Page 57 of Foes, Friends and Lovers
As soon as Lucinda, who was tallish and strong, had William in hand again, Caitlin collected Gregory’s clothes and hurried back to him. After persuading and prodding him into the overcoat, she wrapped his muffler around his neck, draped his coat and waistcoat over her arm, then caught one of his limp arms and drew it over her shoulder. Drawing him away from the support of the tree, she gripped his waist tightly. “Come along—it’s not that far.”
Of course, the Pooles’ cottage was farther than any of them liked. They hadn’t gone any great distance before Hattie came pelting back with two thick blankets. Caitlin took one and wrapped it tightly around Gregory, who had started to shiver uncontrollably. His face was white, and every inch of skin she could see seemed the same—close to frozen.
Resuming her place by his side, she urged him on and tried not to think of all the stories of people who survived potentially lethal accidents only to die later of some complication, like a chill or a fever of the lungs.
He was still breathing and more or less walking. She told herself to cling to that and focus on getting him warm again.
The hundred or so yards to the Pooles’ cottage seemed like miles, but eventually, hugely relieved that they’d made the distance, she eased a stumbling Gregory through the door. Lucinda had sent Hattie back to the cottage to build up the fire and put water on to boil. As the warmth of the cottage enveloped them, she steered Gregory toward one of the stools set before the hearth. “Hattie, your mother might need help.”
Lucinda and William had fallen behind. Hattie nodded and, her eyes wide, raced out of the cottage.
Caitlin eased Gregory down to the stool. Once she was sure he was balanced there, she went to step away, but he caught her hand and, to her surprise, carried it to his lips and brushed an icy kiss to her knuckles.
“Thank you,” he croaked.
Her heart was thudding hard and fast. She took refuge in a snort. “I didn’t do anything—it was you who jumped into the river.”
His lids had drifted closed, but his lips curved in a small smile. “But it was you who thought of fetching the rope, wasn’t it?”
Puzzled, she admitted, “Yes.”
His tone sank low as he said, “If it hadn’t been for that rope…”
She gripped his shoulder hard. “Don’t even think it. You’re here, and William is, too. That’s all that matters.”
At that moment, the Pooles arrived and shuffled inside, and Hattie and Lucinda settled William on the second stool. Caitlin rushed to close the door, and Hattie bent and quickly built the already decent fire into a roaring blaze.
Without further ado, the three women set about doing what, in such situations, women always did, namely caring for their menfolk.
They urged William to strip off his wet clothes. Lucinda held up a blanket to protect his modesty, and Hattie brought him dry clothes to don.
“What happened?” Lucinda asked. “You’re too experienced to have just fallen in.”
From behind the blanket, William mumbled, “It was the root I was hacking to pieces. It was a yard or more back from the bank—safe enough, I thought. Turned out the river had undercut the bank just there, and suddenly, the whole section gave way, and I was in the water.”
Lucinda turned her head and, her face a picture of gratitude, looked at Gregory. “Just as well Mr. Cynster was here.”
Gregory managed a weak smile and an even weaker dismissive wave. “I only did what any other strong swimmer would have.”
“Nevertheless, you have this family’s eternal thanks,” Lucinda sternly replied, her tone brooking no argument.
Gregory had the sense to smile sweetly and keep his lips shut.
Caitlin had prepared tea and supplied him with a tin mug of the strong, highly sweetened brew and set another mug aside for William.
Once they had William in dry clothes and sitting on the stool, sipping tea, Caitlin and Lucinda studied the lad.
“How do you feel?” Lucinda asked.
William meekly replied, “Chilled to the bone, but the fire and the tea are thawing me out. I swallowed some water, but other than that”—one at a time, he stretched out his long legs, then his arms—“I took no hurt.” He glanced at Gregory. “Thanks to Mr. Cynster.” He raised his mug to Gregory. “My deepest thanks, sir.”
Again, Gregory simply smiled.
Arms crossed, Caitlin regarded William, then glanced at Lucinda. “I’ll ask Alice to come down and take a look at him. No need to risk any chest complaints.”
Lucinda laid a hand on her arm. “Thank you, my dear. That would greatly ease my mind. Indeed, it was and is a blessing that you are with us as well.”
Caitlin also knew to simply smile at comments like that. Briskly, she swung to study Gregory. “Your turn.”
