AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When he’d finally caught his breath and determined he wasn’t going to drop her, he nudged about with one foot to find the ground, eventually balancing himself, and then gingerly maneuvered her knees up until they were resting on the top of the stile. After he’d done that, he slid his arm farther under her knees until he felt he had a secure hold of her.
Now, at least, he had her in a position where he could carry her.
He carefully moved his other foot down to the ground, and then he pulled her the rest of the way over the stile and securely next to him.
She moaned when her broken ankle rubbed against the stile and then blinked up at him with her striking blue eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. And then she fainted again.
I’m sorry.
Ben tromped along, careful to avoid brambles and tree branches, for the young lady’s sake, in what he hoped was the direction of Viscount Thurlby’s manor house, based on the slightly visible path he could see.
I’m sorry. Another face, ghostly pale, had murmured those same words to him. Another pair of eyes, although not blue ones, had fluttered open to look at him and then had shut, never to open again.
Those words had spoken volumes.
Thankfully, the barely worn path led him true, and after clearing the wooded area, he was greeted by a well-maintained park with the manor house just beyond. It was a welcome sight, for his lungs burned, as did the muscles in his arms, and the young lady was only now beginning to show signs of reviving. He picked up his pace, cutting directly across the lawns to the back entrance of the house.
The young lady drew in a deep breath and then whimpered. Her eyes opened, and she moved her head, Ben presumed, to take in her surroundings.
“Almost home now,” he said.
She shut her eyes, but Ben didn’t think she’d fainted again, which was a relief. They were nearly to the house, and he searched the outbuildings and barn for a stablehand or other servant who might be able to assist, but he could see no one.
They eventually reached the door, but still, Ben could see no one. He couldn’t very well knock, what with his arms full of an injured young lady at the moment, so he kicked the door with his boot. “Ho there!” he called. “Anyone home?” He kicked the door a second time.
Finally, through the window, he could make out a sturdy middle-aged woman in an apron and cap hurrying to the door. She opened it, a quizzical look on her face. And then she apparently recognized who it was Ben was carrying.
“Oh dear! Miss Rebecca!” the woman said. “What has happened? Come in, come in.” She gestured for Ben to follow her inside. “Bring her this way. Oh dear!”
She led Ben to a dayroom, where he spotted a comfortable-looking chaise longue near a window.
“You can lay her here. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I must go find Lady Thurlby.”
Ben nodded, and as carefully as he could, he set his feminine armful down on the chaise longue. He did a quick search of the room for additional pillows and cushions while she attempted to remove her bonnet. There weren’t many pillows, but he managed to find two. He gingerly lifted her lower leg, holding on to the makeshift splint, and eased the first pillow into place. He glanced at her.
“That’s better,” she whispered, her eyes closed. “Thank you.”
He then picked up the second pillow. “May I place this under your head?” he asked, taking in the dark-brown curls she had exposed.
“Rebecca!” a woman’s voice cried out before the young lady—Rebecca—could respond. “What has happened?”
Ben turned, pillow in hand, to see who had entered the room.
The young lady opened her eyes. “Mama!” she cried.
The woman, who must assuredly be Lady Thurlby, crossed the room to her daughter, glancing only briefly at Ben, and then perched on the edge of the chaise longue and wrapped her daughter in her arms. “Rebecca, my poor, darling girl! What has happened?”
The middle-aged woman in cap and apron, whom Ben had encountered previously, rushed into the room, followed by another lady, who, by her dress, must be a relative.
“I’ve sent young Peter to fetch the surgeon, and tea will be arriving shortly,” the middle-aged woman said as the other woman crossed the room and knelt next to Miss Rebecca on the other side of the chaise longue.
“Thank you, Mrs. Pugh. That is a great relief,” Lady Thurlby said. “Oh, good, Susan, you’re here too.”
Ben offered the pillow to Lady Thurlby. “Perhaps the young lady . . .” His words tapered off.
“Thank you.” She took the pillow from him and eased it behind her daughter’s head.
“Now that I know the young miss is safe, I shall leave you,” Ben said. “If you’ll excuse me—”
