Page 20 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
“No, and do not think to argue with me,” Nash warned.
Johnson was not pleased, but he did as Nash ordered, arranging the woman on his seat and helping him lift her so he could bear some of her weight. The valet called out to the driver to move on and sat back to stare suspiciously at the woman.
“She is unconscious, Johnson. She cannot see your stares.”
“Then she is fortunate. She seems to be a commoner, Your Grace. Her cloak is shabby, and her dress seems old.”
“And?”
“You went to all this trouble to save a person you do not know. She could be a thief or something worse.”
“She is still human, Johnson,” Nash replied, growing annoyed with the man. “Something terrible must have happened to her, and it would be evil just to leave her to whatever fate may come her way. We’ll send for the physician as soon as we get home.”
“Your heart is too good, but Lady Stratford will certainly have something to say about this.”
“I’ll handle my sister,” said Nash. “Once this woman is well, we’ll help locate her family and send her back. They must be wondering where she is.”
“She might not have any family.”
Johnson was right. The woman could be an orphan or perhaps someone’s wife. No one as beautiful as she was would remain unmarried for long.
I wonder what colour her eyes are. Her hair seems brown, but I am sure I caught a few red specks in the moonlight.
The floral scent he had smelt outside had clung to his clothes, but he didn’t mind. Nash had expected to pick up the unwashed body of a commoner, but the woman smelt fresh and clean.
Her clothes were indeed shabby, but they were also clean despite the bit of dirt on them. This was a woman who took care of herself or had come from a good home.
Sunlight washed into the carriage several hours later, but the woman never stirred once. Nash was grateful for the light because it helped him see more of the unconscious woman.
“You have not stopped studying her since we picked her up,” Johnson commented.
Nash looked away from the woman, his face growing warm. It seemed his valet had been studying him.
“I’m trying to think about her story,” Nash half-lied. “It’s not often you find unconscious women on the side of the road.”
“I did not think it ever happened until today. Hopefully, the physician will declare her well enough to get up and go.”
“Do not be so uncaring, Johnson,” Nash mildly scolded him. “You would want someone to help you if you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” the man conceded. “Very well, I will not say anything else about the subject. Perhaps I should get off the carriage along the way and return with the physician. That would be better than getting to the estate and then finding someone to call the physician.”
“Good thinking, Johnson. You’re helpful when you’re not trying to undermine my actions.”
The man’s eyes widened. “I would never undermine you, Your Grace.”
“Not purposefully,” Nash added. “But out of concern. However, I believe this woman is harmless and will have a good explanation for her condition.”
They said nothing else until they reached town, and the valet got off the carriage with a promise to be along shortly with the physician. Nash moved on, anxious to get home and put the unconscious woman on a bed. It would be far more comfortable for her than a carriage seat.
He called for the servants as soon as they reached the estate, ignoring their surprised looks when he stepped out of the carriage with the woman.
“Tell Mrs Black to ready a guest room, Kitty,” he told the maid who had come to welcome him home.
The woman ran off, yelling for the housekeeper once inside. Nash winced and smiled at the same time. The woman lacked decorum, but she was one of the most cheerful, honest servants he had ever had in his employ.
Stevens came out, his eyes bulging at the woman in Nash’s hands. “Who is she, Your Grace?”
“A stranger,” Nash said truthfully. “We found her injured on the side of the road.”
