He moved to the water’s edge and stepped in, so that he could see her better. “What problem?”
“You, Your Grace. I keep… breaking the rules because of you!” she blurted out, her eyes shining with tears that he could not understand. “I should have departed that study the moment you pulled me in there, but I did not. I cannot risk my reputation, Your Grace, and I… I keep getting caught up in your carelessbehavior. Well, no longer. I think it would be best if we avoid one another for the rest of the week… and, indeed, beyond.”
“Is this because of your betrothed?” he asked bluntly, the word like poison in his mouth.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, and he waited for the explanation that had been haunting him through the woods.
“No, Your Grace, it is not because of him,” she said in a rush, as she scrambled up into the saddle. “It is, as I just said, because of you and your… obliviousness. You think you can do as you please and no harm will befall you, and while that might be true, I would urge you to consider the people who are not protected by title, status, popularity, and the gift of being born a gentleman.”
With a click of her tongue, she rode through the stream, water splashing, and seemed intent on riding away from Hugo as fast as the mare would permit.
Oh no, you do not get to blame me and leave…
He jumped up into the saddle of his own horse and took off after her, certain that his gelding would be able to catch up with ease. But as he gave chase, she made the mistake of twisting around to look at him, her mouth opening to shout at him. But before a word could leave her lips, a low-hanging branch caught her squarely in the chest… and she went flying, sailing backward through the air, where she landed with a thud in a spongy patch of moss.
“Evelyn!” he yelled, loud enough that all of the county probably heard him.
Sunlight glanced through the trees, the sky the most perfect shade of blue, as Evelyn lay there in a daze. She blinked the blurriness from her eyes and gulped in breath, the wind knocked out of her. There was pain, though she could not quite decipher where; her whole-body aching with the impact. Although she had had the good fortune to land in a mossy patch of earth, softening her fall.
“Evelyn? Evelyn, are you well?” A figure skidded to his knees at her side, a warm hand sliding underneath her neck.
Worried blue eyes, rather like that perfect sky, gazed down at her.
“Evelyn?” His other hand grasped hers. “Evelyn, are you hurt? Did you hit your head? Can you see me?”
Clarity came back to her in a rush, the fog lifting from her dazed mind, suddenly very aware of that warm, rough hand under her neck and the grip of his other hand holding hers with an urgency that disarmed her.
She struggled to sit up, pulling her hand from his. “You should not touch me, Your Grace.”
His touch lingered on the back of her neck, forcing her to hurry in her attempt to stand, to get away from that gentle contact. Putting weight on her right foot, a sharp pain shot all the way up from her ankle to her knee, and downed her once more. She grimaced as a harsh breath hissed through her teeth, her fingertips pulling up the hem of her skirt to see the damage.
Hugo was there again, kneeling by her, his hands reaching for her ankle. She knew she should protest, but the shock held her silent as his eyes intently surveyed her for injuries.
“Does this hurt?” he asked, extending her leg forward slightly, taking all of the weight upon his surprisingly capable hands.
She gasped. “Yes.”
“And this?” He turned her foot to the right and then to the left, as if he knew what he was doing.
She pulled a face, cursing herself for turning back when she did, annoyed that she had not been looking where she was going. “Yes.”
“Badly?”
“It is… bearable,” she replied.
“Is it truly bearable or are you pretending to be brave?”
She squinted at him, her ankle throbbing as if there were a hot coal within the bone. “If I was pretending to be brave, I would be on my feet, limping along and insisting I was quite all right.”
It defied her understanding, but whenever she was around him, it was as if she was not herself… or perhapsmoreherself than she had ever dared to be in front of anyone else. She could not imagine speaking like that to her brothers or her father, or some other gentleman of theton.So what was it about Hugo, in particular, that shattered all of the artifice, the restraint, and the forced politeness that she reserved for everyone else?
I suppose it began at the opera house…Circumstances regarding Selina had made it necessary for her to be blunt and forthright, and it seemed she could not revert back to how she was expected to behave. Not with him, at least.
“Goodness, you are even grumpier when you are injured,” Hugo remarked with a smile.
“I am not grumpy; I am… frustrated that whenever there seems to be trouble, you are right there,” she replied, her breath catching as his hand gently closed around her ankle, his fingertips pressing the tender spots.
“With respect, I thought you were lost in the woods,” he said, his gaze focused on her injury. “I was coming to your rescue. If you had not ridden off like the impetuous woman that you are, you would not have been struck by that branch and you would not be injured right now.”
