Page 106 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
“Thank you. Please do.” Drago watched the butler and housekeeper hurry back to the house, then he refocused on the seven gentlemen striding purposefully toward him and Meg. He grasped Meg’s elbow and gestured at the group. “We’d better go and allay their fears.”
She nodded, and he stepped out, but when she went to move with him, her legs seemed to fail, and she all but sank to the grass.
Muttering a curse of his own, Drago wasted no breath complaining that she should have said she felt too weak to walk. He swung her into his arms again, settling her there before thanking the outdoor staff who had helped them, and Meg added her gratitude as well. Drago recommended that the pair who were drenched return to the house to dry off, then he started walking—slowly and carefully—to meet the bevy of concerned males descending in a hyperalert and ready-to-be-vengeful platoon.
Predictably, Toby was in the lead, with Aidan, Evan, and Carter close behind. Denton, George, and Harry brought up the rear, their expressions as close to wordlessly horrified as Drago had ever seen them.
The instant he was close enough, Toby demanded, “What the—”
“Yes,” Drago calmly stated, “this was another attack. The second of two since we’ve been here. The first was yesterday afternoon. Obviously, our villain’s motive wasn’t nullified by our wedding.” He paused as Toby halted in front of them.
When Meg’s brother stared frowningly at her, she smiled faintly, reached out, and patted his cheek. “Truly, I’m all right. Just a trifle weak from trying to swim in all these skirts. For the record, I don’t recommend ladies go for a dip fully clothed.”
Aidan snorted. “You sound like your usual argumentative self, so you can’t be all that damaged.”
“She’ll be rather less damaged,” Drago stated in a tone that brooked no argument, “if we go inside and she gets warm and dry.”
“Yes, of course.” Denton stepped back, getting out of Drago’s way.
The others took the hint and did the same.
They all looked grave as they flanked Drago as he carried Meg to the house. Regardless, he thought, none of them were anywhere near as gravely concerned as he.
As they crossed the forecourt, Meg stirred in his arms. “I can walk from here.”
“No need.” He imbued his clipped tones with enough ducal authority to have not just her but the seven gentlemen surrounding them cast swift glances his way.
While the gentlemen were reassured and some of their tension left them, Meg eyed his features, then softly snorted and faced forward.
He carried her up the steps, across the porch, but paused in the front hall to glance at Denton.
His brother nodded. “You go up. We’ll wait in the library.”
Drago nodded his thanks, turned toward the stairs, and carried Meg up and on to their suite.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later,dry and dressed in fresh clothes, but still rubbing his damp hair with a towel, Drago walked through their bedroom and Meg’s dressing room and into her bathing chamber.
With her eyes closed, Meg was reclining in the full-length tub, the water of which was gently steaming. Her hair looked to have been washed, partly dried, and was now piled atop her head.
Rosie was putting bottles of salts and oils away in a small cupboard. At Drago’s signal, the maid quickly set two thick towels on the bench beside the bath, then bobbed a curtsy and left via the corridor door.
At theclickof the latch, Meg cracked open her eyes. She looked at the door, then her gaze swiveled and landed on Drago. “Ah. You’re here.”
“I am.” He leaned against the doorframe and continued to dry his hair. “How do you feel?”
“Truly?” She closed her eyes again. “I feel so thoroughly languid and relaxed, I could lie here for at least another hour, but if I do, the others will start to fret, and with Toby, one never knows what that might lead to.”
Drago decided he didn’t need to defend Toby even if, on this subject, he agreed with her brother. “Out there, beside the lake, you were in shock. You were shivering even though it wasn’t that cold.”
“Shock? I suppose, but it really felt more like horror.” Before he could probe, she went on, “I told you I’m not a strong swimmer. Because of that, I always feared being in deep water and drowning, and of course, with the weight of my skirts, the fear was even worse.”
Unalloyed fury welled, strong and undeniable, inside him.
Then she opened her eyes, found his, and smiled. “But you were there, right beside me, so all was well.” She gripped the sides of the bath and sat up, sending water sluicing over the swells of her breasts. “Regardless, the horror has faded. Now, I’m feeling decidedly angry.”
Drago could understand that.
