“Dorothea!” he cried, his voice tight with panic. He dropped to his knees beside her, but hesitated, terrified that touching her might worsen an unseen injury. “Dorothea, can you hear me?”
She didn’t answer.
“Dorothea!” His voice cracked with urgency.
At last, she let out a groan and shifted, eyes fluttering open. “That hurt,” she mumbled, wincing as she attempted to lift her head. “What happened?”
“I don’t rightly know,” Dominic said, crouching closer. “One moment you were astride your horse, and the next, you were flat on your back.”
His gaze swept over her, his eyes scanning for blood, bruises, anything that might hint at the severity of her fall. “Are you injured?”
“My shoulder aches, but nothing seems broken,” she said, slowly pushing herself upright, though her movements were stiff and cautious.
“We should summon the doctor,” he stated.
She gave him a look. “And say what? That I have a bruise and a sore shoulder? That hardly warrants his time.”
Dorothea tried to stand but faltered, her balance slipping from under her.
Dominic didn’t wait for permission. In one swift motion, he scooped her into his arms, ignoring her weak protests.
“I can walk, Dominic,” she said, though her voice was faint.
“I know,” he murmured, holding her close, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you.”
By the time they reached the back of the townhouse, a footman had already opened the door. Dominic stepped inside, striding through the hall until he spotted Wright.
“Send for the doctor,” Dominic commanded, not slowing.
“That’s not necessary—” Dorothea began.
He cut her off, his tone firmer. “Just let the doctor examine you, Dorothea. Please.”
“Very well. But I still think you're overreacting.”
“Duly noted,” he said as he carefully set her down onto the drawing room settee, adjusting the cushions behind her. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m truly fine,” she replied with a wan smile. “Although I do wonder what startled the horse. She’s normally very calm.”
Dominic moved to sit beside her but stopped. Instead, he began to pace, his agitation evident in every rigid line of his body.
Dorothea’s eyes followed him. “You’re making me nervous. Sit down.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Do you know what could have happened if your horse had spooked like that on the street? You could have been trampled. Or worse.”
“You mustn’t dwell on such possibilities,” she said. “I’m right here, and I’m perfectly well.”
He strode towards the drawing room door and flung it open. “Wright!”
A moment later, the butler reappeared. “Yes, my lord?”
“I want to see the head groom in my study. At once,” Dominic said sharply. “Someone saddled Lady Warwicke’s horse improperly, and I want to know who.”
As Wright bowed and left to carry out the order, Dorothea let out a long sigh. “You’re making a big ado out of nothing. Accidents happen.”
“I will be the judge of that,” Dominic said, his tone clipped. But a moment later, his voice softened. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have snapped.”
She gave him a knowing look. “If confronting the groom brings you peace of mind, then by all means. But please, don’t dismiss him over something so minor.”
