He made certain she wasn’t standing below the ladder before releasing the trunk. It made a loud thud as it hit the ground and partially broke. Certain there was nothing left to use for kindling in the loft, Alex made his way down to find the woman still standing in the same spot. This was far more concerning to him now than it was moments before. She must not understand me.
Pointing to the corner he planned to make their place of security from the storm, Alex could only think to speak as he didn’t know how to speak with his hands. “Can you walk over there? I will not harm you.”
When she rolled her eyes, he worried she was offended by his motions or presence. “If you would prefer I find shelter elsewhere, I will not take offense or blame you. But it is a terrible storm and I care not to catch my death in it.”
She shook her head and he let out a sigh of relief. He’d never been to the Isle of Wight and knew the storm would mean his death. Where to go from here, he didn’t know. Samuel had given him instructions on how to find Woodland Manor, but that is all he had. His heart fell out of his chest and into his stomach when he saw her limp. The look on her face was one of severe pain. Without thought, he moved toward her and swept her into his arms. “You should have told me you were injured.”
Chapter 3
I spend too much time in my imagination she thought as she watched the man search for wood. When he lifted her into his arms, she was certain death would come in the form of a swoon, yet she somehow survived the adventure to recognize the smell of peppermint in his hair and arrive at the area he’d pointed out as the destination of the fire.
She couldn’t stay silent for long, and she needed to thank him for his assistance. “You are too kind to trifle with me.”
She saw his eyebrows raise as her voice sounded strange even to herself. “I feared you were deaf or simple minded with your behavior. What has released your voice?”
“Your kindness, although, I must say I am displeased by your assumption of my allowing you to stay in my barn.”
“This is your barn? Do you have family nearby? If so, I can help you home and we will not have to fight the storm in this rickety old place.”
Blushing at her lie, Debra shook her head. “My home is yet a bit far off. Although I do live on the isle. You do not.”
“No, I am here for a visit with a friend.”
It was Debra’s turn for a surprise. It was possible this man was here for her parent’s house party. Avoiding the natural questions of, who are you and who are you visiting, she chose to stay to herself until he inquired after her ankle.
“May I look at your injury?”
“No, it is well enough.” To keep him from asking again, she pulled out the questions she’d avoided. “I do not even know who you are and your connections.” It was the proper way to do things, although the more proper way was not introducing oneself but to have a chaperon.
“I do apologize we will not have a formal introduction. When we are out of here, I plan to ask Lord Samuel Richardson to give us a proper start. My name is Alexander Evans Earl of Trenton.” She held in her laugh as he stood and gave a courtly bow.
“Lady Debra Richardson, it seems as though you know my family already.” This was a bit of a disappointment to her. In the back of her fanciful mind, she’d imagined a short separation after they left the barn and then they would meet again in London, as this was to be her first season now she was turning eighteen, and they would remember the connection from in the barn and fall desperately in love.
“Lady Debra, are you listening to me?”
Her thoughts took her out of the moment, and she couldn’t remember what he’d originally asked and why he was looking at her with amusement. “I am sorry, did you say something?”
“Now you know my name, and that my dearest friend in the world is your brother, may I look at your injury?”
“I fell while crossing the broken fence; I should be fine.”
“Please, I will be respectful.”
She looked around and saw the broken trunk. “Perhaps you should focus on building the fire.”
“After I look at your ankle. I am concerned.”
“If you wish.” She tried to sound as though she didn’t care, but the romantic notions running through her mind with the implications of a man touching her ankle set her to the blush. Her dress seemed wetter as he lifted the bottom to reveal her mud ridden stockings and ruined slippers. She’d have to throw them in the bin as they were no longer useful.
As he gently pressed the sides of her ankle, she flinched from the pain but simultaneously heated over his fingers as they moved around massaging the injury. She was acting the fool, as his intentions were only her wellbeing.
“I believe it is sprained, Love. It should have a wrap on it, but with our current situation, we will leave it as is and if you need to leave this spot, I will help you.”
“What qualifies you to determine the extent of my injury?” In truth, he’d been a gentleman in full, but she had to be her obstinate self.
“I am not a physician, but any fool can see how bruised and swollen your ankle is.”
“Do you consider yourself a fool, my lord?” She asked with so much innocence, it nearly made her laugh to see the confusion on his face for he must not know she was mocking him. With a repentant look toward her ankle she added, “I apologize for my rudeness.”
“Not at all.” He stood and moved away from her, leaving her ankle a bit colder than it had been from his touch. “I will attend to the fire.”
She tried not to be obvious in watching him as he gathered the wood. It was interesting to see how he piled the wood in an orderly fashion, as though he’d done such work before. “Why are you not traveling with servants?”
“My valet stayed behind to pack my bags he will follow me here and my parents accompanied our hosts in a carriage. They would have arrived this morning.”
She’d been so concerned about experiencing the radiant morning, she hadn’t noticed if there’d been guests with her parents. The adventurous part of her wasn’t sad about her current predicament, but the sensible side chided her and reminded her that ladies don’t get themselves into such troubles.
“May I ask what a lady is doing out of doors on a day such as this one without an escort?”
Debra considered his question. She was a bit out of the ordinary, according to her sisters. She had no need for the conventions of society, since her parents had kept her out until now, as they’d promised she’d have her introduction to society in the fall. “Why does an escort have to accompany me on every ride I take?”
“You are an unmarried woman, I presume?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then you should have an escort, even for a simple ride.”
“If you must know, I left the house early so I could be on my own.”
“Why would a proper young lady have need of solitude?”
“You are not expecting me to respond to your question, are you?”
“I am curious.”
Debra laughed, “Curiosity is a demanding mistress, my lord.”
“You must be involved in something scandalous to have need to hide it.”
Debra turned from him to hide her blush. She feared she’d be caught in this man’s presence but couldn’t see a way out of her current predicament. Silence came between them as she now openly watched him with his task of starting a fire. A chill from the wet clothing spread through her and forced a visible shiver to shake her body.
When he had a small fire in the center of the wood, she inched forward to enjoy the warmth. There wasn’t much and she remained cold. Rubbing her arms as though it would help, he surprised her by collecting a blanket from his travel pack. “I plan to keep you warm, my lady. Although this fire would do better if I had kindling.”
Her heart fell at his words. The blanket was a beautiful gesture and brought immediate joy and temporary warmth, but she had something to help with the fire, and guilt warmed her face wit
h the withheld information. She couldn’t remember how many blank pages sat in her bag, but she wasn’t about to hand over her manuscript to feed the fire. Deciding to stay silent she pulled the blanket tighter and hoped warmth would come.
The fire stayed small and didn’t give off as much heat as they needed. Shivering, Debra moved closer to the fire in an attempt to find warmth. “Has the storm lessened?”
Lord Trenton walked away from the corner and opened the barn door to peer out. While doing so, Debra scooted closer to the fire. Lifting her skirt, she held it over the flames hoping to trap heat between the skirt and her legs. Pulling up to her knees, she hoped to be finished by the time he returned.
“What are you doing?”
Dropping her skirt fabric, Debra turned her head toward the earl. “Trying to get warm. The storm?”
“It looks like ice rain.” As it was early in the spring still, it was possible, but she couldn’t remember previous years of ice rain past March. “We will be here a while.”
Puzzled by the sudden heat near her legs, Debra looked back to the fire fully expecting to see the flames taking hold of the wood. Instead she screamed as her skirt had fallen into the flames and was now burning.
Lord Trenton pulled her away and doused the flames by stomping on her dress, but it was fully ruined. Trying not to cry, Debra pulled the blanket back around her shoulders. The predicament couldn’t get any worse, until she noticed her legs were fully visible to a man she didn’t know.
Clearing his throat, as though nervous, Trenton tried to help her cover her legs with the blanket. He even took his jacket off to cover her impropriety, making himself the spectacle in his shirtsleeves. Each time his hands brushed against her legs heat rose in her cheeks bringing out a deep blush.
Debra watched Lord Trenton as he busied himself by moving around the barn collecting wood. She’d learned from her governess it was inappropriate to be in the company of a man you were not married to without a chaperon. He was obviously uncomfortable with only her company, but she found the situation useful for her book. Imagining Cordelia and Percival in this situation, she wondered what they would speak about.
Her imagination soared with possibilities of how to bring about a kiss when she was rudely interrupted by Lord Trenton’s voice.
“Lady Debra, this is highly inappropriate, and I cannot imagine ever speaking such words to a lady, yet I find we are in a bit of a predicament and society be hanged, I fear you will catch your death in those wet clothes.”
Looking to the door of the barn, Debra motioned with her head. “You wish to go back out in this storm?”
He cleared his throat with a visible tension. “No, my lady, but I do have a change of clothing and I wondered if you would like to make use of them.”
If ever there were a moment to blush it would be now. Debra’s eyes went wide as she considered his offer. She was dreadfully cold to where the shivers wouldn’t stop, yet he was correct to say it was inappropriate. Looking down at her legs, covered by his jacket she knew they’d already crossed the line of impropriety. Without thinking further, she nodded her head and accepted the clothing.
“How would you like me to help?”
“Help?” Her words came out in a loud squeak.
Lord Trenton looked frightened. “I did not mean what you think. I meant I could hold the blanket as a shield, or I could even go outside.” Making a decision right there, he nodded. “I will go outside. Please let me know when you are proper.”
“No, you cannot go back out there. You are still very cold and wet. You will certainly catch your death. If you stand facing that corner, I will stay over here.”
Surely no one would blame them for this action. Her riding habit was worse than having her wear his britches. She smiled as his body language told her he was unsure of this decision, but he was the one to offer the clothing.
Chapter 4
Ignoring her perfectly shaped eyes and pink cheeks, Alex held the clothing out to her before turning to go to the corner of the barn. He’d much rather be at his destination sitting by a warm fire eating an excellent meal than in this current conundrum. It was a near laughable situation, he’d never known anyone to experience such and knew he’d never tell another living soul of this day, if given the choice. He wouldn’t be in this situation if Lady Margaret hadn’t stomped on his heart and refused his offer of marriage. Perhaps, he thought, this assignation could help heal his heart and pride.
He shouldn’t have let his mind wander to Margaret. The purpose of this trip and house party was to help him move forward and forget about the woman he thought he loved. Margaret made him believe she was the only woman who would ever love him, and for years he’d believed her.
He shook his head torturing himself over the London Seasons wasted chasing after a woman who was feigning interest in him during the summer. He’d excused every flirtation with other men, as Margaret told him it was her right of passage as the daughter of a duke to have London seasons.
“How can I settle with marriage if I haven’t had the opportunity to flirt and find new friends?” Her excuses made him uncomfortable, but he’d brushed them off as youth. “Marriage is important for connections. If I do not have different connections than you, how am I to help our union?” He even stupidly thought they had an understanding from when she was sixteen, and perhaps it started out that way, but when she entered society everything changed. He’d turned into the friend she spent time with, and other men became her focus for marriage.
He’d been starry eyed and stupid unable to realize what was happening. Shaking his head over the memory of the previous week when Margaret’s duplicity had been revealed, his anger took him to Whites where he’d stupidly agreed to travel to the Isle of Wight to meet Kate Richardson the younger sister of his friend Samuel. He didn’t expect much to come of the connection, as she was similar to Margaret and he’d sworn off all women of the same caliber, yet he’d come.
Standing with his face in the corner, as though he’d been a naughty child sent to the spot for punishment, he listened and waited. He knew women took time to dress but was shocked it was taking her as long as it did and a part of him wondered if she’d possibly swooned. He leaned against the wood of the barn and waited shivering from the cold. This was a predicament. He’d promised not to turn around and look, so if she had swooned, he would not know. When he was about to inquire, when he heard her call out.
Chapter 5
“Will you help me?” She didn’t want to ask, but the buttons on her dress were impossible to undo alone when they were dry. Wet it was quite possibly worse. It was one reason her parents gave her a lady’s maid. She considered the implications of asking for Lord Trenton’s help and the uncomfortable situation it would cause between them, but it was the only option to get out of the wet clothing. She vowed, if he tried to take advantage of her, she would gouge his eyes out with her fingernails. Although, inwardly she wondered if it would be possible to do. He looked rather strong and seemed such a nice man he wouldn’t dare take such liberties.
“What do you need?” His voice was hesitant. A part of her thought of telling him to forget she asked, but the dry clothing in her hands were too tempting as the shivering of her body was increased.
“I cannot undo my dress and stays… will you please help me?” She spoke quickly, hoping he hadn’t heard. For if he asked her to repeat it, she wouldn’t dare. The heat in her cheeks was surprisingly welcome as she’d been far too cold. If her mother and father knew what she was asking, they’d have her married by special license before the following morning.
Although ice rain pounded on the barn, the sound was nothing to Lord Trenton’s footsteps as he closed the distance between them. Clearing his throat as he stood behind her, he said, “I would close my eyes to give you privacy, but this would take longer.”
Nervous and praying for the moment to end she angrily replied, “Just keep your eyes open and only look to the buttons.”
“I can p
romise you, that is all I will do.”
She held her breath as he unbuttoned her dress. Closed her eyes as tight as she could and thought about the novel she was writing. Could the experiences in this barn truly be used to round out her story line? She wondered how Lord Percival would have responded to the request of helping a lady with her dress and stays and giggled inside because he was supposed to be a rake. He would make an inappropriate comment to make Cordelia blush.
Her mind went back to the current situation as the very real and very handsome Lord Alexander Evans Earl of Trenton stood behind her, his fingers brushed her neck. The chill of his touch spread through her body joining with a new desire for more of his touch. As he finished with her dress, his hands moved down to her waist working to figure out her stays. Every movement of his hands either tightened or loosened the wet stays sending her nerves on end for fear of discovery. If only he could hear the thoughts of her mind, he’d know she hoped he would kiss her. This way she could know how to write about such things. When the release in pressure came, she let out her breath and waited for the words telling her he was finished.
Clearing his throat, he asked with a husky voice, “Do you need anything else?”
“No—” her voice squeaked. She cringed at the high pitch as he would ascertain her level of embarrassment.
“I will go back to my corner so you can finish.” With his departure, she experienced another wave of heat in her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she croaked not daring to look behind to see if he was in his spot. She stood in numb shock at what she’d done. Taking deep breaths to calm her pounding heart she finally moved to finish changing her clothes. Taking her time, she pulled the belt from her habit and used it to make the britches stay up. If there were a looking glass, she would burst into laughter at the sight. With an effort at modesty, she checked over her body to ensure coverage before speaking again. “You may turn around now.”
Wit & Intrigue (An Assignation to Remember Book 1) Page 2