Ruth Axtell Morren - A Man Most Worthy

Victor bent down and cradled his hands for a foothold for the other man. With a sharp intake of breath, Mr. Tennent attempted to lift himself onto the back of her saddle. Alice twisted around to see if she could help pull him up, but he was managing to swing his leg over the horse’s rump. His stifled groans made her wince, but finally he settled on behind her.

“Just hold on to me with your good arm.” Without asking his leave, she grasped it from behind her and brought it around her waist. “I’ll get us home as quickly as possible without jostling you more than necessary, I promise. Are you all right, sir?”

“I’ll make it.”

Without a word to Victor, Alice picked her way around the hedgerow and back down the path.

Mr. Tennent said nothing more on the ride home, but she could hear his intake of breath each time his body was jarred. It’s all my fault, she thought, not knowing which was worse, taking a first-time rider on such an ambitious jaunt or not stopping Victor. Obviously he’d challenged poor Mr. Tennent to mount the gelding.

“We’re almost there, Mr. Tennent,” she said, trying to keep her voice cheery. “See, there’s the rooftop already visible over the treetops.” At last they were going up the long drive. A couple of stable hands were waiting for them as soon as she pulled the horse to a stop in front of a house. At least Lucy had alerted them.

“Help him down gently. He may have broken something.”

“Yes, miss.” John, an able-bodied stable hand raised his arms to help Mr. Tennent down. “Have no worry, we’ll get you down. What happened?”

“He took a spill and landed on his side. One arm is injured.”

Once on the ground, Mr. Tennent remained hunched over, cradling his arm.

Alice swung down from her horse and handed the reins to the other groom. She turned immediately to Mr. Tennent and gasped at the sight of his pale face. “John, help him inside. I hope the doctor has been summoned.”

“Yes, miss. Miss Lucy told us to have him fetched.”

“Good. Come, Mr. Tennent, let’s get you where you can lie down.” She walked on his other side, a hand on his elbow.

The servants stood gawking when they entered the house, lifting up a murmur as Alice led him to the nearest sofa. A maid brought a throw and the housekeeper piled pillows behind Mr. Tennent. Although he thanked the servants and didn’t complain, she could see he was in great pain.

As if sensing her distress, he looked up at her, one corner of his lips lifting. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

She drew near, kneeling beside the sofa. “Oh, Mr. Tennent, I’m so sorry this had to happen.”

He shook his head briefly and reached out his good hand to her. “Don’t upset yourself. It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

Finally Dr. Baird arrived. The elderly doctor set down his bag and looked Mr. Tennent up and down through his spectacles. “Well, young man, what have you been up to?”

“Falling off horses,” he said through a grimace, as he began to swing his legs off the sofa.

“There now, hold still before you do yourself more harm.” The doctor helped him sit up and motioned to one of the servants. “Get his coat off.” Mr. Tennent flinched as the arm of his coat was gently slipped off. Alice bit her lip, cringing with each jar and jostle of his shoulder.

The doctor took Mr. Tennent’s chin in his hand and tilted it upward. “Scraped yourself good there, I see. Bring me some soap and water and be quick about it,” he told a servant, then proceeded to poke and prod Mr. Tennent’s shoulder. “Humph. Hurt, does it? And there?”

After a few more hmms and humphs, he straightened and peered over his spectacles. “Good news. It looks like your shoulder isn’t dislocated. Just a fractured clavicle.” At the question in the other man’s eyes, he cleared his throat. “Your collarbone is broken. You’ll have to bear up a bit longer while I set it. Now, where else does it hurt?”

Mr. Tennent indicated his side with his hand.

He had the servant remove his vest then palpated some more through his shirt. “Your ribs don’t appear broken, but I’ll have to do a more thorough examination.” He turned to the others in the room. “Why don’t you leave us alone, so the young gentleman doesn’t feel he might disgrace himself before the ladies.” He turned to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Thorpe, a glass of water. I’ll give him something for the pain afterwards.”

The woman nodded her head. “Yes, sir.”

Alice left the room reluctantly.

After what seemed like ages, she was allowed back into the side parlor. Mr. Tennent, his shirt draped over his shoulders, had a sling around one arm and a wide layer of white bandaging across a good part of his chest. A square white gauze covered part of one cheek. He gave her a crooked smile.

She sat down beside him on the sofa. “Oh, Mr. Tennent, how is it? Are your ribs broken, too? Is it very painful?”

“A few bruised ribs, but I’ll live.”

“I’m so terribly sorry to have brought this about.”

He frowned at her. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do anything but help me. I was the one who behaved foolishly,” he said, turning away in disgust.

“Oh, no! It was I who should have stopped Victor.”

“It was stupid to take his offer.”

“Mr. Tennent, did you happen to notice what startled the horse so? The next thing we knew Duke was off at a gallop. Did something spook him?”

He eyed her a moment. “You didn’t see anything?”

She shook her head. “No, Lucy and I were in front of you. Tell me—”

Before she could finish her thought, she noticed Mr. Tennent looking past her.

“What’s going on here?”

She jumped at the sound of her father’s voice. He strode across the room and planted himself in front of Mr. Tennent, who stood immediately.

Alice joined him. “Oh, Papa, poor Mr. Tennent has had an accident. He was thrown by Duke.”

Her father looked his secretary up and down.

Alice touched his good arm. “You must sit down, Mr. Tennent. You’ve had an awful accident.”

Her father motioned for him to take his seat. The younger man hesitated but at her father’s impatient gesture, he finally complied.

“Mr. Tennent hadn’t been riding before, and Victor challenged him to ride Duke—”

Her father’s heavy brows drew together. “What the dickens did you mean going riding if you’ve never sat a horse?”

Alice interposed herself between her father and his employee. “Father! Didn’t you hear me? It’s my fault. I invited him to come along with us. It’s Sunday, after all, and I knew he wasn’t working. I had him ride Maud. You know Maud is the gentlest creature alive, but Victor played a very mean trick on Mr. Tennent—”

“Quiet, Alice, and let Mr. Tennent explain himself. I’m sure he doesn’t want to hide behind a schoolgirl’s skirts.”

She stopped, feeling herself color with shame. A schoolgirl’s skirts! He made it sound as if Mr. Tennent was some sort of coward and that she was—why, not even a young lady but a little girl!

Flushed with embarrassment, she moved away without a word. Surely, her father wouldn’t hold her defense of Mr. Tennent against the poor man. She chanced a glance at him and bit her lip at the set look on his face. Once again, he stood. His face was awfully pale, and she was afraid he might pass out. “Papa, Dr. Baird said—”

Her father flicked his hand once again. “Leave us, Alice.”

There was no use arguing with her father when he took that tone. With an audible sigh, she stepped back from the two men. Giving Mr. Tennent a last look of sympathy, she dragged her feet to the door, hoping she’d catch something of their conversation, but neither man said anything.