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A sudden splash from the river signaled the end of the carriage. Sophia and the stranger watched as it was seized by the current and swiftly washed down river.
"If it had not been for you and your timely arrival, I fear that carriage would have taken Batsheba and me to a watery grave."
Her fair blonde hair had evidently been washed and dried, as it was now practically gleaming with a golden glow. Her skin was still very pale, although he could see a slight pinkness to her cheeks that had not been there the previous evening.
“How is she fairing?” he asked the maid, not wishing to intrude if the woman was still sleeping.
“Resting, Your Grace,” the maid replied. “She was awake not long ago.”
Relieved that he could push the unwanted task of conversing with his unexpected guest to another occasion, he nodded at the maid and made way to leave the room.
“Who are you?” A thin, wan voice reached his ears.
Cursing his misfortune, Robert turned to smile reassuringly at the woman in the bed.
To his utter astonishment, he stared into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They were the colour of a newly bloomed bluebell from the valley, enchanting, delicate. Her astonishing gaze was framed by long dark eyelashes.
Florid cheeks and flawlessly sculpted lips, as if crafted by angels themselves. All these features set together on a delicate, almost angelic face.
In short, the woman he had rescued from the ocean was utterly breathtaking, and, for the first time in his life, the Duke of Daventry found himself completely speechless.
Sophia realized that she must look disheveled in her current state. Every part of her body, even her hair, was covered in mud. Although ineffective, she attempted to wipe the mud off her skirt and move her wet hair off her face.
The attempts to regain her composure and look the part of a lady were useless. This man had just saved her, and he was covered in mud as well, but he still managed to look dashing. He ran his hand through his dark hair as he surveyed the river.
"Miss, you may have to find an alternate route home. This road may be out for a while."
"I will manage. At least now I have the opportunity to return home, thanks entirely to you," she said as she walked over to move her hands over Batsheba in comfort. The mare was also caked in mud, but other than that, appeared to be unharmed.
"I must find a way to repay your kindness. Please tell me sir, where is your family's home?"
"I live north of here, Miss."
"I don't believe we have been introduced," said Sophia.
"I have forgotten my manners entirely; I am Christopher Roderick of Brighton Hall."
"Brighton Hall? Are you employed there?" asked Sophia.
"Yes, I suppose you could say that," he said with a laugh. "I am Lord Roderick."
"I beg your pardon; I did not mean to be rude. It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Lord Roderick. I am forever in your debt."
"Please, Miss, I must insist that I only did what any gentleman would do. Let's dispense of this preposterous idea of you owing a debt to me."
He smiled, "Now then, you know who I am, but you never did tell me your name."
"I am Lady Sophia Astor."
"Ah, the daughter of Lord Astor, I presume?"
"Do you know my father?"
"I do, but only as an acquaintance. Now, I must escort you somewhere to find clean clothes and warm up by a fire."
Lord Roderick walked to the wood line, untied the reins of a chestnut stallion, and led the horse by the reins to the road. He handed the reins to Sophia as he collected Batsheba.
Together, they walked towards the village accompanied by their horses. Despite the extraordinary circumstances of the occasion, Sophia enjoyed walking with this handsome man. He did not say very much, but she did not mind.
