Page 10 of Watch For Me By Candlelight

The Hall? She swallowed. ‘I don’t often drink brandy. I prefer wine.’ It wasn’t a lie. She did.

‘Then you won’t know the difference,’ he said with a wink. ‘Here.’

She held her hand out and received an enamel mug with a little bit of amber liquid in the bottom. She really wanted to glug it all down in one, but she had a feeling that wasn’t very seemly, so she sipped at it, watching Will move about the room, fussing the dog here, adding logs to the fire there.

‘Please. Sit down yourself,’ she said, finally losing patience with him.

He looked startled. ‘Me? Sit down?’

‘Why ever not?’

‘It’s just . . .’ He shrugged. ‘It’s not “done” is it? Me sitting with a lady.’ He grinned. ‘And anyway — I don’t want to sit down because you gave me too much of a shock, and I can’t settle.’

‘I don’t give a damn what’s “done” and what’s not! I want you to sit down and tell me why my ankle hurts like hell!’

‘Miss Catriona!’ Will looked shocked. ‘I never thought I’d hear you use that sort of language!’ His eyes twinkled. He was teasing.

Catriona Aphrodite Tredegar. That was her name. The information hit her like a proverbial brick, straight into her consciousness. Aphrodite, disgustingly enough, because the story was she’d been conceived in Greece.

‘Just tell me, Will!’ Kate said again. ‘Stop teasing. It’s not funny. It’s never funny when you tease me.’ The words came too easily; he did this all the time. The knowledge made her feel faint — or the pain did. One of the two made her feel faint, anyway.

Kate pulled her skirt up and looked at her ankle. Dear God — what a mess. It was swollen to about three times the size and was black and blue. Her foot was at a really dodgy angle as well and this time she really did start to panic.

‘I’m not quite sure myself,’ he began. He sat, or perched rather, on the end of a chair. ‘I was taking Hector for his walk by the River and I just saw you fall. You came down with such a crack.’ Will shook his head. ‘I was fearful because you’d hit your head and now—’ He looked at her curiously. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, I think you might have done more damage than I thought. I’m going to get you seen to, just as soon as.’

Oh, well, a crack to the head was good. A crack to the head would be an excuse for her to have forgotten what she was doing here. She could work with that.

She rubbed her head as if it hurt and nodded, adding in a wince for good measure. ‘I think I did hit it, just a little maybe. Where? Where did I fall?’

‘On the river itself! Come on Cat, you must remember that!’

Cat? She’d never been nicknamed Cat in her life, but here it seemed to fit. She took another slug of brandy and blinked as her head went woozy. Perhaps she had hit it after all.

‘So what happened after I fell?’ The words tumbled out, as if she was trying to stop herself listening to her thoughts. The fear of what was really happening here had to be kept at bay and if she concentrated on Will, perhaps she could stop herself from panicking.

‘You really can’t remember?’ He looked at her curiously.

She shook her head; then she wished she hadn’t. It was hurting dreadfully. Kate pressed her forefingers to her temple and there was a definite swelling. ‘Um — do you have a mirror? So I can see if there’s a bruise?’

‘Certainly.’ He jumped up. ‘But you’ll not like what you see. I don’t like what I see.’ He went over to the wall and unhooked a little shaving mirror. He handed it to her and for a moment their fingertips connected. Kate made an involuntary little sound, and stared at him. She thought he might have felt it too, that little current of electricity, because he took a step backwards. His eyes widened and then he quickly looked away.

Kate cleared her throat and held the mirror up in front of her. She looked like Kate — she had the same face and everything, the same blue eyes and pale, freckled complexion, but her hair was different. It was all ornate and curly, piled up on top of her head but with strands coming loose around her cheeks.

‘Good grief,’ she murmured. She angled the mirror to take in her temple and sure enough there was a horrible bruise there and, she was gutted to see, a fairly nasty cut oozing blood. She swore under her breath and handed the mirror back to him. Shaking again, she lifted the enamel mug up, but it was empty. Reading her mind, Will took it from her and poured another little measure in. Kate took it back gratefully.

‘It’ll heal,’ he said. ‘I’m more worried about your leg. From what I saw, you managed to tie your legs up in a great big knot and just went down. You ripped your clothes too. It must have been the blades getting tangled. I’m surprised you didn’t crack the ice. It’s not often it freezes over that much.’

Kate plucked the torn skirt away again and stared at the offending limb. It really did look awful now.

‘So after I fell and hit my head?’ she prompted. ‘You brought me here? How? I obviously didn’t walk, did I?’

Will shook his head and there was a spark of amusement behind his eyes. ‘I helped you. I wish I’d had one of the horses down here. I could have slung you on its back and sent you on your way. It would have saved me the job of carrying you.’ He was clearly enjoying teasing her, but there was a look behind his eyes that told her his jokes were more about relief than banter.

And one of the horses? Well, they were in the blacksmith’s cottage so that kind of made sense. Come on, you know he’s the village blacksmith. The notion rushed into her consciousness. Of course he is! How silly of me to forget. I must have really bumped my head hard—

A flash of memory: I’m being carried across a frozen field, half-conscious, my leg dangling, the pain unbearable. My skates are broken; I’ve snapped the blade in two, on the one I’ve gone over on. The other blade just needs reattaching to the boot and—

The image was gone; but: