He expected Brian in the library by eleven. If he made it by then, he had risen, followed Donald’s instructions immediately and without question. Any earlier and Donald would know he skipped several steps in the process. Any later and the boy had lazed around, not anxious to please.
He heard a loud thump in the hall. Donald opened the pocket doors and found a red-faced Brian sitting on the bottom step rubbing his hip. “What happened?” he asked in a mild voice.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m not used to this type of sandal. I sort of tripped down the stairs,” Brian answered, his eyes downcast.
“Up with you now, boy,” Bear ordered. “Trousers down. Let’s see if there is any damage.”
Brian undid the drawstring and moved his pants down his legs, exposing his hip for Donald’s perusal. He gave Donald an earnest look. “I heal quickly. It’s nothing.”
“I will decide what is nothing, boy.” Donald examined the hip. “It’s going to be discolored tomorrow and hurt like hell.