Page 131 of Courting the Wrong Duke

She blinked against the sudden brightness, trying to focus on William as he hurried toward her, but his face blurred at the edges.

“Rosalind?”

There was alarm in his voice now. She reached for the table and missed as William lunged toward her.

She heard him call her name once more, felt the world tilt beneath her, and then everything went black before her body struck the soft grass.

Chapter 19

“Rosalind?”

Her eyelids fluttered, and William leaned closer as relief finally began to loosen the knot that had lodged beneath his ribs from the moment he watched her collapse.

“There you are.”

Rosalind opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches overhead. They had carried her to the shade beside the pond, far enough from the others to escape the worst of the afternoon heat but still within sight of the game.

His mother remained across the lawn with Lady Whitcombe and the other guests, while Nelly knelt beside the blanket.

Rosalind took in her surroundings before her gaze found William.

Her eyes widened.

“Easy,” he said when she immediately tried to sit up.

He reached instinctively to steady her, but she seemed determined to manage without him.

“I am fine.”

“You fainted.”

“I remember.”

Something in her answer struck him as strange, though he mistook it for embarrassment. Some color had returned to her cheeks, and now that she was awake, his fear receded enough for his usual humor to return.

“Apparently defeating me at battledore requires considerably more exertion than you anticipated.”

Rosalind did not smile.

William leaned nearer and lowered his voice. “You needn’t practice the art of swooning for my benefit. We are already courting.”

Ordinarily, that would have earned him one of her looks.

Instead, Nelly reached for Rosalind’s hand and squeezed it.

William saw the change immediately.

Rosalind glanced at her maid before looking back at him, and whatever bewilderment remained in her expression hardened into something that wiped the smile from his face.

“Rosalind, what is it?”

Her gaze flicked toward the others across the lawn. When she spoke, her voice was low enough that William had to lean closer to hear her.

“I know about the carriage.”

He frowned. “What about it?”

“Nelly found it.”