Mr. Worthington felt no such restraint. "Strap him down."

Mrs. Orren looked appalled, but Shepherd Orren nodded sagely. "Aye. Nothing less would hold me down as a lad. I'll get a bit of soft rope from the barn."

On one hand, Gemma was relieved to have had the notion so easily accepted by the man. On the other hand, she had to wonder if the radical advice would've taken root when uttered by a woman.

She latched her medicine case closed. It was only then that she once more became aware of the throbbing pain lancing up her arm from her injured wrist. She was sure she had not made a sound, but in an instant Mr. Worthington was at her side, helping her to stand. He hefted the heavy medicine case with one hand and kept the other firmly under her elbow as they left the cottage.

Shepherd Orren relighted their lanterns. Mrs. Orren and the rest of the Orren children assembled on the steps to wave them away.

Gemma slumped on the seat of the cart with her good hand cradling her arm to absorb the jostling of the cart. She knew that they would be watched until the group in the door could no longer hear the clopping of Bad Pony's hooves on the lane.

CHAPTER 14

Chapter 14

THE WAR PONY GAVE Lysander no trouble at all on the drive back to the manor. The lanterns showed them the paler strip of road clear before them. The dale rang with silence. Even the birds had long gone to bed. There was no noise at all but the clop of Bad Pony's hooves on the packed soil and the creak and jostle of the cart. Lysander felt passable. Adequate. Something unfortunate had happened and he had been called upon, and instead of losing control, he had done well. Gemma had smiled at him in that wonderful way she had.

Mrs. Oakes. She was Mrs. Oakes and her smile had been naught but her own relief and pleasure at a job well done. Not for him.

Still, it was a notable occurrence. People, especially ladies, did not often look upon him and smile. He was well aware that his demeanor distressed people. He wasn't precisely sure what he was doing that was so alarming, although once Elektra had told him that he seemed to exist a mere instant away from darkness and destruction.

He hadn't been able to explain to her that the destruction she spoke of was still close behind him, breathing down his neck. It had followed him home from the Peninsula like a starving wolf followed a man in a winter forest.