There was no blood. Dirt and gravel and grass, but no blood.
“Ronan?” Isla said softly as she rose to her feet.
He twisted to face her. “What the devil happened?”
Her eyes widened in surprise at the vehemence of his tone. But he couldn’t think of apologizing with the way his heart raged. They stared at one as she folded her arms.
As her own expression firmed into something serious, Isla said, “There is no need to take that tone with me. He’s out of harm’s way now. It was all only an accident, but he’ll be all right.”
“Only an accident?” He echoed heatedly. “He could have been killed.”
“Don’t scare him so, there’s no need for that.”
“I’m not! I mean, I’m not trying to.” He glanced down at Oliver who was no longer shaking and had since wrapped his arms around his neck.
The warm little weight there still left Ronan shuddering at how close he had come to losing his boy. Just taking his eyes off him for a moment could have gone so wrong. A lump formed in his throat.
“Goodness gracious! We are so awfully sorry,” Isabel came bounding over with her hands clasped together. “The colt is still very skittish. I don’t know why he was out for training at this hour, I’m so awfully sorry. Is Oliver all right? Yes? Oh, dear, Isla, your dress!”
He stopped cold as he watched the young woman blush while his friend’s wife fawned over her. Too late he realized he had blistered an already injured hide.
“I’m really all right,” Isla started.
But she winced when Isabel took her arm, revealing bloody scratches having ripped her gloves. The duchess immediately wrapped an arm around her, calling orders to everyone. “Do carry on, please! Sebastian, help her up to the house, would you? Where is Smythe? I need your attendance now! Please enjoy yourselves, friends, I’ll return shortly once I’ve cared for our guest.”
Ronan exhaled even as he saw the rips in Isla’s dress. The garment was filthy on the side and ripped badly down at the knees. How had he not noticed?
His legs led him toward the house, trailing behind them with Oliver still in his arms. Shames filled him heavily in the stomach. Feeling something bitter on his tongue, he couldn’t imagine how uncouth he must have appeared. He hadn’t meant to be so insensitive. But if he had taken one look…
“Ro?”
His throat constricted. The hand he’d held on Oliver’s head to keep him steady in his arms loosened, and the boy wiggled to lean back and meet his gaze. Big green eyes stared back at him. “Yes, Oliver?”
The boy twisted but didn’t attempt otherwise to escape. “I’m sorry.”
He couldn’t manage his r’s yet. The childish words melted through Ronan. Forcing a smile, he shook his head.
“You have nothing to apologize for. Unless you purposefully stood in the path of the horse?”
Oliver pouted as Ronan took them inside. “I wanted to pet it.”
“Not without someone to help you, Oliver.” He internally groaned. “You could have been injured. What am I to do with you? If Isla hadn’t been there…”
“Isla?”
Can a man drown on land because I am floundering here. The two of them have met, no thanks to me, in the worst way possible. None of this is according to my plan. Why can’t anything go right?
Ronan cleared his throat. Carefully setting the boy down, he crouched low so they could have a quiet conversation together. This didn’t happen often. He never really knew what to say when it was just them. Usually his nursemaid or someone was there between him and Oliver.
“Isla is the lady who saved you. She and I are to marry.”
“Marry?”
“Yes, as man and wife,” Ronan pointed out. “She would come live with us. With you.”
The boy looked about like he might spot Isla. There was a deep furrow in his brow. Ronan let him for a moment, keeping him close when he tried to wander, and trying to straighten his clothing. “Marry now?”
“No, no. Not for a little while more. She’s who I wished you to meet. Do you remember talking on the carriage ride here? I wanted to introduce the two of you.”
