Page 60 of Marrying a Reluctant Lady
“You were having a nightmare,” Owen explained gently. “We’re safe now. We're here.”
Ophelia breathed in deeply. In the dream, she was still trapped, the fire advancing on her, the smoke suffocating. Shelooked up at Owen, feeling a blend of relief and wonder.
“You saved me,” she murmured.
“I only thank God that I could,” Owen said, voice thick with emotion.
Ophelia stared up at him, seeing the fear in the tightness around his eyes. She smiled, resting her palm on his cheek.
“I’m all right,” she said gently. “We’re safe.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “We are.”
He bent down and lifted her up and Ophelia blinked, looking around as he carried her up the stairs. They were at a townhouse, somewhere in one of the older neighborhoods in London. She didn’t see enough to recognize where they were, but then Owen was trying to knock at the door and a butler opened it. He beamed at Owen, then, when his gaze moved toward Ophelia, he frowned.
“My lord. Is something the matter...?”
“We experienced some unforeseen events,” Owen said with an attempt at casualness. “If you could tell Lord Alford we are here?”
“Of course, my lord. Come inside. If the lady needs assistance...?” He paused, his gaze moving to Ophelia again. Owen shook his head.
“She has seen the physician. She’s just weary and in need of a place to rest.”
“Very good, my lord.”
The butler went into the house and Owen carried Ophelia indoors. She noticed at once how warm she felt. She shut her eyes again, too tired to keep them open, and heard footsteps hurrying down the stairs.
“Owen! Good Heavens! Mr. Hargreave told me something terrible has happened. Lady Ivystone! What has befallen you?”
Ophelia heard Owen swallow hard. “Someone set our house on fire,” he told Leonard directly.
“What?” Leonard shouted. Ophelia felt Owen tense, and she opened her eyes. Leonard was standing in front of them, his face twisted with anger.
“It’s all right,” Owen said gently. “Ophelia is not badly hurt. Shaken, and poisoned from the smoke. She needs a place to rest for tonight, and so I immediately thought of you.”
“Of course. Of course. You don’t need to ask,” Leonard said at once, his usual humor and lightheartedness replaced with something more serious.
“Thank you, Leonard.”
“Don’t mention it.” His voice was firm.
Ophelia heard Owen chuckle and then she felt him carry her up the stairs and Leonard was opening a door and Owen was settling her on a soft surface.
“I’ll send Mr. Hargreave to light the fire,” Leonard said from the door. “I wasn’t expecting visitors, but this room is always made up.”
“Thank you, Leonard,” Owen repeated.
“As I said, no need to mention it.”
Ophelia heard the door shut and she lay back on the bed. She felt utterly exhausted, and when she tried to breathe deeply, she could still feel pain in her lungs. Her head felt fuzzy as though a fog was in her brain.
“You can rest here for the night, sweetling,” Owen said gently. “We’re going to stay here with Leonard until provision can be made.”
“And the servants?” Ophelia whispered.
Owen smiled. “They’re on their way over here now. Mr. Crane is driving the cart. They should be here soon.”
“Good.”
