Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
B enjamin traipsed through the snow, easily following the footprints left by the rest of their party not long ago.
Not an hour previous, when Mr. Miles Thrup had invited Benjamin to join them, he’d turned the man down. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy ice skating, but he needed some time and space away from a certain woman—one with strong opinions and no fear whatsoever.
However, as soon as the house quieted, Benjamin was left to battle his thoughts, uninterrupted. Haverford was a pleasant enough fellow, but he was hardly a great conversationalist. Certainly not entertaining enough to keep Benjamin’s mind off the one woman he was trying to avoid.
Then again, hadn’t Lord Vaughn hired Benjamin specifically to watch over his sister? He very well couldn’t do that from his bedchamber while she was out of doors.
For that reason—and that reason alone—he, at length, retrieved his great coat, hat, and gloves and was now heading out toward the pond.
It had nothing to do with the way holding her last night had taken up more of his thoughts than it had any right to. Nothing to do with how whenever he closed his eyes, he could smell her perfume or remember the touch of her so near him.
No. It was only because he was responsible to see she remained safe no matter if she was sewing beads or skating on a frozen pond.
And if there was ever a lady who could turn any situation on its head, it was Margaret.
Lady Margaret. He shook his head at himself.
He couldn’t start thinking of her in so informal a manner, not if he wished to keep his head clear.
A scream reached his ears.
Benjamin froze and listened.
Was it the sound of joy, or something worse?
Another scream.
No, that was certainly a cry of terror.
Benjamin broke into a run. The footprints of earlier were easy to follow, and he had no trouble finding his way to the pond.
Running up, he found a scene of panic and confusion. Lady Emily was closest to him, her hands up near her mouth as she screamed again. But as her back was turned toward him, she didn’t see him. Instead, her gaze was focused on the far side of the pond.
The three gentlemen, Ingram, and both the Misters Thrup, were skating quickly toward the far side. Past them, across the pond and near the bank, sat Miss Yates. She was pointing at something, and even from where he stood Benjamin could tell she was shaking.
He followed the angle of her outstretched hand and finger.
A hole punctured the ice, the dark waters below lapping with deceptive calm against the hard edges.
In the same moment he saw the hole, Benjamin realized there was something he didn’t see—Margaret.
Benjamin took off, running as fast as he could along the pond’s edge. He wished he could charge straight toward the hole, but there was no chance he would be able to run as quickly on ice as he could on the hard ground.
Mr. Miles Thrup was the fastest of them all, carefully sliding across on his stomach to reach the hole.
Benjamin reached the spot along the pond’s bank closest to the hole and started across the ice, tossing off his great coat as he moved.
“Are you all right?” he asked Miss Yates as he passed her.
“She’s in there,” Miss Yates cried, her whole frame shaking and muddling her words. “She hasn’t come up.”
Margaret hadn’t come up at all? How long since she’d fallen through the ice? Had she hit her head on the way down, or was it simply the layers upon layers of skirt fabric keeping her from surfacing?
Same as Miles, he didn’t go far before carefully lowering himself onto his stomach. He couldn’t risk breaking through the ice himself.
Benjamin neared the hole and found Miles with his arm in the water nearly up to his shoulder, desperately searching for Margaret.
“I can’t feel her,” Miles said, “I can’t feel her anywhere.”
The pond didn’t have a current, such as a river would. So, Margaret probably hadn’t floated too far from the hole. Still, she must have sunk too far down to be reached.
Reaching the hole, Benjamin placed both hands against the edge.
“Rockwell,” Miles said, “What do you think—”
But he didn’t pause to hear what the young man was going to say. Benjamin pulled himself over the edge and plunged into the freezing water.
The cold bit and burned against his skin. It was as though he was on fire. Memories of running into the fiery building pelted his mind.
His lungs seized, and he had to fight the desperate panic in his chest, the primal desire to breathe.
The pain was so overwhelming, he could think of nothing else, feel nothing else.
But then the discipline borne of years of being a soldier kicked in. Habits drilled into him and natural reactions trained for situations such as this forced his arms and legs to move, shoving away the pain and instead bringing to the forefront exactly what needed to happen.
Margaret.
He would save Margaret.
Bending forward, he chose to first swim straight down. He was only in a jacket and breeches, and even that much fabric weighed him down dramatically. He couldn’t imagine trying to kick against the several layers of skirts Margaret was wearing.
The water around him started out brown and murky, and it only grew darker as he swam down. His fingertips brushed the bottom of the pond. Not too deep, then—that was a blessing indeed.
Reaching around him, he frantically searched with his hands and feet.
His back leg bumped into something. His extremities were nearly numb, so he couldn’t tell much about what he’d hit other than it was large enough to be a person, and it had wobbled slightly at the impact.
He twisted around and wrapped both arms around it.
The minute he pulled her close, he knew he had Margaret. The feel of her in his arms, even numb as they were at that moment, was too familiar for him to be mistaken.
Gathering his legs beneath himself, he pushed off as hard as possible. With a few kicks after that, both his and Margaret’s heads broke through the surface.
Benjamin breathed in deeply and immediately started to cough. But he was able to keep his head and Margaret’s above water.
All three gentlemen were there, on their stomachs, close at hand. They reached for Margaret and hauled her out, retreating away from the hole.
Benjamin kicked until his frame was nearly parallel to the hole and then carefully slid himself back up and over the ice. The whole time, though, his gaze never left Margaret.
After being pulled back several paces, he saw her brow crease, and then she started coughing as well. After a minute, her eyes fluttered open before shutting tight once again.
At least she was conscious. But she was no doubt still as frozen as he was.
As cold as the water had been, it was no better being out.
Ingram and Oliver had both pulled their great coats off and had them wrapped around Margaret.
Feeling he was far enough away from the thin ice, Benjamin stood and hurried over to where Margaret was huddled on the bank, shivering.
Miles caught up with Benjamin. “I’m ever so glad you decided to come out after all.” His entire right side was soaking, and that alone was enough to make him shiver as well.
It was too cold to be outside and soaked. Margaret was no longer drowning in pond water, but she was still in danger.
“Ingram,” he ordered, “send for a doctor immediately. Oliver and Miles, see that the other ladies are safely returned to the house and warm tea is served to them both.”
With hardly a pause in his step, Benjamin reached Margaret, scooped her up in his arms, and then took off in a run.
He needed to get her indoors and warmed up.
Could they ever become something other than protector and charge? He had no idea. He wasn’t even sure he could give his heart the time and space to find out. But one thing he did know.
He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.