The couple was so involved in their tug-of-war that they didn't even hear Aidan approach.
“I believe the lady asked you to let go of her.”
The struggle stopped instantly as Smythe snapped his head around to see who had spoken. “Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” He straightened up a bit. “Go away, Lockwood,” he sneered. “I'm busy.”
Aidan ignored the snub of using his surname rather than his title. “I can see that. However, the lady does not appear to want your company.”
He turned to bestow a smile on the woman, and found himself staring into the most arresting blue eyes he had ever seen. The air left his lungs in a rush, as though he had been punched square in the chest. In the gaslight, he couldn't quite ascertain their exact shade, but they were impossibly large and framed by sooty lashes. The woman's face, however, was smudged with dirt, her dark hair pulled back into what could only be described as a rat’s nest of a chignon that was coming loose from its pins, and her clothes were hopelessly oversized. Yet she wore the expression of a woman ready to do battle with the both of them if necessary. Despite her body language, the fear in her eyes told him all he needed to know. He was not about to let Smythe lead her away. “My apologies, Miss,” he said, nodding to her. “Do speak up if I am incorrect.”
She remained silent and wide-eyed. Aidan ignored her look of disbelief as he reached out and gently took her wrist in his hand, while he dug his other fingers into Smythe's elbow joint and squeezed.
“Might I suggest, Smythe, that you honor the lady's request and be on your way?” Despite his choice of words, it was not a suggestion. He squeezed a little harder—just for emphasis, of course.
Smythe gave in to the pain Aidan was causing him and released his grip. He stumbled back, glaring at Aidan. “She ain't no lady. Why is she of any concern to you?”
Aidan glanced at her. Anger flashed in her eyes, yet she appeared ready to bolt. Clearly, she trusted Aidan no more than Smythe. “A lady, rich or poor,” Aidan began, turning back to the weasel, “should choose to accompany a man, not be forced into it.”
Smythe looked from Aidan to the woman and back again, obviously in a dilemma. Aidan released his hold on her wrist and clasped his hands behind his back. “This is the part where you beg her pardon and bid us ‘good evening’. And might I suggest you not let me catch you in this situation again, Smythe. Next time I may not be in such a good mood.”
Aidan’s threat was not an empty one, and Peter Smythe knew it. One word from the Earl could send him to prison—or worse—for the crime he’d committed against Aidan’s father. Hatred radiated from him as he turned his loathing glance on the girl.
“Beggin' your pardon for the misunderstanding,” he ground out, nodding to her. He shot a black glare at Aidan, spun on his heel, and stormed off down the street. Aidan turned to the mystery woman.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, clearly apprehensive. “Thank you,” she managed. She tightened her threadbare wool cloak around her, her glance darting around the street. She edged away from Aidan.
“What are you doing out at such a late hour? It's dangerous.”
“I…” She fished about for something to say. “I was supposed to meet a friend.” She shifted on her feet, warily looking at the sky when lightning flashed. “I must go.” She tried to move past him, but he stepped in front of her.
“Can I escort you somewhere safe, Miss?”
Her lovely eyes widened in surprise. Aidan knew he should let her pass, but those darned eyes were drawing him in, compelling him to stand his ground. There were secrets in those eyes, and Aidan dearly loved a mystery.
“No. But thank you for coming to my rescue.” She moved away.
“Wait. What is your name?” This was absolute madness. Aidan knew he should have just sent Smythe on his way and been done with it, but he couldn't make himself leave her. She regarded him for a moment, seeming to assess whether or not to impart this information. The wind tossed loose strands of hair about her face, and she reached up a pale hand to keep it under control. His pulse quickened as her lips parted, perhaps with a reply, but it never came because she was interrupted by a shout from across the street.
“Ashby!” Will called, pointing to his pocket watch. “I'm getting married in nine hours. I need to be there!”
Aidan turned to Will, laughing. “You'll be there, you miserable swine!"
“I also need to be awake!”
Aidan waved him off and turned back to the woman, but she was gone. He spun about, looking all around him, but she was nowhere to be seen. He was quite alone in the lamplight.
“Ashby!”
“Coming,” he shouted back, with one last glance around. How had she moved so quickly without him noticing? It was just as well, he supposed. The scene had surely been witnessed from the club, and there would be plenty of talk tomorrow. He jogged across the street back to where Will waited.
“Are you through playing the hero?” Will grinned.
Aidan chuckled. “Some hero. The damsel in distress ran away!” He studied the other side of the street for a moment, scanning it for any sign of the young woman with the arresting eyes. “You didn't happen to see where she went, did you?”
“No, I turned away to send Jack and Browning for the carriages. I'd like to get home before the rain comes. Oh, and before I forget, let me give this to you for safe keeping.” William handed Aidan a piece of paper. “It's my marriage license. I can't be trusted with it.” He grinned. “Don't forget to bring it with you tomorrow.”
Aidan chuckled. “I'll do my best to remember.” He reached out to take the license from his friend, but a sharp gust of wind whipped it from his hand. “Bloody hell!” Aidan swore. He watched as the paper flew into the street on a demonic course for the gutter. He raced into the street after it, so intent on catching it that he barely noticed the flash of lightning that struck nearby, spooking a team of horses and sending them careening down the street. They were heading straight for Aidan.
Heedless of the approaching danger, Aidan chased the license for nearly half a block before triumphantly snagging the elusive parchment. William, who had initially frozen in panic, was just catching up to him.
“I hope this isn't an omen,” he called. Aidan laughed and turned back toward the curb. It was only then that he heard the pounding of hooves. He glanced up and saw the horses heading directly for him, but it was too late.
“Ashby! Look out!”
William leapt from the curb with the intention of pulling Aidan to safety, but Leighton reached him first. She launched herself at him, slamming into his body and sending him sprawling to the ground, taking Will with him. But she couldn't regain her footing, and one of the horses crashed into her, sending her flying through the air. She landed in a motionless heap several feet away from where the men lay entangled on the ground. The team and empty carriage clattered on down the street, disappearing into the night.
“Christ, Everett, are you all right?” Aidan asked as he moved his weight off his friend and staggered to his feet. He was dizzy from his slight overindulgence at the club, and he'd smacked the side of his face on the cobblestones, but he was otherwise uninjured.
“Never better,” William replied shakily. He reached up to take Aidan's outstretched hand. “You?”
“Just surprised,” Aidan said, helping William to his feet. “Who—?”
He turned around in confusion, just realizing someone had pushed him out of the way. He glanced about him, and his heart nearly stopped as his eyes came to rest on the figure lying crumpled on the cobblestones.
“Mother in heaven,” Aidan whispered. He grabbed his friend by the shoulder. “Ev, fetch a doctor!”
William stared in stunned silence at the tangled heap in the street for a heartbeat, then took off running for the nearest help. Aidan sprinted over and knelt down beside the woman on the ground, pulling her knotted hair from her face, which was already starting to bruise. Blood was coming
from…somewhere. “Damn it all to hell!” He began searching for her injuries, cursing his lack of medical knowledge.
Men who had seen the accident through the window of the club poured out onto the street, forming a crowd around them as Aidan frantically tried to rouse her. “Miss? Miss! Can you hear me?”
The driver of the runaway team finally reached the group, gasping for air. “My lord, I'm so sorry,” he wheezed. “The storm spooked 'em an' I couldn't hold on.” He bent over and put his hands on his knees, sucking in gulps of air. “My God, my God,” he chanted between gasps, his frightened gaze taking in the lifeless woman on the cobblestones. Someone in the crowd assured him that he wouldn't be held responsible, but Aidan didn't even acknowledge him.
“Stay with me, now,” he whispered, brushing his fingertips down the young woman’s cheek. Will came rushing back, pushing through the crowd to Aidan's side. “I sent Browning for the doctor. He'll meet us at your place.” He stopped as he got his first glance at the woman's face. “Isn't that the girl you were just talking to a minute ago?”
“Yes,” Aidan snapped, continuing his efforts, and trying not to recoil in horror when he touched her hair and found his hand covered with blood. “Dear God,” he whispered, a chill shuddering through him. “Where the bloody hell is Jack with the carriage?” he shouted, struggling to his feet.
“He's coming round the corner now,” Will said. The crowd moved out of the street to make way for the oncoming carriage. William stared at his friend. “Ash, you could have been killed,” he said quietly.
“I know that,” he replied testily.
Will glanced down at the crumpled body on the cobblestones. “She saved your life.”
“I know that, too,” Aidan snapped. “I'm hoping to return the favor. Help me get her into the carriage.”
She weighed almost nothing. He was shocked to see how thin she really was, and Aidan briefly wondered how she had possessed the strength to knock his six-foot frame off his feet. They moved her as little as possible and laid her across one of the seats. Aidan wedged himself against her so she wouldn't roll off, and then they took off at full speed toward his home. The men spoke not a word to each other the entire way.
Chapter 2
The door to Lord Ashby’s house crashed open, stunning the normally unflappable butler into open-mouthed silence as Will and Aidan exploded into the foyer. Tibbs recovered quickly as Aidan flew by with a woman in his arms—and certainly not the type his lordship usually brought home. Will was right on his heels.
“Lord Ashby! What on earth—”
“Mrs. Bartlett,” Aidan bellowed, ignoring the butler and charging up the stairs. “Mrs. Bartlett!”
“Here, my lord,” she called, appearing at the top of the stairs. She caught a glimpse of filthy clothing and matted hair as Aidan rushed past her to the nearest guest room. "What on earth happened?"
“Get some linens. She’s bleeding badly.” Aidan laid her on the bed while the housekeeper yanked linens from the drawer. She bent to apply them to the girl’s wounds, but she seemed unsure of exactly where they were.
Aidan snatched the linen from her hands. “Here,” he said, putting it behind the girl’s head and applying pressure. “Fetch some warm water.”
Mrs. Bartlett went and returned swiftly, and began to clean the blood from the gash on the woman’s forearm. After a few moments of silence, she glanced at her employer.
“My lord?”
Aidan met her questioning eyes and sighed. “She saved my life by throwing herself in front of a runaway carriage.”
Mrs. Bartlett stopped what she was doing and stared at Aidan. “My dear,” she breathed. “Are you hurt?”
“I'll be fine,” he replied, perfectly aware that he was a frightful mess. He could feel blood trickling down his cheek, and if the throbbing was any indication, he’d be sporting a right fine black eye tomorrow. He glanced down at his ruined shirt and neckcloth. The coat was dark, and might be able to be saved. Richards was going to kill him, but if anyone could get the blood out of his coat, it was his valet.
This was definitely not how this night was supposed to have ended.
The sound of another carriage pulling up outside drew his attention. He turned to Will, who had been so silent that Aidan had forgotten he was there. “Ev, can you—”
“I’ll fetch him,” Will said, and fled the room. Aidan allowed himself a small smile. His friend was not fond of the sight of blood. He dipped his hands in the basin of water, dried them with a rag, and stepped into the hall to greet Dr. Lambert.
The doctor wasted no time in climbing the steps, but he put his hand on Aidan's chest when he tried to follow him into the room. “I can do this better without you, Lord Ashby,” Dr. Lambert said. Aidan began to protest, but Will pulled gently on his arm and dragged him back toward the stairs.
“Tibbs, brandy, please,” he ordered as he shoved Aidan into the study, despite his protests. “Ash, you know she is in good hands and you will just get in the way.”
“What,” Aidan began, “What on earth possessed her to do such a thing? She could have been killed!”
“I'm sure she was thinking the same thing,” Will replied.
“Shouting a warning would have been sufficient.”
“Ash, you were concentrating so hard on chasing my marriage license that you didn't even hear the horses. Hell, I didn’t even hear them! Do you really think you would have heard her?”
“Still—”
“Enough!” Will said firmly. “She saw someone in danger and just reacted. I'm sure she was planning to get out of the way as well, she just didn't make it.”
“But why would she risk her life for a total stranger?”
“Was she supposed to just let you get killed? Count your blessings that she was quicker on her feet than either one of us.”
Tibbs arrived with the brandy, which Aidan ignored. Perhaps if he hadn’t been drinking, he would have noticed the horses racing toward him and he wouldn’t be in this mess. Funny how he didn’t feel even slightly intoxicated at the moment.
He knew Will was right, but the whole situation still seemed surreal. And what was it that he had interrupted on the street? The fear and desperation in the woman’s eyes had taken Aidan aback. Those sapphire orbs held an intriguing story in them, and Aidan burned to know what it was. Now he was responsible for this woman, a complication he did not need in his well-ordered life.
Half an hour later, Dr. Lambert entered the room. Both men leapt to their feet.
“How is she?”
“No breaks in the legs, but there are some broken ribs and she may have fractured her shoulder as well. It’s hard to know for sure until she wakes up. If she wakes up.”
Aidan's brows slammed together. “If?”
“The girl suffered a pretty nasty blow to the head. It could be days or weeks before she regains consciousness. There's just no way to tell. Other than that, she's got scrapes and bruises on the outside, but I don't know what's happening on the inside. She was hit quite hard. She could be bleeding internally. If that’s the case, she may not survive the night.”
Aidan's stomach somersaulted. How could that be? This woman had saved his life, and he may never know who she is. “I see,” he said quietly. “So what you're telling me is that there is nothing to be done but sit and wait to see what happens.”
“I'm afraid so. I did leave Mrs. Bartlett with a bottle of laudanum for the girl. If she does wake up, she'll be in a good deal of pain and she'll need to be kept quiet until she starts to heal. She’s in for quite a recovery period. Mrs. Bartlett is washing and dressing her wounds now. I'll be back tomorrow to check on her.”
Aidan nodded. “Thank you for coming so quickly at such a late hour.”
“My bill will be enormous.” Dr. Lambert flashed a smile, trying to add some levity to the situation. “Lord Ashby,” he said more seriously. “You're a very fortunate man to be standing in front of me tonight.”
“I know,” Aida
n replied quietly. He shook hands with Dr. Lambert and had Tibbs show him to the door. Aidan turned to Will.
“Christ.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Days? Weeks? What am I supposed to do with her? I’m leaving for France on Thursday!”
“I’m sure Mrs. Bartlett can handle the situation.”
Aidan groaned. “This is not happening. The busiest time of year for me and I have a female house guest for an undetermined amount of time. Oh, I can’t wait to see the gossip columns tomorrow!” He slumped into a nearby chair. In a matter of seconds, his quiet life had been turned upside down. “What if she dies?” he said quietly. “I don’t even know who she is.”
“She’s not going to die, Ash. Have faith. All will be well, you’ll see.”
Aidan regarded his friend with a frown. “How can you be so bloody optimistic all the time? It must be exhausting.”
Will grinned. “One of us has to be. And I choose to believe that good is rewarded. She’ll pull through and you can thank her for saving your arse. I know I will.”
Aidan dropped his face to his hands, momentarily forgetting his injuries. He yelped the moment his hand contacted his cheek. “Damn it!” He sighed, glancing at the mantel clock. “Everett, your fiancée will have my head if you don't show up to your wedding on time tomorrow…or should I say later this morning? I think perhaps you should be on your way so you will be well rested.”
“Are you going to be all right?” Will looked doubtful.
“Of course. And I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world, if you are worried about that.”
Will smiled, loath to leave his friend. He had known Aidan long enough to know that he would heap an enormous amount of guilt upon himself because this woman was hurt due to his own foolishness. Will also knew him well enough to know that he would do everything in his power to make it up to her. He gave Aidan’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Believe, my friend. And take care of yourself tonight. I’ll show myself out.”
All That I Am: A Victorian Historical Romance (The Hesitant Husbands Series Book 1) Page 2
