Page 58 of The Duke's Spinster Bride
He chewed on his lip. “I do not think it is broken, but I will ask someone to contact the physician just to be sure. You have a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing too serious. Do you think you can stand on that leg?”
“I am not sure.” Andrea’s voice was oddly breathless.
Frederick glanced around and saw his horse not too far from them. He swept Andrea into his arms, making her yelp, and walked towards the horse. He placed her onto it before climbing on behind her.
His heart seemed to be settling. The warmth of her pressed against him was a reminder that she was real, that she was safe. He felt his shoulders relax as the smell of jasmine washed over him.
“If I move into a canter, will you be able to balance?” His breath moved her hair and he felt her tense against him.
“I think so.” Her muscles eased.
He nodded and urged the horse from a trot to a canter, holding her tightly as they sped back towards the castle. As they approached, he waved to one of the servants who was walking along the driveway.
“Send for the physician, the Duchess is hurt.” Frederick slowed the horse and gestured to the man.
The servant’s eyes widened and he nodded, before sprinting away. Frederick slipped from the horse, helping Andrea down. Other servants came towards them.
“Your Grace?” Mr. Jenkins appeared, wringing his hands. “What is going on?”
“Mr. Jenkins, there was an incident with the carriage.” He felt Andrea stiffen against him. “Please have some of the grooms fetch it and the horses, they are not too far from here – on the main road heading North.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mr. Jenkins waved several servants over and barked instructions. “Is there anything else you will require?”
“Have some boiled rags, clean water and some of the healing salves the cook makes to the drawing room. I have sent someone for the physician, when he arrives, kindly show him to the drawing room as well.” Frederick put an arm around Andrea, letting her lean on him for support as they made their way up the stairs.
Mr. Jenkins nodded and turned from them, moving in the direction of the kitchens as Frederick and Andrea made their way towards the drawing room.
“I can carry you again if walking is too painful.” He studied her face; it was so pale.
“If I say yes, will that count as my asking for help this week?” Andrea’s eyes sparkled, and she gave him a small smile.
He chuckled softly. “We shall see, Duchess.”
He lifted her gently into his arms. At first, she stiffened against him, but as he moved forwards, her body softened, her head resting against his chest. He could not tell if it was her heart that was beating so loudly or his own.
Swallowing, he placed her on the sofa, arranging the pillows so that she could sit up more easily, her legs outstretched. She fidgeted while he arranged the pillows, trying to do it herself and then yelping whenever she strained her foot.
“Just let me help you.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “You cannot do everything yourself.”
She bit her lip. “But I have already caused you so much trouble and I do not want to cause you anymore. Really, I am sure I will be fine. You do not need to stay with me, I can manage.”
“You will cause more trouble if you keep resisting. The servants no doubt have duties to attend to, and I have some knowledge of medicine.” He attempted to give her a confident grin, but it felt more like a grimace. “You have to when your cousins are Dorson and Elington.”
Andrea laughed softly and the sound eased a knot in his chest. She looked at him with wide eyes, and a trembling bottom lip. “I suppose you are rather furious with me.”
He leaned backwards, his brow creasing. “I am more furious with myself.”
Servants appeared with steaming bowls of water, white cloths and a pungent salve that made both of them wrinkle their noses.
“It smells awful, and it will sting like- well, it will sting when I put it on you. But it is very effective.” Frederick took a cloth in his hand, dipping it in water and wringing it out as he dabbed at Andrea’s skin. “You will tell me if it is too much. If you need me to be gentler.”
She rolled her eyes and he found the gesture oddly comforting.There is definitely something wrong with me.“I may have taken a fall, but I am not made of porcelain. You do not have to treat me as though I might break at the slightest touch.”
“You are hurt, and I have no wish to add to your discomfort.” He shrugged.
The memory of her falling from the carriage filled his mind. His chest constricted as though an invisible hand had clamped down hard on him, squeezing impossibly tight.She is safe. She is home.
The smell of rain threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it away, focusing on the task at hand. At first, Andrea fidgeted beneath his touch, but as he continued, she stilled. He wiped away the mud and dirt, cleaning the cloth between swipes. His heart twisted as he saw the cuts and grazes on her skin.
