page_69 < previous page page_69 next page > Page 69 way of blinding one to the truth. Phoebe's adoration attested to that. She coughed, covering her mouth with her hand. He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. "You are probably catching cold. That's what happens when you go around tumbling into pits." "Thank you." She sniffed and dabbed at her nose with the white linen. "How is your wrist?" She lifted her left hand, showing him the white linen bandage wrapped around her arm. "The doctor said it isn't broken. Just bruised." "You are a very lucky girl." She smiled. "I am lucky you were here to rescue me. I was hoping you might come to Belle's rescue the way you came to mine this morning." Justin stiffened. "What the devil do you mean? What has happened to her?" "Oh, she is all right. It's just our cousin Gerard. Gerard Witheridge. His father was the one who inherited Bramsleigh. Only he didn't want it, since he has a big house of his own in Hampshire, so he gave it to Gerard. And Gerard keeps bothering Isabel." Justin set his jaw. "How is he bothering her?" "He keeps trying to convince Belle to marry him." An odd emotion coiled inside Justin at the thought of Isabel with another man. He curled his hands into fists against the green wool covering the arms of the chair. "He wants to marry your sister, does he?" "He certainly does. I thought you could scare him away. I'm sure he would leave if you just gave him a severe look." Phoebe narrowed her eyes and sent him a dark glance, mimicking one of his quelling looks. "You're so very good at it." "Thank you. I practice." "Really?" Â < previous page page_69 next page >