Page 10 of Lady Controversial
‘I can assure you that your sister is unlikely to create any concern for her wellbeing on my part, but in the unlikely event that she does, I shall be careful not to voice such concerns lest I wake up at the altar the following day. Now, what else have you done to yourself?’
Ellery tutted at her torn sleeve and the dried blood on her arm. He suspected that the leg she had twisted and on which she now found it difficult to place her weight had also suffered. However, much as he would like to do so though, even he wouldn’t go so far as to examine the offending limb.
‘There’s only one thing for it,’ he said.
With no further explanation, because he knew she would raise objections, he strode across to Legacy and took up his reins. Without giving Miss Crawley time to realise his intentions, he lifted her from the rock upon which she had seated herself and placed her sideways on the stallion’s back, across the front of his saddle. With Henry’s lead rope in his hand, he swung up behind her, fitting snuggly—far too snuggly—against her posterior.
‘Comfortable?’ he asked innocently.
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder but instead of the glower he had been expecting and probably richly deserved, she smiled broadly. ‘It has been many a long month since I sat on a decent horse,’ she said, regret underlying her words. ‘It is the one thing I miss above all else.’
Lost for words, Ellery pushed Legacy forward into a sedate walk, hoping that the stallion wouldn’t choose that particular moment to play up. Fortunately, their earlier gallop seemed to have settled him, and his behaviour was impeccable. He made do with just the odd snort and shake of his head as his dog—herdog—scampered along beside them, tail wagging.
Ellery would be the first to admit that the arrangement was entirely inappropriate, some might say shocking, but he simply didn’t give a damn. This was his land, Miss Crawley was injured, and there was no other means of transport available.
Except that there was, of course. He could have ridden back to Finchdean Hall and given his servants instructions to collect Miss Crawley in a carriage, deliver her home and then dismiss the incident from his mind. But that alternative didn’t once occur to him. Instead, he braced himself for the barrage of objections that Miss Crawley probably felt were within her rights to voice. He was not entirely surprised when she made no comment, not even when his arms circled her waist in order to hold the reins and guide Legacy’s path.
Chapter Four
Isolda decided that she must definitely have a concussion, even though her brain felt perfectly clear and her entire body thrummed with an alien sensation that was as pleasurable as it likely was inappropriate. But her brain must have taken a knock, since she had convinced herself that she was now riding a magnificent stallion with Lord Finchdean’s muscular person behind and pressed far too closely against her. In her imagination she could even feel his breath peppering the side of her neck, and the simple contact made her shiver all the way to her toes. She felt unnaturally warm but justified her temporary loss of wits when she realised that the pain caused by her tumble had been eradicated by the power of her overactive mind.
It was most unlike her to harbour such unrealistic fantasies. She was far too practical and had much better ways to occupy her time, not least of which was keeping a leaky roof over her family’s head and ekeing out their dwindling funds until such time as Jane’s spectacular marriage absolved Isolda from any further responsibility for her welfare.
That was not their only course of redress, of course. It would be foolish for Isolda to pin all her hopes on her rather silly sister’s prospects. She knew that perfectly well, and she did harbour expectations of another sort. Lord Brooke would come good on his promise, she was absolutely sure of it. Papa had lost his estate to his closest friend in a ridiculously high-stakes game that he should have known better than to participate in. But there again, Papa never could resist a wager—especially once Mama was no longer there to remind him of his responsibilities.
Lord Brooke had been most reluctant to take possession of the estate following Papa’s demise and had promised faithfully that he would not see them starve. Indeed, he had generously offered them the opportunity to remain in residence, but Isolda knew how that would have looked to the outside world and that it would have adversely affected Jane’s marital prospects. He had seemed discomposed, that’s not to say surprised by her reticence but accepted her decision. He was an honourable gentleman, even if she had never liked him much, and she chose to believe that he was also a man of his word.
‘We are nearing Rose Cottage.’ These were the first words that Isolda had spoken since being lifted onto the earl’s stallion—a situation that she could no longer pass off as a flight of fancy. She was encircled within the safety of arms that appeared to touch her sides far more often than the guidance of the reins made strictly necessary. Not that Isolda was complaining. The contact was…pleasurable. That was the only concession she was willing to allow herself. ‘You had best let me down here. It wouldn’t do for us to be seen like…this.’
The earl chuckled. ‘Are you ashamed of me?’
‘Ridiculous man!’ She laughed in spite of herself. ‘I was thinking more of your reputation.’
‘And yet it is yours that is more likely to suffer.’ She glanced over her shoulder and noticed that his expression had turned reflective. ‘I should have considered such a thing.’
‘Pray don’t give the matter another thought. I have already told you that I’ve withdrawn from the marriage mart. Not that I was ever a part of it, but that is beside the point. Anyway, there is no one here other than my sister, who is probably still in bed, and the two loyal servants who have not deserted us.’
‘Why would your sister be abed when you are obviously running yourself ragged? Surely she desires to ease your burden.’
Isolda smiled and shook her head. ‘You will better understand the answer to that question when you have enjoyed the dubious pleasure of making her acquaintance—which by coming here you will not be able to avoid doing. Not that there’s any reason why you would want to avoid it, of course. It was mean of me to suggest otherwise. Jane is a vision and you will be delighted with her, but to answer your question…’ She paused to choose her words with care. ‘Suffice it to say that Jane is accustomed to a certain standard of living and does not understand the pressing need for economies.’
‘Is she simple-minded?’
‘No, of course not.’ Loyalty prevented Isolda from pointing out that she was just selfish. ‘I blame our aunt. In generously sponsoring Jane’s coming-out, she has reinforced Jane’s conviction that economies are unnecessary. She is convinced that she will make a good marriage, partly because she has been complimented upon her appearance all her life, and will thus resolve our problems in one fell swoop.’ Isolda sighed. ‘I remain to be convinced that it will be as straightforward as that.’
‘Matters of the heart seldom are.’
‘My father died by his own hand after ruining himself, which probably does not come as news to you so I see little profit in concealing the fact. One of the consequences of his selfish and irresponsible behaviour is that Jane doesn’t have a dowry. Provision was made, I believe, but I suppose Papa fell back on it…’ Isolda threw back her head and sighed. ‘Anyway, what Jane fails to appreciate is that looks alone may not be enough to secure the union she desires.’
‘It’s impossible to know.’
‘I dare say you are targeted all the time by the matchmakers, which must become tiresome. Anyway, here we are.’
Isolda sensed his sharp intake of breath when he steered his stallion and the obliging Henry in the direction of the barn used to stable the cob. Seeing it through his eyes, Isolda could quite understand why he was so shocked. The cottage and outbuildings were shabby to the point of embarrassment, but Isolda straightened her aching shoulders and refused to feel ashamed. It was not her fault that they had been reduced to such squalor. She could have thrown herself upon her aunt’s mercy or accepted Lord Brooke’s offer, but she hadn’t done either of those things and had no reason to feel the embarrassment that nonetheless seeped through her person.
Isolda did feel ashamed, however, when an instinctive little protest escaped her lips as the earl athletically swung from the saddle and then reached up to lift her down.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you,’ he said softly, misinterpreting the reason for her reaction as his strong hands grasping her waist as he lowered her to the ground. She did not feel the need to explain that she would have preferred for their unorthodox journey to have continued indefinitely. That for once she would like to push her daily concerns aside and simply enjoy herself.
