Page 59 of Death at Fournier Downs
“Millbury?”
Hugh scaled another prominent shelf on the cliff wall, and finally came within reach of the duchess. Her ledge was just above him now. “Doctor Ryder’s true name.”
“How did you findthatout?”
“Thornton. You see, I didn’t truly discover anything for myself, so will you at least allow me to redeem myself and rescue you from that ledge?”
“I do not need rescuing,” she said, stubborn to the last.
He’d fully expected to see her broken body on the scree at the base of the quarry, so to see her alive, to hear her mulish retort, filled him with an indescribable emotion. It was more than just relief. Infinitely more.
But then, the duchess peered over the ledge, toward the ground below, and with a shudder, she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed back against the quarry wall. “I…I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Why don’t you just lower a rope and pull me up?” Panic pitched her voice higher. Her coloring had paled, and her eyes were still closed. He knew what she was likely seeing: the countess’s body, as she had discovered it.
“I don’t have any rope,” he said, trying to maintain calm and patience. He did not like the looks of the drop any more than she did. Any stumbling or missteps could send them both to Lady Bainbury’s fate.
“I’ll wait here. You can ride back to Fournier House and fetch some and—”
“Audrey. Look at me.” She parted her lashes and met his eyes. He held her stare, unblinking. “I am not going to let you fall.”
His heart thrashed as she nodded, and then, with stiff motions, slid toward him. She swung her legs over the edge of the rock. Hugh beckoned her to come closer, reaching up to grasp her legs firmly. He clutched her hips, and she braced her hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he guided her from the ledge above, to his own. Audrey kept her hands on his shoulders, wincing as she tried to stand.
He slid his arm around her waist and lifted, trying to keep her weight off her injured ankle. “Do you see that wide rock behind me? About ten yards away?”
She nodded, even though her eyes were again squeezed shut. He grinned.
“We’ll move slowly toward it together. Don’t let go of me,” he said.
She huffed a laugh. “No chance of that.”
From the frantic digging of her fingers into his shoulders, he half thought he’d come away with bruises. Not that he cared, so long as he got her across the slim footholds to safety. They shuffled, Audrey opening her eyes just wide enough to view their progress. A few times Hugh had to lower himself to another outcropping while at the same time guiding Audrey with him, the effort enough to make him erupt in sweat. His whole body ached from tension by the time they made it the ten or so yards and finally reached their destination.
The wide rock ledge caught them both, and as soon as they stood upon it, Audrey collapsed against him. Hugh closed his arms around her and drew deep breaths. “That wasn’t so difficult after all,” he lied.
She looked up at him, her hand pressed flat against his waistcoat. “You are delusional.”
As he peered down at her, grinning, rogue thoughts struck, like how perfect she felt tucked next to him. He didn’t want to release her. Didn’t want to move from the safety of this boulder. Hugh dipped his chin as he saw blood on her neck and upon the squared collar of her dress. “She cut you.”
“I don’t feel it,” Audrey replied, her face still turned toward his. She made no move to withdraw from his arms, even when he lifted a hand to touch her neck. The wound wasn’t deep.
“That was much too close,” he said.
“I agree.”
“We rarely do that,” he murmured.
“I must have knocked my head harder than I thought,” she said, and as he watched her lips form an impish grin, the last shred of resistance within him broke. He cupped her cheek.
“You are maddening,” he said. She inhaled, quickly and softly.
“Hugh,” she whispered.
He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, entranced. He waited for her to tell him to stop. To remember himself. Waited for her to pull away. She did none of those things.
Until the duke’s voice rained down upon them.
