This had truly been a horrible idea. Why had she ever believed she could go off riding alone? It had been nothing but foolish pride. And now, she was freezing, soaked to the skin, and clinging to a boulder for dear life.
She didn’t know whether to laugh, out of hysteria, or begin screaming. It should have been an easy matter to pull herself up, but her entire body was numb and impossible to move.
You could drown, she told herself. You could die if you cannot get out.
She filled her lungs with air and shouted out, “Help me!”
But there was only the sound of her mare grazing and trudging farther away from the water’s edge.
Rose shouted again, hoping that someone would hear her. Perhaps Calvert or even the coachman might hear her if she was loud enough. Her voice grew hoarse, and her fingers began slipping from the edge. With a tremendous lunge, she grasped the rock, tearing her fingernails in the process.
Once more, she called out, and when she heard the answering sounds of hoofbeats, she wanted to cry with relief. She hardly cared who it was, so long as they could pull her out of the lake—even if it was Calvert, come to chastise her for her folly.
But when the rider emerged from behind the trees, she saw Lord Ashton galloping hard toward the water.
“Hold on, a chara,” he told her. “Don’t let go.”
That wasn’t at all in her plans, but she could feel her fingers slipping. “Hurry, please. I can’t hold on to the rock for much longer.”
Within seconds, Lord Ashton reached down and lifted her soaked body out of the freezing lake and onto the boulder. The moment she was out, her teeth began chattering, and it felt as if knives were slicing her flesh into ribbons.
“I’m s-so c-cold.”
Immediately, Lord Ashton removed his coat and put it around her shoulders. “Here. Warm yourself while you tell me what happened.”
“I f-fell into the water. My mare moved back when I was t-trying to mount, and I lost my b-balance.” She shuddered, gripping his coat as if she could absorb his body heat from it.
“We had better get you home,” he said. “You’ll catch your death out here.”
She sent him a rueful smile. “I nearly did. I suppose I never should have taken your suggestion, trying to swim to strengthen my legs.”
“Not in a riding habit and boots.” He lifted her on top of her mare, but her boots were sagging from her feet. He tugged at the first riding boot and emptied water from it. When he glanced at her bare foot, he stopped and held it a moment. “What you did was dangerous.” His tone held traces of anger, even as his palm warmed her bare skin.
The gesture startled her, and she felt the gooseflesh rise over her calves and up her thighs. He continued holding her foot, and though she wanted to tug it free of his grasp, the heat of his skin was so very welcome. But she could not allow it. “Put my boot back on my foot, if you please.”
“What you did was foolish, and you could have drowned.”
“I wasn’t trying to swim. I thought I would put my feet in the water for a little while. It should have been safe enough.”
A flush of chagrin came over her at his quiet rebuke. But the gentle touch of his hand revealed concern that she hadn’t anticipated. He replaced her boot and then reached for the other one, emptying out the water. Again, he warmed the bottom of her foot, and warmth spiraled through her skin. “You should not have gone alone.”
She knew that, and she could not deny that the danger had been real. “You’re right. But I let my pride get in the way of common sense. I had no intention of falling in.”
“No one ever intends to drown. But it does happen.”
The touch of his hand scattered all coherent thought like droplets of water. “I—I know.” But when Lord Ashton kept his palm upon the sole of her foot, she imagined his hand moving up her calf to her bare thigh.
Good Heavens, what was the matter with her? Why was she allowing her thoughts to wander like this? Her face reddened, and she begged, “My boot. Please put my boot back on.”
He let his hand linger a little longer. “I am glad I was here to save your life.” Then he slid her boot back onto her foot.
“So am I.” She gripped the edges of his coat and turned her mare back to the trail. “And now, I should very much like to return home and get into dry clothes.” Her body was freezing, shuddering violently from the cold air.
“So we will.” He mounted his own horse and began escorting her back.
“I promise I won’t try that again.” She knew how fortunate she was, that he had come along so quickly.
“Not alone,” he amended. “But if you’re wanting to put your feet in the water, I can accompany you if you wish.”
Oh, no. Not with the way he had stolen a kiss in the past. Or the way he had taken liberties with her feet just now. “No, thank you. If I ever decide to return, which is highly unlikely, Calvert will be my escort.”
“He might fall into a fit of apoplexy if you revealed your bare ankles or legs,” he warned.
“More likely, he will complain at every moment.” At this point, she hardly cared what the footman said or did.
The clammy wool clung to her body, and rivulets of water dripped down her hair. Her teeth chattered, and she urged her mare faster along the path back to Penford. All she could think of right now was a warm fireplace and layers and layers of blankets.
“What will you tell your family about this?” Lord Ashton asked.
She shook her head. “Just that my mare lost her balance and tossed me in.” The indignity of her fall made her realize that her family would worry about her even more. They might even try to forbid her from riding at all.
But she couldn’t give up. Not now, not when she was so close to regaining her strength.
He drew his horse alongside hers. “My offer was real, a chara. If you want me to accompany you and ensure that you are safe, I will.”
Rose didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t at all a good idea to be alone with Lord Ashton. Not only because of the impropriety, but because of the way he made her feel. The Irishman had a way of tempting her, of melting away her good sense.
In the warmth of his coat, the scent of his skin lingered. It made her feel as if his arms were around her, even now.
Stop this, she warned herself. He is not the man for you.
Rose gripped the edges of his coat and tried to suppress the unwanted feelings. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
“Not in deep water, no. But shallow water would pose little harm.” He slowed the pace of his horse.
He had misunderstood her. She wasn’t speaking about exercising her legs—she was referring to being alone with him. Rose wanted him to remain a friend and nothing more. But although he had maintained his distance over the past week, she had not forgotten the stolen kiss. And she could not ignore that he was a handsome man who wanted to spend time with her.
She let her mare begin walking, though she was still cold. Right now, she needed him to leave her. “Lord Ashton, you ought to go on alone to London and leave me to this task of learning to walk again. I do thank you for wanting to help. But it’s something I must do.”
“I have my own motives, Lady Rose, and this you already know. I have no desire to travel to London and be mocked for my ignorance in society.”
She sent him a sidelong look. “You’re not completely ignorant. And you’ll remember London once you return. It’s not so very hard.”
He pulled his horse to a stop and regarded her with honesty. “Lady Rose, I’ve never been to London. Not once, in all my life. My mother took my older brother Michael, and left me behind.”
She blinked a moment. It was impossible to imagine it. Why would the countess leave her youngest son behind? It made no sense.
“Whenever our family went to London, my siblings and I traveled together,” she told him. “Always.” With a curious look, she waited for him to tell her more.
Lord Ashton’s expression turned grim.
“My mother didn’t want me there. It was easier for her to keep me in Ireland, where no one would know anything about me. I was the invisible younger son.”
Rose didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice, and sensed that she shouldn’t ask why. “Is there still a rift between the two of you?”
He turned to face her. “It’s doubtful that I will ever see her again. I’m certain she is glad of it.”
With that, he urged his mount to continue on, leaving Rose forced to follow him. She’d never imagined that the Earl of Ashton would be so isolated. Surely he had been trained to take on his older brother’s responsibilities.
“And so you asked my grandmother for help,” she said quietly. “Because you had no idea how to find an English bride.”
He shrugged. “I could find one, but marrying her is another matter. I asked to come and visit Penford because I knew I needed to learn about London society.”
His confession made sense, and she probed a little further. “Did you spend time with the Irish nobility?” She suspected he must have, but he surprised her again by shaking his head.
“Whatever I learned, I learned from my brother. My mother would have been glad if I’d never returned from Trinity.” He paused a moment, then added, “I’ve no wish to be a burden on anyone, nor do I wish to humiliate myself. Can you see why I want to help you walk again, Lady Rose? It’s my way of repaying you, if you can help me to learn what I need to know.”
She met his gaze and gave a single nod. More and more, it was all making sense. Although he was the Earl of Ashton, his servants had abandoned him and he had virtually nothing. His title meant very little, and all he possessed was a handsome face and a charming demeanor.
She recognized the challenges that lay ahead of the Irishman. People would talk about him and his family, whispering about the troubles in Ireland. They would wonder why he had been hidden away, speculating all sorts of scandalous behavior. And some would attempt to ridicule him for it.
She didn’t want that to happen. Not to him.
“I am getting stronger, but I am nowhere near walking,” she admitted. “However, since you did save my life, I owe you a favor.” She studied him closely, mentally comparing him to the gentlemen of the ton.
Most people would judge him by what they saw, at first, and that was easily remedied. The more she thought of it, the more she wondered if Lord Ashton would know how to conduct himself among the heiresses. Perhaps a rehearsal of sorts might be welcome.
“After we are home, I will change my gown and we will meet in the drawing room to discuss your plans,” she insisted. “I can help you with any questions you may have about how to find an appropriate bride.”
Lord Ashton gave a nod. “As you wish. But I cannot spend the remainder of the summer in London, Lady Rose. There are people depending on me to save Ashton. I made promises, and I intend to keep them.”
She had suspected as much, and both of them needed time they didn’t have. “Meet me within the hour,” she said. “We will start your training immediately.”
And perhaps they could find a strategy that would suit them both.
Chapter Ten
Iain entered the drawing room within the hour, as requested, but Lady Rose was not yet there. Instead, he found Beauregard waiting for him, along with his father, Sir Lester. The boy wore a wary expression, but he nodded in greeting.
“Sir Lester,” Iain said. “This is a surprise.”
The baronet pointed to one corner of the room, where Iain’s trunk stood. “We found the remainder of your belongings, Lord Ashton.”
“How?” Iain asked. And more importantly, why had the man taken it upon himself to bring them here? It seemed like a great deal of effort when they were hardly more than strangers.
“I understand that you have delayed your journey to London while you were in search of your possessions,” the baronet said. “It wasn’t difficult to make inquiries and find them. One of Beau’s friends had your waistcoat.” He frowned at his son, who kept his attention fixed upon the floor. “Then I sent my servants to inquire among the Irish. With so many seeking jobs in Yorkshire, it wasn’t hard to find someone selling a trunk of clothing.”
Even so, it didn’t explain the man’s reasons for helping him. Iain sent him a curious look, and Sir Lester continued, “Now that you have everything, I’m certain you will want to return to London to your family’s home.”
And then, the meaning became clear. Sir Lester was trying to be rid of him. Although he’d offered a friendly smile, Iain hadn’t forgotten the way the man had fawned over Lady Rose.
“Do you remember who sold my clothing to you?”
Sir Lester nodded. “His name was Pádraig, I believe. And he sold the lot to us for three pounds. I’m quite good at bargaining.”
A tightness gathered inside Iain like a fist. It shouldn’t have surprised him that his own servant would sell off his trunk of belongings for profit. It seemed that loyalty was a trait easily forgotten in the face of adversity.
“Thank you,” he said to Sir Lester. “I will be glad to pay you for your trouble.”
“Three pounds is naught to worry about,” the baronet said. “You can be on your way, and we will consider our Christian duty done.” He smiled warmly.
Iain walked over to the trunk and opened it. With a quick glance at the folded clothing, it did seem that everything he’d packed was inside. But he hardly cared about the possessions now. As he surveyed the belongings, a sense of embarrassment came over him. These clothes were meant to ensnare the affections of a rich woman, but they had belonged to his older brother. He now realized that none of them were suitable. They hardly fit him, either.
“My goodness,” Rose exclaimed, when she arrived in the drawing room, carried by Calvert. “Are those your missing clothes?”
“They are, thanks to Sir Lester.” He nodded toward the baronet, and Lady Rose greeted the man. Her hair was still damp, and her maid had gathered it into a sleek updo. A single pink rose adorned the chignon, and she wore a morning gown in the same color.
“How very thoughtful of you, Sir Lester. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been.”
“Not at all, Lady Rose. I was glad to be of service, and truly, it’s the sort of thing I like to do. Help out my fellow man and all that.” He beamed at her.
“Well, it was very gracious of you.” She murmured for Calvert to set her down on a chair. Iain didn’t miss the besotted way the baronet was staring at Lady Rose. She, however, appeared not to notice.
“Perhaps, now that your health has improved, we might go out riding one morning?” Sir Lester suggested.
Rose looked from the baronet to Iain, as if she’d not considered this. “I—I do not know, Sir Lester. My mother’s health has not been the best, as of late, and I really ought to stay with her.” She offered her apologies, and then added, “But I do thank you for the invitation.”
The baronet’s face reddened, but he mustered a smile. “Another time, then.”
Calvert placed her in a chair and then asked, “Shall I bring the trunk upstairs, my lady?”
“Not just yet,” Rose said. To the baronet, she added, “Thank you again for bringing Lord Ashton’s belongings here. It was very good of you. Perhaps another time, you might stay for tea.” She touched her wet hair and added, “I am unfortunately not very presentable at the moment, after my horse threw me off.”
At that, Sir Lester’s expression transformed into sympathy. “I do understand, Lady Rose. I hope you were not hurt.”
“Only my pride,” she reassured him, though Iain knew it was not at all true. She’d nearly drowned, and though she put on a false front that all was well, her ordeal had indeed frightened her.
“I suppose Beauregard and I will be on our way.” Sir Lester took his hat from Calvert and bowed as he left.
“Thank you again for your trouble,” Iain said.
Lady Rose echoed his thanks. Once Sir Lester and Beauregard were gone, she sank bac
k into the chair and pointed toward the trunk. “There isn’t very much here, is there? I suspect you sold off a good deal of your own clothing. There aren’t many garments inside that you could wear to a ball, are there?”
He gave no answer to that, for he did lack proper attire. But it wasn’t because he’d sold off his clothing—it was simply that he had nothing else. His mother had never bothered with fine clothes for him, and his brother’s coats and trousers didn’t fit. He had hoped to purchase a new wardrobe once he reached London, if he could somehow come up with the funds. He had no way of knowing whether Michael or their father had hidden any money within the house.
The very thought of his brother brought a wave of sadness. He missed Michael, for they had been friends as well as siblings. Many times, his brother had been angry at their mother for treating him as the lesser son.
“We’re brothers,” he’d insisted. “She has no right to behave as if you don’t belong.”
“Perhaps I’m not her son,” Iain had teased in return. “I might be a changeling.”
“I was there on the day you were born.” Michael shook his head. “And you are my brother. No matter how she treats you.”
For years, he’d wondered why his mother hated the sight of him. As a boy, he’d tried to ask the servants why Lady Ashton didn’t want him. But they had simply sent him a sympathetic look and held their silence.
“Did you hear what I said?” Rose asked, breaking him free of his reverie.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. My mind was wandering.”
“I said that I could have a tailor come and measure you for new clothing. There isn’t much time, but it can be done.”
He didn’t want to be beholden to her and politely refused. “I will take care of it myself, once I reach London.”
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