Page 17 of The Duke of Desire
Miss Kirkland tried to stand but fell right back down. Her dark eyes were full of fright. “I’ve hurt my ankle.”
“It’s all right,” Clare said. His voice was deep and soothing. The rain began to fall more heavily.
Ivy looked down the hill and was surprised that no one else had come back to see if Miss Kirkland was all right. Some of them were already almost near the bottom. They were clearly in a hurry to get back to Greensward.
Clare adjusted his hat so that the brim was a bit lower over his eyes. “Miss Kirkland, I’m going to carry you down the hill. I’m afraid there’s no help for it. If I leave you here, you’ll become quite drenched.”
Miss Kirkland looked as though she were about to cry. Or maybe she already was. Her face was tilted up to look at Clare, and raindrops were cascading down her cheeks.
“Do you understand?” he asked when she didn’t respond.
“Yes. Please hurry.”
He nodded as he swept her into his arms. He looked toward Ivy. “Can you go ahead and fetch help? I won’t be able to move as quickly.”
“Of course.” Ivy wished she’d thought of that right away instead of watching Clare move into commanding action. It was oddly arousing.
Arousing?
Clenching her teeth, she started off down the hill as quickly as she dared. Every now and again, she turned her head to check their progress. Clare kept a steady pace despite his burden and the rain.
Oh, the bloody rain. It was now coming down even harder, some of it sideways. Ivy’s dress was completely sodden, sticking to her legs and impeding her progress. Still, she started to run, eager to get back.
At last, she reached the rear lawn. Footmen were waiting at the top of the patio stairs with blankets. Ivy ran up the steps. “You must go and help the duke. Miss Kirkland is injured, and he’s carried her down the hill.”
She turned to look back out over the grass and saw them moving slowly against the sweeping torrents of water.
Two of the footmen ran down the stairs and across the lawn. They threw a blanket over Miss Kirkland and another over Clare’s head.
“Come inside, miss,” one of the remaining footmen urged as he handed her a blanket.
Ivy wrapped the soft wool around her head and shoulders but didn’t move. She stood there in the downpour until Clare started up the stairs.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he reached the patio. “Get inside before you catch cold.”
He rushed past her into the house, and she followed him inside.
Wendover was still in the drawing room as they entered. He stared wide-eyed at Miss Kirkland. “Egads, Clare, what happened?”
“She tripped coming down the hill and hurt her ankle.”
“What a disaster.” He looked over at one of the footmen, a rather large, wide-shouldered young man. “Thomas, would you please take Miss Kirkland from the duke?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Clare transferred the pale young woman to the footman as Lady Wendover came into the drawing room, followed by Mrs. Kirkland.
“Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Kirkland cried. “Whatever happened?”
“Come, let’s get her upstairs,” Lady Wendover said, taking charge. She led them from the drawing room, leaving her husband with the handful of drenched guests who were still dripping on the carpet.
“I’ll make sure you all have hot baths,” the earl announced. “And you, Clare, shall have a bottle of my finest whiskey waiting for you upstairs.”
Clare bowed. “Why, thank you. I shall endeavor to rescue someone every day.” This earned laughter from those in the room.
Everyone departed the drawing room, but Ivy hesitated.
“What are you waiting for?” Clare asked. He took his hat off and water sluiced from the brim onto the carpet.
“I’m—” She shook her head, unable to answer his question. “That was remarkable.”
“It was necessary.” His gaze was dark and intense. “I’m not a hero, Miss Breckenridge.”
That she could believe, but she began to wonder if there was more to him than her preconceived notions.
“Ivy?” Lady Dunn came hobbling into the drawing room, leaning on her cane. “Good gracious, you’re sopping wet! Come upstairs and let’s get you dried off.” She waved her arm, beckoning Ivy forward.
Ivy sent one last look toward Clare and left the drawing room.
Today hadn’t gone remotely as planned. She was disappointed about not reaching the top of Wendover Hill. But more than that, she was shocked to realize she looked forward to seeing Clare again.
