With a quick glance at Taylor’s speculative face, the widow must have decided not to press any further. “Do take care, child. I would hate to see something cast a shadow on your reputation.”
Phoebe gave her a very sweet smile. “I will try to remember.” Did Taylor think of her as a child as well? She wasn’t sure she wanted an answer to that question.
Seconds passed and the room began discussing the day’s outings. Phoebe was slower to relax as she waited for the revelation from Mrs. Patterson. It didn’t come and by the time they left for the picnic, her accident had been forgotten by the rest of the guests.
* * *
Seated on a blanket with friends, Phoebe was kept from moving about because of her ankle. Taylor kept his distance, enjoying himself with the other guests. Phoebe did her best to try to ignore him, but was finding it difficult, as she only half listened to her friend’s gossip. She was not used to simply sitting and found her irritation growing as the day wore on. She began to wonder if these girls could think of anything other than gentlemen, fashions and gossip. Mildly she wondered out loud if there were any fish worth catching in the lake only to be rewarded with laughter from her friends, thinking she jested.
After returning to the house, a small group decided to take some horses out for a ride before dinner. Phoebe was on her way to the stables when Noah stopped her. “You aren’t riding,” he informed her sternly.
“Why not?” She demanded, trying to pull her arm from his grasp.
“Think of it as punishment for last night,” he stated for her ears only. “For one, you should rest that ankle. For another, you need to think of the consequences had Mrs. Patterson decided to enlighten everyone to what had really occurred.”
“She wouldn’t,” Phoebe retorted as she tried to pull away from him.
“What would stop her?”
“What I could say about her.” Phoebe gave him a confident smile.
“There you are wrong. It was no secret to anyone that she left with Sandlin.”
Phoebe searched her brother’s face. She could tell by his eyes that he was telling the truth and it tore at her. Taylor had planned to seduce that woman and she would have let him. Oh how she wished it didn’t bother her. Raising her chin she huffed. “Then I am sorry I spoiled his evening.” She tried to yank her arm away.
“You are retiring to your room. That is the end of the discussion and I suggest you don’t make a scene.”
Phoebe fumed. But she knew he would haul her upstairs if she didn’t go on her own and she had no desire for further humiliation. She was facing enough of it secretly on her own. “Very well.” Turning she limped to the house, fighting the tears in her eyes.
From her room upstairs she watched them ride away. The further they rode, the angrier she became. How dare he send her to her room as if she were a child? He didn’t have control over her, despite what he thought, and she would prove it to him. As soon as they were far out of sight, she made her way downstairs and to the stables. After a horse was saddled for her, she rode off in the direction of the other riders, and then veered off on another path as soon as she was out of sight. She wanted to ride and be defiant. Yet she wasn’t brave enough to flaunt it in Noah’s face.
After a long, hard ride, her anger dissipated and she turned the horse back the direction they had come. She still had a few hours of light left so she didn’t bother hurrying. Besides, the horse had been run a good portion of the trail and she had no intention of over exerting the poor animal.
Phoebe hadn’t really thought about much as she ran from the house. Only the need to be away and out from under Noah’s command. Now upon reflection, with her own temper cooled, she had to admit he was right. In retrospect, her actions had been spontaneous and foolish. However, they never seemed that way at the time. Even taking the horse on her own didn’t seem foolish. She rode her own horse often alone at home. This wasn’t home. This was someone else’s house and there were a number of guests who would have frowned if they knew her recent actions. All she had to do was return to the house before the others and sneak upstairs to her room. If she didn’t make it back before them, she would still sneak up to her room and hope the stable hands didn’t mention her actions to Noah. Hopefully they wouldn’t know that Noah was her guardian. If her absence was noticed, most likely they would tell Martin or Janine, and Phoebe could only hope they would keep silent.
Leading the horse into the woods, she stopped at a stream. Dismounting, she allowed him to drink, while she wandered along the bank, favoring her ankle and wishing she were anywhere else but at this house party. The events of the night before came flooding back to her. Why of all men did she have to have feelings for Lord Sandlin? He didn’t even recognize that she could be a potential wife and she had never felt so dejected. Not that she would put her mother and sister before a gentleman; it would still be nice if he felt for her a smidgen of what she felt for him.
He will never see me differently.
It was not a pleasant thought at all. The only action she could take would be to put Sandlin out of her mind and return to the house. That was her firm decision as she began walking back to her horse when a shot rang out from across the stream. Before she could react to the noise, she felt something tear through her upper arm and fell to the ground, striking her head against a rock. Spooked, the horse didn’t wait for its rider, but tore off toward the stables, leaving Phoebe alone, lying on the ground.
Chapter 11
Phoebe lay quiet and still, waiting for the person who had fired the shot to appear. After several long minutes passed, she realized whoever he or she was, had gone. As she struggled to sit up, pain tore through her arm and head. Phoebe looked down to inspect the damage. It actually felt worse than it was, though the blood soaking into her sleeve certainly gave the illusion of a serious wound. She ran her fingers over the bump just above her temple and winced at the tenderness. She struggled to stand and surveyed her surroundings, fighting the dizziness. Her spontaneous, reckless streak had certainly gotten her in trouble this time.
Phoebe had no idea how far from the house she was nor how long it would take to walk the distance. Taking a few steps back toward the trail she was reminded of her ankle and groaned in irritation. Finding a long stick, she used it as a cane, to keep as much weight off her ankle as possible. Her other arm lay cradled across her abdomen, and she tried to move it as little as possible. Setting her teeth, she set out for the house, anger at herself growing with each painful step.
She wanted to cry out against the throbbing discomfort in both her ankle and arm but suspected that would only increase the pain in her head. Phoebe refused to give into tears. She deserved each injury and would not cower now. She would wait and do that when she was in her bed, safe again, with her head buried under the covers. As much as she would love to give over to self-pity at the moment, she didn’t have the option, knowing it would be long past dark when she finally made it back to the house.
Phoebe could just imagine what Noah would have to say now. Maybe he would send her back to the country for the rest of the Season. There was a hopeful thought. The Season had brought her nothing but weariness. It would be nice to go home again. Yes, that is what she would do. Make him so angry he would ship her home to be with her sisters. Feeling a bit lighter in mood, she continued up the path, wishing she had an idea of how far away she had ridden.
A half hour after the horse had run off, Phoebe could walk no further and decided to seek shelter instead. Night descended quicker than she anticipated and she was unlikely to make it back until long after everyone had retired. All she could hope for was that everyone believed her to be in bed and she could continue her walk in the morning. Then she would find a way into the house with nobody the wiser. Besides, she was hurt, dizzy, and nauseous and the pressure of the boot gave no doubt that her ankle had swollen considerably. If she could rest, she knew she would feel much better by dawn. At least she hoped. With that thought, she began to scan the woods f
or the shed she had passed earlier. Hopefully it would offer shelter and warmth.
At the next curve in the road she spotted the structure between the trees and limped in that direction. Once in the clearing she was amazed to see it wasn’t a shed, but a small stable with a cabin on the other side. For the first time since her fall, Phoebe smiled with relief. At least she wouldn’t have to spend the night in some shed.
Phoebe let herself into the cabin and found it to be nicely furnished, with an ample supply of wood by the fireplace. Additionally it was clean and she wondered who came here before she remembered Martin and Janine talking about the secret cabin in the woods. This must be it. Shutting the door behind her, she approached the fireplace first to get a fire started. Next she made her way out the back of the cabin, to the stream for fresh water and filled a bucket, before returning to the house and taking another out to fill. One would be for drinking and the other to soak her foot, hoping the cold water would help reduce some of the swelling.
With the fire going and the cabin beginning to warm, Phoebe set about gathering the items she would need close at hand, knowing once she sat down, she was unlikely to get back up again for a while. After locating rags, blankets and a pillow, she brought them to the chairs by the fire before finding tea in the cupboard. She put a kettle over the fire to heat. Finally, Phoebe had everything close at hand to see her through the night.
After removing her jacket, she pulled her arm free of the blouse. She would have to see to her arm first. Some of the blood had dried, and the cloth stuck to the wound. Phoebe winced when she pulled the material away, causing the bleeding to start again. Dipping a cloth in the cool water, she applied it to her arm and was reminded of the throbbing in her ankle and head. Setting the cloth aside, she put her arm back into the ruined blouse, letting the blood soak into the fabric once again. She then set to removing her boot and stocking. Just as she had suspected, it had swollen considerably, and continued to do so now that the boot was no longer a confinement.
Intent on being comfortable first, she fixed a cup of tea, which she sat beside her. Then carefully lifting her skirt above her knee she lifted the injured foot and placed it in the bucket. The icy cold water sent a jolt through her veins and she shook for a moment. Soon her foot began to numb and she returned her attention to her arm. She kept the cold, wet cloth in place until the bleeding stopped, pausing on occasion to sip her tea.
* * *
The riding party returned shortly before darkness fell. Laughing, they ran into the house, leaving the stable hands to see to the horses. Taylor lagged behind, wanting to see to his own horse, which was his habit.
“You requested to see me?” Martin asked the stable hand.
“Yes, my lord. I am concerned about one of the guests.”
“Which one and why?”
“The lady referred to as Lady Phoebe hasn’t returned.”
Just the mention of the name intruded on Taylor’s thoughts and he brought his head up.
“No. She didn’t accompany us,” Martin answered and patted the nose of a horse.
“She rode out after the party had left.”
Taylor stopped what he was doing, ground his teeth, and walked out of the stall.
“She hasn’t returned yet?” He asked the question, knowing how obvious the answer, but needing clarification.
“No, but her horse did some time ago. I was hoping she was with everyone else.”
Taylor cursed under his breath. “Which way did she go?” He began to put the saddle back on his own horse.
“The same direction as the riding party.” The man gestured.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Martin asked.
“Tell Noah first,” Taylor shouted back as he rode off.
He rode in the direction they had taken; Taylor wondered where the hell she could be. They hadn’t seen her, so she must have taken another trail, but which one? He could be looking for her all night. Taking the first path he came to, Taylor veered to the left, deciding to try each path until he rode as far as they had earlier. Surely she hadn’t gone very far.
When he had ridden for almost half an hour and was ready to turn back, the smell of smoke caught his attention. Stopping, he tried to determine its location and headed in that direction. Riding slowly, he found the cabin and in his gut, knew he found Lady Phoebe.
He tied his horse up in the shelter provided and approached the house. He was angrier than he could ever remember being. While he had been worried sick, she had probably been sitting peacefully before the fire, determined to be defiant, not a care in the world. Well perhaps he should do something Noah hadn’t yet done. A blistering on the backside was long overdue.
Taylor approached the door quietly and decided a little scare wouldn’t harm her either. She needed to be reminded how vulnerable she truly was. He turned the handle of the door without making a sound.
* * *
Phoebe had heard the horse approach and was afraid it was the person who had fired the shot, or worse. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, and draped it over the bucket. No sense alerting them of how defenseless she was at the moment. She picked up the poker from the fireplace and waited silently as the door opened.
“You reckless little fool. Do you have any idea the trouble that could be brewing if anyone else besides Martin knows you are missing?”
Phoebe started at his voice. He was the last person she expected to appear, yet wasn’t really surprised. Holding tightly to the poker, afraid of the anger she heard in his voice, she pulled the blanket tighter around her, though she knew he wouldn’t physically hurt her. She could only just imagine his reaction when he found out she managed to injure herself once again. “I was hoping everyone would think I was still in my room.”
“Luckily, most everyone does,” he ground out and came around the chair to face her, stopping short. “Come on. I will take you back.”
“I can’t. Just return without me and send a horse back in the morning,” she retorted, becoming more miserable with every moment.
“As much as I would like to leave you here, that is not an option. Now get up so I can return you to your brother so he can deal with you.” He towered over her.
Phoebe’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. Why was he so angry? Stupid question, she already knew. Once again he was rescuing her from herself and was finally fed up with his role. “I said I can’t. Please go.” She turned her face back toward the fire, fighting her tears and hoping he would leave her in peace.
“I am not in the mood to argue. I’ll carry you if I have too.” He grabbed the blanket, pulled it from her and went completely still.
Phoebe whipped her head around and looked up, her mouth opened to explain but his stormy expression caused her to hold her tongue.
First his eyes went to her leg, bare from the knee down, resting in a bucket of water. He scanned up her body and Phoebe’s face heated with embarrassment, though she preferred to think of it as anger. She only partially wore her blouse, revealing her chemise and corset. It was the red rag tied around her arm that stopped him, and his eyes flicked up to her face for an explanation.
She stared back at him, part in fear and part in pain. “It is not as bad as it looks,” she tried to offer lightly. “Just a minor mishap.”
Quickly he searched her body for any additional injuries but found none before noticing the poker clenched in her fist. With half a smile, he took it from her. “I believe you can put this down. For the moment you are safe, though my first intent when walking in the door was to blister your bottom.” He lifted the poker from her hand and placed it back with the other tools, then turned his attention back to Phoebe. He kneeled to the side of the chair, intent on looking at her arm.
He began to lift the bandage. “Don’t do that. It will start bleeding again.”
Taking his hands away, he sat back on his heels. “Mind telling me what happened?”
“Will you be angry?” She sank further into the chair and trie
d to put distance between them.
“I am already angry so why don’t you just tell me. Did you fall from the horse and cut your arm?”
“Of course I didn’t fall from my horse.” Her spine went rigid and Phoebe scowled at him. “I am insulted you would suggest such a thing.”
He leaned back, eyes wide with shock apparently. “Then perhaps you should explain why your horse returned to the stable without you and there is a bandage tied around your arm.”
“That is simple. I was shot, fell down and hit my head. The noise spooked the horse.”
He stared at her, his mouth open.
“We had just stopped by the stream for a drink and I happened to be standing next to her when there was a gunshot from across the stream. Naturally, the horse bolted before I could get a hold of her. When the person didn’t show themselves, I walked until I came to this cabin.”
Taylor’s face paled. “How far did you have to walk?” He moved toward her foot and gently lifted it out of the bucket.
Phoebe winced at his touch. “I don’t know. About half an hour. I wasn’t walking very quickly.”
“I can see that,” he muttered while examining the swollen appendage. It was starting to show bruising on the side. Gently he placed it back in the bucket and turned his attention to the arm. Phoebe waited while he unwrapped the bandage to examine the wound. “I told you it wasn’t as bad as it looked. It bled a lot, but for the most part it is a minor injury.”
* * *
Taylor picked up another cloth and began to wash the wound, not sure what to say. She had been shot, but didn’t seem fazed by the incident. It was more than a minor injury and the shot had done more than just graze her. If it had been just slightly over a bit, it would have struck bone. At least it had gone all the way through. It probably needed stitching, but he was sure the materials were not available in the cabin. Finding a clean cloth, he bound her arm once again, never saying a word. Next he looked at the bruise on her head. When he touched it, she winced. He stopped immediately. “How do you really feel?” He asked with concern.
His Impetuous Deputante (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time - Book 1) Page 9