Page 30 of In Need of a Duke
“You can’t leave,” he yelled again.
She circled the horse, waiting by the trees as if she was uncertain. He wished to charge after her but something within had him pulling on the rein and controlling his horse. Her horse nervously hooved the ground as she leaned down to calm it.
“Charlotte…”
The evening they met, years ago now, she had been hiding along the wall in a yellow dress. Her hair had been decorated with fresh sprays of flowers, and she had been the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. He had crossed the crush of the ballroom to be introduced to her, and when she had looked up at him with those sad, blue eyes of hers, he had seen the same look on her face that she had now—fear.
“We need to talk,” he said, holding out his hand. Hail began pelting down from the sky.
She bent down and whispered something to the horse, then sat straight, shaking her head.
Before he could counter, she rode hard through the narrow clearing and approached a large stone wall. Furious, he rode just as hard until it was too late.
The horse jumped but didn’t clear the wall, throwing Charlotte and landing hard on its flank.
Snow flurries and hail spit from the sky as the wind roared, and Ian heard the pained cry of the horse.
He dismounted and scrambled over the wall, certain he would find Charlotte running.
Except the horse emitted an ungodly scream and was convulsing on the ground, clearly gravely injured from not making the jump.
And Charlotte was face down in the river several feet away, her body limp and unmoving.
CHAPTER 7
It might have beena lifetime before he vaulted over the wall or a moment, all Ian knew was he had to reach Charlotte.
Snow and ice swirled around as black clouds raced over the forest overhead. He threw off his jacket and dove into the water, cutting through the current to reach her.
“Charlotte!”
He gently reached under her body and flipped her, cupping his hand beneath her head. Blood stained his hands, her face was pale, and his stomach twisted at how blue her lips were tinged.
“Answer me, answer me. Charlotte.”
That water was too cold, and she wasn’t speaking.
“Open your eyes. Can you hear me?”
He wrapped his arms around her body and floated her to shore. When the horse threw her…
“Charlotte, wake up.”
He rolled her onto her side and struck his hand against her back, gently, uncertain if she had swallowed any water. She was so cold beneath his touch, so still…
When she didn’t respond, he positioned her onto her back and tilted her chin, his eyes surveying her body. Charlotte must havestruck her head. Her blonde hair was sticky with crimson blood. Her arm appeared as if it was broken, and between the cuts marring her skin, he was certain she was bruised.
But she would wake up.
She must.
“Charlotte, you need to answer me. You can’t run off like that. Can’t…” his voice caught in his throat as the ice lashed against his skin. “You never should have jumped.”
He didn’t know where to place his hands. He needed to stop the bleeding. He needed her to wake up.
“Help!” Ian screamed up into the sky. Up into the far-stretching reaches of Cumbria with the way the words ripped from his lungs, and still it wasn’t enough.
Charlotte couldn’t leave.
