Page 6 of Duke in Shining Armor
“I need to place you in the buggy,” James explained. After all, he did not wish to end up with a bullet hole in his body this day.
He would never live down being shot by a woman, and one that he was attempting to rescue, no less. He needed to prevent such a malarkey.
“I understand, Your Grace.”
James placed one of his arms under her legs and supported her back with the other while he lifted and cradled her. She smelled of roses, a delicate fragrance which filled his nostrils. His breath caught in his throat when he heard her sigh, being that it reminded him of a sigh of satisfaction. He gently placed her in the buggy and lifted her right foot to place atop his tailcoat.
“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed.
James’s eyes went quickly to her face, and he was at a loss for words. He had never heard a lady use such language. It was not tolerated in genteel society, and he could tell from her attire that she was a lady of genteel breeding.
She grimaced. “I offer apologies, Your Grace. That pain was rather sharp.”
James peered at her, and he was certain he could distinguish a sparkle in her eyes. Perhaps she deliberately wanted to shock his senses or merely found his reaction amusing.
How remarkable.
He retrieved one of his riding flasks. “I have some brandy in this flask, and I suggest you take a sip to fortify you for the journey.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said before taking two healthy swigs.
If James was expecting her to choke or splutter, he was sadly mistaken.
“I think it is best for this flask to remain with me, Your Grace.”
“As you wish,” James replied.
He directed the buggy toward Pembroke Estates, wondering what the outcome of this encounter would be and why he was so interested to find out.
Upon arrival, James could see the staff waiting in the courtyard for the buggy to arrive. The groom had indeed been swift for Dr. Blackwell was also present. James quickly directed the staff to take the ladies to the guest chambers while he apprised Dr. Blackwell of the situation.
CHAPTER3
Furrowed brow, set above beautiful hazel eyes, a strong jaw, and stern lips. Catherine’s breath quickened ever so slightly. As she reposed on a comfortable bed in a lush bedchamber, her pained foot propped on a pillow, she reflected on the first impression of the gentleman who had rescued her. She gripped the edges of the sheet beneath her, for Catherine’s heart once again raced at the fear she had felt upon seeing a strange man crouched so powerfully above her. His handsomeness had shocked her, then she’d inanely thought,are you a villain or a knight in shining armor?
She was grateful that she had been staring into a handsome face rather than one of the horrid highwaymen’s faces. The duke was caring, covering her with his tailcoat and ensuring that Helen was comfortable before he had gone to seek help. In addition to being quite dashing, the duke appeared to be an agreeable man.
There was a knock on the door, and Catherine turned her head on the pillow to stare at the door. “Come in.”
An older distinguished-looking gentleman entered and peered at her through his spectacles.
“Good evening, my name is Dr. Blackwell, and I am the physician in these parts.”
His warm manner eased some of the tension weaving through her chest. “I am pleased to meet you, though the circumstances are unfortunate. I am Lady Catherine Da…” She paused briefly, instinctively keeping back her family surname. “I was on my way to the port to board a ship bound to Switzerland. We had the misfortune of being set upon by highwaymen, the coachman was shot, the horses bolted, and the carriage crashed.”
Catherine realized how incredulous her words sounded as soon as she uttered them. She still could not believe it had all happened.
Compassion softened his features. “A rather unfortunate set of circumstances. I have checked on your lady’s maid. She is alive, but in sort of a deep sleep so I must continue to tend to her. She suffered a nasty bump on her head but appears otherwise unharmed. May I examine your ankle?”
Catherine winced as the physician poked and prodded her ankle and calf.
“I do not feel pain anywhere else although there is bruising from the fall.”
“I see. Your ankle is broken, and the bone must be splinted to allow it to heal correctly. I need to use plâtre coulé which is a sort of bandage that will remain on your ankle until it is healed. I am afraid you will not be able to travel for at least the next fortnight until it is healed.”
“Oh dear,” Catherine replied when her thought was really,I’ll be damned.
She was going to miss her departure to Switzerland, and worse still she needed to remain in England until her ankle was healed. This could not be happening. What on earth was she to do?
