Gavin cursed under his breath and urged his horse in the direction from where the frantic animal had come. The pink and blue of a woman’s dress on the ground captured his attention. He kicked the horse’s flanks and rode faster, stopping the horse only when he reached the woman.
As he jumped off the animal, he recognized her. Priscilla lay curled on the ground, holding her ankle and rocking back and forth. Her red face was scrunched in pain. When she saw him, she released a sob.
“Cilla, what’s happened?” He knelt by her side, reaching for her foot.
“A snake spooked my mare and I was tossed to the ground.” Gingerly, she touched her ankle and flinched. “I think I sprained my ankle when I landed.”
“Put your arms around my neck and I shall lift you up. I’ll take you back to the house.” He glanced around them. “Is my grandmother here?”
“No, she’s taking a nap. She gave me permission to ride, though.”
“I’m sure she did. She was once a great horsewoman, you know.” He smiled.
The first touch of rain landed on his cheek. Inwardly, he growled. They needed to hurry before they were drenched from the storm.
Priscilla lifted her arms hesitantly as though she was afraid to touch him. Not having the patience for this, he helped her wrap her arms around his neck before gently lifting her. As he stood, he whistled for his horse. Thankfully, he’d trained the animal to come when he whistled.
Gavin realized as he placed her on the saddle, that her hair lay in disarray around her shoulders. Even her bonnet was missing. But he couldn’t worry about that right now. The bonnet wouldn’t stop her head from getting wet, anyway.
She adjusted on the saddle, holding onto the horn. He mounted behind her, but found there wasn’t enough room. Although she wouldn’t like it, there was only one thing for him to do. He lifted her once again, and she cried out, grasping his arms.
“What are you doing?” Her voice rose in panic.
“I’m setting you on my lap.”
“Whatever for?”
He tilted his head, gazing into her confused, yet lovely face. “To make the ride more comfortable. We’ll need to ride fast in order to reach home before the storm dumps on us.”
Her jaw tightened and she nodded. He wanted to laugh at her reaction, but there wasn’t time for teasing. The sooner they returned home, the better.
Gavin wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her in place as he guided the horse toward home. But within minutes, the storm wasn’t just sprinkling on them, but the water dripped from the clouds heavier and faster than before. Priscilla turned her face toward his chest, trying to keep the water from hitting her.
He was probably only fifteen minutes from the house, but certainly, they would both be drenched. Inwardly, he groaned. His grandmother would reprimand him for being careless when it came to his health – and the health of her companion. He’d never hear the end of it.
Making a quick decision, he turned the horse toward the woodsman’s cottage, which should be empty this early in the spring. There should be firewood, and with any luck, the place would be stocked with some necessities while he and Priscilla sheltered from the storm.
Minutes later, he reached the cottage and quickly dismounted. This time when he reached for her, he didn’t have to encourage her to hold onto his neck. Her arms were already outstretched and waiting for his assistance.
He hastened his step as he carried her to the cottage. Thankfully, the door was unlocked, and he was able to walk right in. Without a word, he placed her on the sofa near the hearth, and then quickly hurried back outside to tie up his horse under the lean-to on the other end of the structure.
By the time he entered the cottage again, his hair was dripping wet, as well as his coat. Thankfully though, he wasn’t drenched all the way through.
Priscilla sat near the hearth adding the kindling to start a fire. He smiled. She must have read his mind.
As he knelt beside her, he took the piece of wood out of her hands. “I can do this now.”
She scowled. “And so can I. Believe it not, Your Grace, I’m not an invalid.”
Her snappy attitude surprised him, but he figured it was due to the pain in her ankle. “I never thought that.”
“And I’ll have you know that for years my family was without servants, and every night my sister and I traded off building a fire in the hearth in our bedroom.”
Now that he didn’t know. He’d heard rumors about her poor family, but Gavin had no idea that her life had been reduced so drastically. “Forgive me, then.” He sighed and handed her the piece of wood. “If you would like to start the fire, I’ll go look for some blankets.”
Her face relaxed slightly and she nodded, taking the wood and placing it in the hearth.
He stood and brushed his hands down his trousers. They were damp, but not overly so. However, if they didn’t start a fire soon, both of them would be chilled to the bone.
It only took him about five minutes to find two blankets before he returned to the main room. He tried not to act shocked when he noticed the blazing fire in the hearth. Priscilla sat on the floor next to the fire as she struggled with removing her boot. Her pained expression let Gavin know her ankle was still hurting her.
Once again, he knelt by her side, handing her a blanket. “Would you like some help with your boot?”
Her eyes widened and her cheeks grew red. “No, I’m fine.”
He grumbled under his breath. “You’re not fine. I can see it on your face.”
Ignoring her argument, he gently lifted her foot to his lap and continued to unlace the heeled boot. She slapped at his hands, but he continued. Finally, she sighed and leaned back, allowing him to remove it. As he slid it off her foot, she grimaced and moaned slightly.
Immediately, he could see her ankle was swollen through her damp stockings. He lifted his gaze to hers. She watched him through hooded eyes.
“We should remove your wet stockings.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I think I will leave them on.”
Stubborn woman! “Will you think about this for a moment? If you leave your wet clothes on, you will catch a chill that could eventually turn into pneumonia. Then, pray, how are you going to be my grandmother’s companion if you’re deathly ill?”
He could see awareness dawn on her face as she exhaled deeply. “Fine, but you will not help.”
He shrugged and moved away as she spread the blanket around her legs. As he stepped toward the window, he was almost grateful that he didn’t help. Touching her bare leg all the way above her knee was too personal. Even being here alone with her was not proper, but they really had no other choice as the storm pelted buckets of water from the gray sky.
From the looks of it, the storm wasn’t going to let up for a while. Could he possibly carry on a civil conversation with her? But perhaps being forced to stay together in the cottage was a good thing. Now they might be able to talk about the past and clear the air between them. And if he was fortunate, she might also realize that he was a different man now.
He peeked over her shoulder at her. She’d removed both stockings and draped them over a wooden chair next to the fire. She sat on the floor with a blanket wrapped around her as she stared at the flames licking the wall of the hearth as smoke drifted upward.
Gavin moved back to her side and stopped. “Would you like me to help you to the sofa? I’m sure it’ll be more comfortable. Not only that, we should prop your foot up so that the swelling goes down.”
She glanced at him with steely blue eyes. “I don’t need your help.”
She shifted on the ground until she was on her knees, but he could see how she struggled to crawl. Women! Why were they so obstinate? He’d never met a more hard-headed woman in his life.
Clenching his jaw to stop from saying anything, he bent and lifted her in his arms. She gasped and glared at him, but he carried her to the sofa anyway, setting her down close to the edge so that she could prop her foot
up on the armrest.
He stood above her, folding his arms across his chest. “Miss Priscilla, I must confess how tired I am of your ungrateful attitude. Let me point out that if I hadn’t found you and brought you here, you would still be sitting in the middle of nowhere with a bruised ankle with no shelter from the storm.”
She rolled her eyes and moved her leg to the armrest of the sofa before adjusting the blanket on her again. “Don’t you think I’m aware of that? Do you know how frustrating that is for me?”
“Frustrating?”
“Yes.” She swung her gaze to him. “I hate feeling helpless, especially around you.”
“Why?”
“You really do not know?”
Gavin didn’t appreciate it when people looked at him as if he was daft, which was the exact way Priscilla was staring at him. Of course he knew, he’d just hoped that after all this time, she would have forgiven him – or at least forgotten about it.
Grumbling, he moved to the nearest cushioned chair and plopped down. “Would it help if I apologize for being a horse’s back-end eighteen months ago?”
She made a sound that was close to a laugh. “It might help if I knew you sincerely meant your apology. But rogues like you are never sorry for breaking a woman’s heart or ruining her reputation.”
A quick breath caught in his throat. “I... did I... ruin your reputation?”
“Of course not. We’d never done anything that could be misconstrued as any sort of an affair. But the point is, I’m sure you’ve ruined other women’s reputations. And if we hadn’t been interrupted those few times, I’m sure I would have been one of those ladies.”
He frowned, knowing she was correct. He’d tried a few times with her, but when things hadn’t worked out, he’d given up and moved on. “Then I sincerely apologize for hurting you. I hadn’t realized that you might have liked me more than I’d realized.”
“Well, I was foolish, and the incident taught me not to give away my heart so freely.”
“Will you forgive me, then?”
She shrugged as her attention dropped to the blanket again. She smoothed her hand over the material.
“I’ll consider it.”
“That’s all I ask for now.”
As he studied her, he could see the deep sadness written on her face. His gut twisted, knowing he was the one who’d done that. Why hadn’t he realized that the art of seduction might harm someone? All he’d cared about was his own pleasure.
Apparently, he needed to show her that he wasn’t the man he’d been eighteen months ago. But the question was – would she ever see him for anything other than a despicable rogue?
FOUR
Priscilla stared at the fire getting smaller and smaller by the second. They were out of wood, and yet the rain still poured from the heavens. The pain in her ankle had lessened, as well as the swelling, but she still kept it propped on the edge of the sofa. She didn’t know the exact time, but she was getting hungry. Gavin had wandered through the cottage a few times, and from the sounds of his grumbling, he hadn’t found any food.
He stood and stared out the rain-streaked window. She knew he was worried about their situation because he kept glancing at the fire as it slowly dwindled. When he glanced at it again, he sighed and turned toward her.
“How does your ankle feel?”
She shrugged. “It’s not throbbing as badly as it was earlier, but then I haven’t stepped on it, either.”
“From the looks of the storm, it’s not going to let up. We’ll need to head back to the house. We have no choice. There’s no food, and there is no more firewood.”
“Yes, I know.”
He walked to the sofa and crouched down to her level, staring into her eyes. Up this close, she’d forgotten how green his eyes were, and how she’d loved looking into them before.
“Will you be able to make the ride back with me to the house? We’ll probably be soaked clear through, but at least we’ll be home.”
Nodding, she turned on the sofa, slowly moving her foot to the floor. “Let me put my stockings and boots back on, first.”
He moved to the wooden chair by the fire and grabbed her stockings and boots, bringing them back to her.
“Would you like me to help you?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Haven’t we already had this conversation?”
He chuckled. “Yes, but I was hoping your answer would be different this time.”
“Sorry, but it’s not.”
He grinned and moved away. “I’ll go outside and make sure my horse is all right, and then I’ll come back in and get you.”
“All right.”
Once he left, she quickly pulled up her gown, which was thankfully dry now, and yanked on her stockings. Her ankle was sore when she tried to move it, but when she tried to slide her foot into her boot, she couldn’t. She cried out with pain, and let her foot rest for another few seconds before trying again. The second time wasn’t any better.
Just then the door opened, and Gavin entered, grumbling as he swiped the water off his head and face. He closed the door with more force than she thought he should have. Something must be wrong. Why would he act this way?
When he looked at her, she could read it in his expression. Indeed, something wasn’t right.
“The horse has run off.”
Groaning, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “We’ll have to walk... which means you’ll have to go without me.”
“No.” He moved to her and knelt on one knee in front of her. “I’m not going to leave you here.”
When she met his gaze, she found it odd that concern was written over his face. “So you’re going to carry me in the rain all the way back to the house?”
Gavin shrugged one shoulder. “If I have to.”
She tried not to let his gesture soften her heart. “Well, I can’t let you do that. We’ll both catch our deaths from the cold, most definitely. Besides that, if you’re as hungry as I am, I know you won’t have the strength to carry me all that way.”
Raking his fingers through his hair, he blew out a heavy breath. “There’s got to be some food in this place.” He turned his head and peered toward the door leading into the kitchen.
Priscilla’s mind scrambled to remember what it had been like those few months her family scraped for food. “Gavin,” she touched his arm until he looked at her. “Do you think there is a garden close by? I know it’s early spring, but I wonder if there are any vegetables that survived the winter.”
His eyes widened. “I’ll definitely go out back and look. I remember there had been a garden at one time.” He took her hand and gently rubbed her fingers. “Pray that I find something soon.”
“I shall.”
Once he was gone from her side again, a strange coolness seeped through her body. She’d felt warm momentarily while he was holding her hand, but now... Shivering, she wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
Slowly, she rose to her feet, trying to add pressure to her sore ankle. She grimaced through the pain as she hobbled into the kitchen. Two large cooking stoves took up a lot of the small space in this room, and a wall covered with hanging pots and pans decorated the far side. She hobbled along the counters, peeking in every drawer and every space that might have stored some food, but she found nothing. She opened the two stoves, and as luck would have it, there were a few half-burned logs in there. At least they’d stay warm for a little while longer.
She carefully pulled out the logs, carried them back into the front room, and knelt in front of the hearth. The flames grew once the logs were inside, but she knew it wouldn’t take long before the fire dwindled again.
Brushing her charcoaled hands on her dress, she struggled to stand. She moved slowly back to the sofa to prop her foot up again. Another chill rushed through her and she tightened the blanket around her again.
Gavin was still outside, and she said a silent prayer that he would find something for them to eat. Of course, he�
�d be wet and muddy...
Priscilla sighed. He would be the one who’d have to take off his wet clothes so as not to catch a chill. Heavens, this was not good at all. Because of all the time they’d spent together already – alone – would her reputation be ruined? Would his grandmother understand and forgive her?
Soon, she heard his heavy boots on the porch and it sounded like he was kicking them against the wall. Perhaps he had found something in the muddy garden, after all.
When he entered, he was drenched from head to toe, and covered in mud from his knees down. And yet, in his mud-coated hand he held some carrots and two potatoes.
“You found something,” she cheered.
“Not only that, but I discovered a meat room around back, and inside was some jerky.” He motioned toward his coat pocket.
Not thinking about her ankle, she rose and hobbled to his side, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the jerky. She quickly took a bite, and then closed her eyes and sighed with satisfaction.
“Let me go back outside and wash my hands clean – along with the vegetables.”
She nodded and took another bite. It didn’t take him long before he came back. He moved to the fire. As he ate, he shivered. Her heart wrenched. Indeed, he’d catch pneumonia after this was over. And it was all her fault.
She limped to him and handed him the extra blanket. “Your Grace, it’s now your turn to get out of those wet clothes. Hopefully, we’ll have enough fire to dry your clothes before the flames disappear.”
“Did you find more wood?”
“In the cooking stoves.”
“Well, that’s something.” He nibbled on a carrot.
“But I was thinking, if it comes down to it, we could probably break up that chair,” she motioned to the wooden chair still next to the hearth, “and use that for firewood.”
His face brightened as he looked at the chair. “You’re brilliant, Cilla.” He smiled at her.
Loving a Rogue (How to Love Book 3) Page 3
