Page 73 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
Just before she landed, Vaughan grabbed her around the waist, the jolt leaving her gasping. Slowly, he pulled her upright.
“Are you all right?” he asked, turning her to face him.
“I think so.” Gingerly, she set her foot on the ground, and pain flared in her ankle. She winced. “On second thought, I might have twisted my ankle.”
To her surprise, he scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the folly. He kicked the door open and lowered her carefully onto the same bench she’d been sitting on earlier. He knelt in front of her and cupped one of his hands around her calf, using the other to lift the hem of her skirt.
His hand slid lower, and he gently probed her ankle. She hissed, flames licking at her nerves.
“I suspect you’re right about it being twisted,” he said.
He met her gaze, and she searched his face for any hint of affection. With how tenderly he’d held her, and the care he’d taken not to hurt her more than necessary, surely he must feel some affection for her. Even a tiny bit.
But as always, she couldn’t read his cool gray eyes.
“We need to get you back so we can summon a doctor to make sure it’s not broken.” He sat beside her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll help you walk. Lean on me, and let me take your weight.”
Awkwardly, they got to their feet. Emma tried using her foot, but the ankle crumpled beneath her, and Vaughan’s support was the only reason she didn’t fall again.
“This isn’t working. I’ll carry you, but wait here for a moment.”
He strode into the rain and returned with the hamper, which he placed just inside the folly.
“We’ll come back for it later,” he said.
With a grunt, he lifted her again. She clung to him as he carried her out to a large gelding she’d seen Vaughan riding before.He lowered her gently to the ground.
“Put your good foot in the stirrup.” He guided her into position. “Now pull up. I’ll hoist you from behind.”
Her eyes widened as his hand landed firmly on her bottom and lifted her into the saddle. A moment later, he’d gracefully mounted behind her and was sheltering her with his body.
“Hold on to the front of the saddle,” he ordered.
She gripped onto the pommel and steadied herself as he eased the horse forward. They moved more slowly than she’d have liked, but with the rain stinging her face and the wind whipping her hair, she couldn’t blame him for being hesitant to go faster.
Each of the horse’s footsteps jostled her ankle, and pain flared over and over again. She bit her lip and refused to whimper. Complaining wouldn’t get her anywhere. Vaughan couldn’t click his fingers and magically have them back at Ashford Hall just because she wished it so.
She inhaled through her nose, then sputtered as water filled her nostrils.
“All right?” Vaughan called near her ear.
“Fine,” she yelled back, deciding it would be best to breathe through her mouth from now on.
She shivered. Her fingers were becoming numb where they clasped the pommel, and her knuckles ached. She couldn’t feel her toes, and even the press of Vaughan’s chest against her back didn’t bring her any warmth. She was cold to her core.
Finally, the silhouette of the house loomed before them, and Vaughan brought the horse to a stop. A stable boy raced over—he must have been awaiting their arrival.
Vaughan slid off the horse’s back, and Emma swayed in the saddle. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been relying on him to keep her in place. But before she could fall, his hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her off and down.
She expected him to set her on her feet, but instead he cradled her in his arms as his long legs ate up the distancebetween them and the house. Once inside, he called for the housekeeper.
“Summon a doctor,” he told Mrs. Travers. “The duchess has twisted her ankle.”
Mrs. Travers wrung her hands. “Oh, dear. It’ll be a miracle if the pair of you don’t catch pneumonia from this too.”
“God, I hope not. Can you summon her maid?”
Emma leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled. His voice was rumbly, and she could listen to him all day.
