“Oh, Charles.” She cupped his face in both hands, the warmth of them a shock against his skin.
The image of her grew clearer. Soaked to the skin, her curls stuck to her face. She had to be the most beautiful creature on earth. But why was she here?
“What…?”
“We need to get you to safety. There is a farm ahead.”
He shook his head. “My leg,” he croaked.
“We need to get you warm,” she insisted. She stood briefly and left him.
He twisted his head to view her. Where had she gone? Had she given up and left him?
That warm touch returned swiftly and she slung a blanket over him. Coldness ate so deep into his bones that he hardly noticed any difference.
“You cannot stay here. Please, Charles, we must move you. This is all my fault…”
A sob broke the words. He gritted his teeth and forced himself up onto his elbows. He’d be damned if Eloise cried over him.
His head swam but after a moment it cleared. “You shall have to help me.” He winced. “My leg is broken I think.”
“I can help.” Determination made her voice hard.
He could hardly fathom how Eloise, who was a head smaller than he and as slender as a reed could, but they had to try. She urged him to sling an arm over her shoulder.
He pushed up onto his good leg then, using Eloise’s support, eased himself forward and up. A grunt of pain escaped him and he nearly fell back down but she would not let him loose. By some miracle, he managed to get to his feet. If he did not put pressure on his leg, he might be able to do something.
“I have my horse,” she said.
“Not Phyllis I hope.”
She gave a weak laugh. “No, not Phyllis.”
She helped him hop over to the horse and he dragged himself up and over the saddle. Every part of him throbbed in pain and begged him to give up then and there but Eloise’s determined voice urged him to continue.
“There is a farm not far from here. Just hold on, Charles. Do not give in.”
He gripped the pommel of the saddle tight and forced his attention on Eloise as she led the horse along the road. He could only make out her shape but it was enough. She was like a damned guardian angel, a beacon of light. For Eloise, he would overcome every bone in his body being broken if he had to.
The journey to the farm might as well have been a trek across the desert. Albeit, a sodden desert.
The golden glow seeping from the farmhouse windows made him straighten. He practically felt the heat of a fire and warming soup run through to his bones.
Eloise banged on the door with surprising force for a delicate woman. A brute of a man answered the door. Damn, why could he not have been more careful? In his state, he could do little to protect Eloise. But a great grin broke across the man’s face, softening the deep scowl etched into his forehead. He opened his arms wide.
“My lady, what brings you here? And covered in mud an’ all?”
“There was an accident, George.” She motioned to the horse with Charles atop it. He resisted the desire to give a jaunty wave.
“Oh, dear me. Got yourself into a pickle, I see.” George stepped out from the doorway and peered up at Charles. “Is he a scoundrel?”
“No! This is the Earl of Marlton. I think he has broken his leg.”
“I find myself a little stuck,” Charles said, feeling the full weight of George’s study of him. For Eloise to be alone with a man had to be an odd sight to be sure. Somehow, even in his state, he would have to convince the farmer that he was an upstanding gentleman. “Will you give me a hand, good sir?”
“Sir,” the farmer scoffed. “That’s a new one.” George offered out a hand and helped ease Charles down from the horse. “Let us get you inside, then we can decide what to do with you.” The farmer threw Charles’s arm over his wide shoulders and took most of his weight with ease.
Charles hopped into the farmhouse, followed by Eloise. A woman almost as wide as the farmer but a good head shorter eyed the spectacle.
“Lady Eloise, what on earth is going on? Goodness look at the state of you.”
“This is Charles, the Earl of Marlton. He fell from his horse and I think he has a broken leg. I came across him just up the road,” Eloise explained.
“What were you doing out at night?”
Eloise gave a long sigh. “I will explain later. It was my stepbrothers’ fault.”
Charles frowned at this but could not find the energy to ask her what she meant. George helped him over to the fireplace and set him down on a tattered old armchair and dragged forward a footstool. With help from Eloise, Charles lifted his painful leg onto the stool. The farmer’s wife darted forward and threw a blanket over him.
“You shall need to get him out of those clothes, George,” the woman said,
Charles shook his head. “I can do it myself.”
No matter how much pain he was in, he was not letting a burly farmer undress him. He had some standards.
The warmth from the fire had already begun to cut through the icy numbness that had pervaded his skin.
“Can we get him some soup?” Eloise asked. “And maybe some tea please, Rosemary?”
The woman—Rosemary it seemed—nodded. “I won’t be a moment. You get him comfortable, my lady, and George can find him some dry clothes then put away your horse.”
“It won’t be anything fancy mind,” George put in.
Charles waved a hand. “I hardly look fancy now, do I?” He indicated to his mud-caked, sodden clothing. “Whatever you can manage I will be more than grateful for.”
The fatigue in his head had returned with the warmth of the compact room. Low wooden beams made the room feel smaller. Jugs and pots were lined up on a shelf that ran all the way around the room. The furniture was worn and threadbare. Even the floorboards showed signs of overuse, scuffed into dips by years and years of footsteps. It was, in fact, utterly perfect. With the chill leaving him and the pain in his leg receding to a dull throb, he had never been so grateful to be stuffed into a tiny room with musty furnishings. Give him this over his grand home any day.
Rosemary entered the room, her hands clasped in front of her generous stomach. “We won’t be able to get the doctor yet. Not until morning.”
“Do you have anything for the pain?”
“I am fine,” Charles protested.
“I’m sure I can brew up something.” She reached out a hand to Eloise. “But first, let us get you into something dry. I have a few of my daughter’s old clothes around. You will catch a chill if you do not.”
Eloise threw an uncertain look his way.
“Go. I would never forgive myself if you sickened.”
“You have been more than kind,” Eloise told the woman.
“You took on that horrible sheep of ours. We owe you.”
Ah, that explained how they knew Eloise. Thank goodness for her desire to rescue every horrible, grumpy, useless animal out there. Were it not for that, they might not have found help so easily.
“Come,” Rosemary persisted. “George will be down with some clothes in a minute and I am sure Lord Marlton here does not wish for you to witness his struggles.”
Eloise gave him one last look and he offered a reassuring smile. Once she had left the room, he gave into the desire to close his eyes.
After only a moment of rest, he stirred at the feeling of something tickling his face. He swiped it away. Was it raining inside? Had he dreamt his rescue? He dragged open his eyes to find Eloise leaning over him.
He must have slept longer than he thought as she was now wearing a simple blue gown and her hair had been tied back into a tight braid. There were no more mud streaks either. It seemed Rosemary had worked her magic.
He glanced down at himself. His own sodden clothes were gone but he could not for the life of him remember removing them.
“Did George undress me?”
“I am afraid so.” Eloise sniffed. “We had no choice. You wer
e fast asleep and getting colder by the minute.”
It was after another great sniff from her that he focused on her face. He lifted a hand to touch her cheek. “Why are you crying?”
“I am so sorry,” Eloise murmured.
Charles scowled at her. “Why?”
“This was my fault.”
“How was it? It was mine. My own bloody fault. I should have waited until morning to leave. I could have taken the carriage and then I would not have risked my life and yours.”
She shook her head. “No, you do not understand. It was…it was my stepbrothers.”
“They didn’t persuade me to leave. In fact, they both urged me to wait until morning.”
“No.” She kneeled beside him and took his hand in hers. “They wrote the letter. Your mother is not sick.”
He blinked several times as he absorbed the words. “She isn’t sick?”
“No. It was a ruse to get you away from me. They hope that if you went…well…” Color rose on her cheeks.
“That I might fall out of love with you?”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Were you in love with me?”
He grinned. The overwhelming relief that his mother was well and that he had this wonderful woman by his side made him a little giddy. He could almost forget the ache in his leg entirely.
“I was. I am. And a little time away would not change that.”
“Oh, Charles.” She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms about his neck. “Thank goodness, because I am utterly head over feet in love with you.”
Aching leg and exhausted body, be damned. He never felt as good in his life as he did at that moment. He had Eloise’s love. All would be right in the world. He gripped her to him and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips before drawing back.
“As soon as I’m not hobbling around, I’m marrying you, Eloise Cinclair.”
She grinned and nodded. “That’s the best idea you have ever had.”
Epilogue
Eloise pressed a hand to her stomach. A whole host of butterflies had taken up in there it seemed. She could not recall feeling this excited since her wedding day.
Charles squeezed her hand as the carriage rolled up the road to her stepfather’s house. She pushed back the carriage’s curtain to get a better view. Her stepfather was already at the doorstep, as were many of the servants. It was strange to see them again after two weeks of honeymooning in Wales. Milly waved frantically as they drew closer.
“You shall be glad to have your lady’s maid with you once more, shall you not?”
Eloise smiled and nodded at her husband. Gosh, how strange it still was to call him that. As devastatingly handsome as ever, his leg had healed in time for their wedding and he had only lost a little weight which he had mostly regained during their indulgent honeymoon.
“I am glad we had time just the two of us, though.”
Today, however, the honeymoon was officially over. Milly would be coming back with her to live at Oakdale Abbey, Charles’ ancestral seat. As would a few other things…
Or animals to be precise.
As they disembarked from the carriage, the two carts rolled up behind them. Bennett had already begun instructing the drivers as to how to load all the animals.
“Thank you for letting me take them with us,” she whispered as they approached her stepfather.
“I would not have it any other way,” Charles murmured back. “I just hope the barn at the abbey is big enough.”
“Oh, it is.” She gave a sly smile. “For now.”
Eloise tried not to laugh at Charles’s groan. No doubt there would be more animals in need of rescuing and although she had managed to find homes for all the kittens, it would not be long before she gained more.
“Eloise,” her stepfather greeted, an odd tight smile upon his face.
Since the announcement of her engagement to Charles, he had been more civil. The discovery of what Adam and David had done had also softened him somewhat toward her. The twins had suffered a grave punishment indeed—having their allowances cut off for a whole year which would mean no new clothes or other extravagances indeed.
“My lord.”
He dipped his head in deference to Charles. “Will you be staying?”
Charles shook his head. “We must get the animals settled.”
“I see.”
“Is Albert inside?” Eloise asked.
Her stepfather glanced behind him through the open door. “The parrot? Yes. I sent David to fetch him from your room. I’ll be glad to be rid of him. I will not repeat what he called me.”
“Albert certainly has a way with words,” she agreed.
“You carry him!” David came into view in the doorway, holding a cage containing Albert at arm’s length.
“I will not,” Adam spat back. “He’ll give me a disease.”
Eloise hastened forward. “I shall take him, thank you.”
Albert ruffled his feathers at the sight of her. “Saucy wench.”
Her stepfather blanched.
“Naughty boy,” she scolded the bird softly. “But I am glad to see you.” She opened the cage door and her stepbrothers let out a cry of protest. Albert settled straight onto her shoulder and she handed the cage back to David. “He prefers his freedom.”
“Disgusting creature,” David muttered and passed the cage to a servant.
“I think we are nearly loaded,” Charles said. “Bennett will bring Phyllis along himself.”
“Excellent. Come on then, Albert. Let’s not keep everyone waiting. Farewell, my lord.”
Her stepfather opened his mouth then shut it again. Before she could turn away, he put a hand to her arm. “I…I think your mother would be proud of you.”
A sudden well of tears made her eyes hot. She nodded, unable to find any words in response.
“Good riddance,” Adam said under his breath.
Albert made a sudden leap from her shoulder and flew into Adam’s face. Her stepbrother flapped his arms to keep the bird at bay.
David laughed. “He fancies you!”
The bird then swooped back around and over David’s head.
“Albert, no!” Eloise cried.
But it was too late. Albert left a generous dropping upon David’s head and it trickled down his face.
“Somebody shoot that bird!” David waved his hand at Albert. “Shoot it, damn it, shoot it.”
Albert nonchalantly made his way back to Eloise’s shoulder, looking far too smug with himself.
“That was naughty,” she whispered to him.
“And hilarious,” Charles said under his breath.
A spluttered laugh escaped her.
“Come, we had better go before Albert decides to cause any more damage.” Charles offered her his arm. “Farewell.”
Milly joined them in the carriage, near bouncing up and down on the seat. She stuck her head out of the window to wave to the servants. Eloise watched her stepfather return to the house.
“I pity him, I think. He loved my mother but now he is alone with two brattish sons who will only drain him dry.”
“You are a kinder soul than I am,” said Milly.
“And I,” Charles agreed.
The carriage set off but the sound of a shout made Eloise turn her head to see what was happening. Somehow, the sheep had escaped the cart and was chasing David and Adam across the lawns. Laughter escaped her and once Charles and Milly had peered out, they could not cease laughing either.
“See, animals know good people from bad,” Eloise said, wiping her eyes.
“So do you think Albert thought me bad?” Charles asked her.
“Fool,” Albert reminded him.
Eloise giggled. “Very well not all animals are right.”
“He is right, actually. I have been a fool for you for quite some time now. Always will be.”
In response, Eloise snuggled against his shoulder and smiled. “As will I. Always and forever.”
“Fools!” Albert agreed.
THE END
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Other books by Samantha Holt
You’re the Rogue That I Want
When a Rogue Loves a Woman
Regency Fairy Twists
Wake Me With a Kiss
The Beast Who Loved Me
www.samanthaholtromance.com
Dance With Me At Midnight (Regency Fairy Twists Book 3) Page 8