Truly a Wife by Rebecca Hagan Lee

Author:Rebecca Hagan Lee [Lee, Rebecca Hagan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

“Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.”

—William Shakespeare, 1564–1616

Romeo and Juliet

“Pastel thread?” Daniel watched Miranda remove the bandage from his side to reveal a long S-shaped gash, two or three inches of which were stitched in sky-blue thread. “You sewed me up with pastel thread?” Thank God Malden couldn’t see that!

She bit her bottom lip at the sight of his injury. The area around the gunshot wound was bruised, and the bruise had turned from dark red to an angry blue-and-purple color. Miranda untied the bandage and removed it, immensely relieved to find the linen clean and fresh. The ugly gash was about five inches long and marked a line from his ribs to his abdomen. The neat blue stitching she’d done on him had held, and although the wound was an angry pink color, there was no sign of infection.

“Be glad I sewed you up at all,” Miranda defended her actions and her choice of thread. “And be thankful that I found silk, because according to Alyssa, it works best.” She gave him a quelling look. “Or would you rather have had pink?”

“You couldn’t match Mistress Beekins’s serviceable black? Don’t they make silk thread in black?”

“I’m sure they do, Your Grace,” Miranda snapped, “but beggars cannot be choosers. I was only able to find one sewing basket in this house, and it contained a limited supply of silk thread.” She turned away and picked up the bar of soap she’d used the night before and a clean cloth, and dipped them into the basin she’d filled with water from the bathing room tap. “I chose blue because it matches your blood, and because I thought you would rather have blue silk stitches than stitches the color of this room.” She wet and soaped the cloth, then wrung out the excess water and pressed it against Daniel’s side.

He sucked in a breath. “Blast it, Miranda! That’s cold!”

“As cold as your heart, Your Grace?” Miranda asked in a sickly sweet tone of voice. “Could mere water be that cold?”

Daniel blinked. “I’ve no idea what you mean.”

“Then allow me to make it clear for you, Your Grace,” Miranda continued, diligently bathing the wound, pleased to see that her blue stitches had held and that while there had been a bit of drainage, the bleeding had stopped. “Might it be possible that you’ve become so spoiled by your lofty title that you have no consideration for lesser beings?”

“Might it have been possible for you to set the basin near the fire to warm the water?” he inquired just as sweetly. “Because your ill-tempered accusation couldn’t be further from the truth.” He winced as Miranda scrubbed a bit harder with the soapy cloth than was necessary.

“You couldn’t prove it by me.” Miranda looked down at him. “ ‘You sewed me up with pastel thread?’ ” she repeated, mimicking his tone. “ ‘You couldn’t match Mistress Beekins’s serviceable black? Don’t they make silk thread in black?’ Do you have any idea how

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