Sinful by Susan Johnson

Author:Susan Johnson
Language: ron
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

They managed to elude the Fergusson pursuit by their circuitous route, unable to outdistance them with speed. By necessity they traveled often at night and very slowly in an attempt to cause no more damage to Sinjin's shoulder. And they arrived at Sinjin's hunting box in Hatton on the morning of the

seventh day from Rattray Head.

Sinjin was carried in on a newly constructed stretcher, the housekeeper and staff told only that Sinjin had suffered his wound while out hunting. But his Bedouin grooms were deployed about the grounds of the smal estate around the clock, a feet duly noted by the permanent residents of Sinjin's

household.

None questioned the strange ways of their lord, though, for he paid them handsomely, al owed them time off for al the rural holidays and never lost his temper or beat them. Also, some of the older members of the staff had known Sinjin's father, so the oddities of the St. Johns were accepted, like the

madness of the Townshends and the eccentricities of the Herveys.

Anyone who employed so many desert heathens had to be considered, even without a mysterious "hunting" wound, a man of irregular habits. And

additional y, Sinjin had brought enough hunting companions of both sexes up to Hat-ton over the years for his staff to be inured to the wild ways of their young lord.

The next week consisted of continuing and punctilious care of Sinjin's infected wound. With vigilance and constant poultices of chamomile oil, garlic juice, sage leaves and yarrow, with nourishing liquids coaxed down his throat, with substantial applications of thyme oil to the festering wounds, Sinjin's

condition stabilized. The opium al owed him to dwel in a world without pain while Sahar and Seneca, with Chelsea's help, nursed him in relays.

Late in the afternoon of the eighth day since their arrival at Hatton, Sinjin opened his eyes for the first time with any recognition and spoke to his friend Seneca. "In my considered opinion," he softly drawled, "the worst is over." His grin was shaky, but touched with his familiar impudence. His eyes, although veiled with the effects of opium, glittered not with fever but with good cheer.

"And you should know," his friend happily replied, reaching over immediately to touch Sinjin's forehead with his palm. His brows rose in a mild judgment.

"Better," he briefly said, but the fever was by no means gone.

"I need food." Sinjin grinned. "The women wil have to come later…"

"You must be on the mend." Seneca's handsome fece broke into a wide smile. "But let's take this one slow step at a time.

Sinjin laughed, the sound very close to normal. "As long as the first slow step is in the form of a beef roast with potatoes and peas. Where are we?" he abruptly inquired, wondering which of his chefs was in residence.

"We're at Hatton."

"That's a long way from London."

"But a shorter run from Rattray Head." And he watched his friend's expression change, Sinjin's smile wiped from his fece.

"I'd forgotten the reason for this," he said, his voice suddenly chil as he attempted to lift his left arm.

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