Honoria nodded and was about to say something utterly
forgettable when she saw that his hand had been bandaged.
“I hope your injury is not severe,” she said politely.
“Oh, this?” he held up his hand. His fingers were free to waggle,
but the rest of it looked rather like a mitt. “It’s nothing. An
altercation with a letter opener.”
“Well, please do be careful of infection,” Honoria said,
somewhat more forcefully than was de rigueur. “If it grows red, or
swollen, or even worse, yellow, then you must see a doctor at
once.”
“Green?” he quipped.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You listed so many colors about which I must be wary.”
For a moment Honoria could only stare. Wound infection was
not a laughing matter.
“Lady Honoria?” he murmured.
She decided to proceed as if he’d said nothing. “Most
importantly, you must watch for reddish streaks spreading from the
wound. Those are the worst.”
He blinked, but if he was startled by the turn of the
conversation, he did not show it. Instead he looked down at his
hand with a curious eye and said, “How red?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“How red do the streaks have to be before I must worry?”
“How do you know so much about medicine?” Lady Danbury
cut in.
“Do you know, I’m not sure how red,” Honoria told Mr.
Bridgerton. “I would think anything stripey ought to be a cause for
alarm.

Autor: Julia Quinn