit while I go to my room for a piece of linen?”

Sarah nodded, and though her face was nearly as ashen as her cousin’s, she assisted Ruth back to the settee.

I glanced down at the ground to make certain I had managed to contain the blood thus far. Though it was not Axminster carpet beneath my feet, even a Wilton should not have its repeated pattern soiled by red droplets, especially one of this lighter blue shade. When my eyes lifted, their terrified expressions were still on me. I offered one last smile of appeasement. “I shall dress this and be back shortly.”

Hurrying into the entry hall, I began up the stairs when heavy footsteps echoed behind me.

“Bella.”

I paused, concealing my hand behind my skirts. I had no desire for Augustus to catch sight of my folly. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if I might have a word?”

I glanced down at my finger, the pain increasing a touch more with each beat of my heart. “Can it wait? I was just headed to my room. I should not be long.”

Augustus started up the stairs, a grin on his face. “What are you hiding?”

I angled my body away from him as he neared. “Nothing.”

“Shall I guess?”

Well aware he would not soon relent, I brandished my hand.

His eyes moved from the small amount of blood now accumulating in my cupped hand to my face. “What the deuce happened?”

I started up the stairs again. “Just a slight clip with some sewing shears. I didn’t have anything to wrap about it, so it looks worse than it is.”

He caught up with me and reached for my hand. “Let me see it.”

“I’m quite capable of dressing something as minor as this.”

He laughed and shook his head, bounding ahead of me before turning to barricade my way up. “It is not you I’m concerned for, but the preservation of our carpets along the corridor.” He winked and reached out his hand. “Now, let me see the damage.”

I gave an audible huff to make certain he knew of my vexation, then held out my injured finger. He descended a step and took hold of my hand, cradling it in his. The tenderness of his touch and the warmth of his skin on mine sent my heart racing, my finger throbbing with each pulsation. “See, it is nothing.”

“Though I believe there won’t be a need to call upon the surgeon, this is hardly nothing.” He tilted my hand from one side to the other to get a closer look. “You must be a very aggressive seamstress.”

I lifted an unimpressed brow. “Do let me know when you are finished insulting me so I can take care of the problem at hand.”

Augustus laughed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. “Problem at hand,” he repeated, shaking his head and pressing the linen into my palm to absorb the blood. “How do you manage to be witty even in distress?”

“Because I am not in distress.”

He lifted the now red-stained handkerchief and began wiping at the remaining blood along my finger with the clean portion. “Then why do you breathe like you are?”

It was only then that I noticed how quickly my chest was rising and falling, and the realization of my foolish reaction sent my cheeks ablaze. I closed my hand around the handkerchief and freed my hand from his. “Thank you. I believe I can manage from here.”

A side of Augustus’s mouth lifted. “But you have grown flush.” He descended a stair, so that we now stood next to one another, and placed a hand on my back, gesturing me forward. His closeness did nothing to calm me. “I had best see you to your room to make certain you don’t faint along the way. I know how ladies cannot abide the sight of blood.”

The sight of my blood had nothing to do with my current state, and I thought to say as much, but I was certain that was precisely what he wished me to do—thereby acknowledging that it was, in reality, him who had affected me so. Well, I would not. With new determination, I lifted my chin and began up the stairs again. “What was it you wished to speak to me about?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder in an attempt to appear unruffled.

He started up after me. “I believe I may possibly owe you an apology.”

I sent him a skeptical glance as he came to my side at the top. “You sound so certain of it.”

“Well, the truth is, I’m not entirely sure how I offended you. That is why I need you to clarify, so that I might beg your forgiveness.”

I scoffed. “I shall need more specifics than that, or you may find yourself apologizing for a myriad of things you had no intention of seeking my forgiveness for.” I shot him a playful smile, but he was not looking at me.