
“No, I am—”
“There is a poultice I can make for you that will soothe it. I shall give it to your man later.”
He wanted to say that he was well and in no need of any poultices, but Miranda was well known for her skill in the stillroom and sickroom. If it would indeed ease the pain, he ought not to indulge his pride and act like a muttonhead. Say thank you, Gerard. “Er … thank you, Miranda.”
“You are welcome.”
No fussing. No censure. Just a poultice for his knee. Miranda put him at ease like no one else had cared to do.
—From The Spinster's Christmas
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