Her words were drowned out by Lydia’s screams as Iris hurtled straight towards them. Archer let out a stream of curses and practically flew. He arrived just in time to see Lydia hurl herself against Iris, flinging his niece to safety.
And then the river took his wife.
“Dash! What are you doing?” Cora called as Archer hurled off his coat and kicked off his shoes.
“Get Iris. Keep her away from the edge.” He gave his sister a look. “I am going to get my wife.”
He plunged into the icy water. He had been prepared for the cold, but still, he felt it seize him like a vice. He struck out, catching sight of a sky-blue thing floating in front of him.
Lydia.
She wasn’t moving. Archer swam towards her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up, up. His head breached the surface, the cold air like thousands of knives in his lungs. He gritted his teeth and swam to the shore.
“Uncle?” Iris was standing close by, shivering and afraid. “Uncle, is Auntie Lydia?—”
“Where the hell is Cora?” Archer looked around, searching for his sister.
“Here.” She had freed Jezabell from the Phaeton and was leading the horse carefully towards them. “We need to get her home, and riding will be the fastest.”
“What about Iris?” Archer asked, looking at his trembling niece.
“She is frightened, but she did not fall in. I’ll take her to the stables, and we’ll ride home after you.” Cora looked at Lydia, her mouth set in a firm line.
Archer nodded, handing his sister his wife briefly, so he could swing up onto Jezabel. She handed Lydia to him, and then he was galloping back towards the estate.
“Stay with me, Lydia; please my darling, stay with me.” Archer hugged her cold body to him; her breathing was shallow but still there.
He rode right up to the steps, leaping down from the horse with Lydia in his arms. Juliet appeared, her eyes wide. “What happened?”
“Get the doctor, now,” Archer roared.
“There is a fire in the drawing room, Your Grace.” Dotty appeared. “And I’ll have more logs brought.”
Archer sprinted towards the drawing room. “Bring me blankets.”
“There are some already waiting, Your Grace, but I’ll fetch more, and something to dress her in.” Dotty sprinted away.
Archer laid Lydia on the floor as close to the fire as he could get. Her lips were blue. Her wet hair clung to her face. “I’m sorry to do this.”
He tore off her clothes, barely noticing what he was doing, just desperate to get his wife warm and dry. He bundled her into the blankets, gently rubbing her arms as he babbled inanely at her.
“If you come back to me, I swear that I will spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her forehead.
“Archer, you’re soaking wet too. You need to” Juliet began but Archer cut her off.
“I will not leave her, Juliet. I let her go once already, and I have learned my damn lesson. I only pray it is not too late.”
The sound of horses’ hooves signaled the arrival of Cora and Iris. “Take Iris upstairs. I do not… I do not want her seeing Lydia until she looks more like herself.”
“Archer….” Lydia murmured, and his heart leapt. “Yes, Lydia. I’m here. I’m right here.”
He pressed her fingertips to his lips, kissing her icy skin. “Come back to me please. I will never let you go again.”
“Wet… dog…” Lydia wrinkled her nose, and then she faded once more.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“What is that smell?” Lydia’s eyes flickered open, and she looked around.
