Daniel stared at him for several seconds, then said, “Oh, for God’s sake, you’re not blaming yourself, are you?”

Hugh did not reply.

One of Daniel’s hands waved forth in question. “How could you have caught her?”

Hugh gripped the edge of the bar.

“Bloody hell,” Daniel muttered. “It’s not always about your leg. I probably would have missed, too.”

“No,” Hugh spat. “You would not have missed.”

Daniel was quiet for a moment, then said, “Her sisters were squabbling. Apparently one of them knocked into her inside the carriage. That was why she fell.”

It didn’t really matter why she fell, Hugh thought, and he took another drink.

“So it was really more like she was thrown.”

Hugh hauled his attention off his drink for long enough to snarl, “Do you have a point?”

“She must have come from the carriage with considerable force,” Daniel said, and Hugh supposed he was speaking in a patient voice. But Hugh wasn’t in the mood to give points for patience. He was in the mood to drink, and to feel sorry for himself, and snap the head off whoever was stupid enough to approach. He finished his ale, slammed the mug down, and signaled for another. The innkeeper was quick to comply.

“Are you sure you want to drink that?” Daniel asked.

“Quite.”

“I seem to recall,” Daniel said in an excruciatingly quiet voice, “you once telling me you did not drink until nightfall.”

Did Daniel think Hugh had forgotten? Did he think Hugh would have sat here and downed pint after pint of bad ale if there were any other way to kill the pain? It wasn’t just his leg this time. Bloody hell, how was he supposed to be a man when his goddamned leg couldn’t hold him up?

Hugh felt his heart quicken with fury, and he heard his breath turn to short, angry puffs. There were a hundred different things he could have said to Daniel in that moment, but only one truly expressed what he felt.

“Piss off.”

There was a very long silence, then Daniel stepped down from the stool. “You are in no state to ride the rest of the day in a carriage with my young cousins.”

Hugh curled his lip. “Why the hell do you think I’m drinking?”

“I am going to pretend you did not say that,” Daniel said quietly, “and I suggest that when you’re sober you do the same.” He walked to the door. “We leave in one hour. I will have someone inform you which carriage you may ride in.”

“Just leave me,” Hugh said. Why not? He didn’t need to be at Whipple Hill right away. He could bloody well marinate at the Rose and Crown for the week.

Daniel smiled humorlessly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”