Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
P art of her longed for him to lower his head to her and press his lips to hers. Then he was looking away and walking towards the trees. She let her head fall to rest against his chest.
His heartbeat was strong and rhythmic, making her feel safe. It was also rapid and she wondered if it was the exertion of rowing or their proximity. It struck her as a trifle arrogant to assume that she would be making his heart beat faster. Nevertheless, it was an attractive thought.
As they breached the treeline, a sound reached her which made her raise her head. It was a sound she knew well and which made her heart stop. She could no more ignore it than she could have ignored a lion stepping onto the path in front of them.
“Stop!” she cried.
The sound was of an animal in distress. It was a soft plaintive squeak. A desperate sound of a creature running out of strength and almost overcome by fear. Horatio looked confused.
“Please, put me down,” Juliet breathed, trying to listen for the source of the sound.
“I do not think that is wise…” Horatio began.
“It is important. Put me down, and please be silent.”
She knew that she was being rude, that she was commanding a Duke where she had no right or authority. But the thought of an animal in pain, an animal that she may be able to aid, overrode all other considerations. Including her own health.
Horatio obeyed, watching her carefully and with a ghost of a smile. Juliet closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds of the woodland around her. She heard Horatio draw breath and clicked her fingers sharply at him, drowning him out. Then she heard it again.
Spinning in the direction of the sound, she hunted for a moment among the dense undergrowth. She saw the run almost immediately, a path made by something small. A rabbit, weasel, or ferret. Drifting carefully through the grass and ferns, she followed it, heedless of her stockinged feet or state of undress. After a few more yards, she saw it. A rabbit caught in a snare. She turned to glare at Horatio.
“Are you partial to rabbit?” she accused.
“No,” Horatio defended, hands in the air, “as a matter of fact, I have no fondness for meat at all, except fish.”
“Then your gamekeeper did not set this snare to fill your table?”
“I have no gamekeeper,” he replied. “I don’t so much manage my estates as allow them to manage themselves. I allow no poaching on my land but let my tenants keep livestock for their own tables. This is not my doing.”
Juliet had dropped to her knees and was carefully reaching for the rabbit, knowing that its terror could easily stop its heart. She looked back over her shoulder at him.
“Then someone is poaching on your land.”
“It seems so. They will not be allowed to continue. Should I put this poor creature out of its misery?”
“No!” Juliet cried. “The snare has cut its hindquarters but I don't think the wound is too deep. It can be nursed back to health.”
She carefully drew the animal to her, working to loosen the snare while cradling its trembling body. In its fear, it scratched her, but she did not react and it released her after a brief moment. Blood flowed from the cut on her finger and she pressed it against her shift to help it clot.
“We will need clean linen to dress the wound and some stiff card that we can fashion into a collar. That will stop him from licking the wound, which will only serve to make it worse,” Juliet ordered, standing with arms protectively around her tiny burden.
Now that she had a patient to care for, she felt confident and unwilling to be balked. She met Horatio’s eyes with a firm, resolved look. If he decided to challenge her, she would stand her ground. He could simply beat her down by the power of his rank but she would not give up without a fight, not now that there was a vulnerable creature in her charge.
But Horatio was smiling boyishly. It transformed his face. No longer did he seem like a stern, eastern warrior of ancient lineage and savage manners. Now he seemed full of joy and happiness, his eyes lit with humor. The harsh angles and lines of his face seemed to soften and Juliet had to resist the urge to return that smile.
“We are perhaps ten minutes’ walk from the castle. Are you up to it?” he asked.
“Yes! Along the way, there are a number of herbs I should like to gather from which I can make a poultice.”
“If we do not find them on the path, I will have a member of my kitchen staff go out and forage for them,” he promised. He swept a bow to her, elegant and respectful, then spun. “Follow me. You will both soon be safe and warm.”
She followed, murmuring soothingly to the trembling rabbit. It was quietening, realizing that there was no immediate danger perhaps. Or succumbing to the shock of pain caused by its wound. Now that its instinct to run had subdued, it would most probably slip into a deep sleep. When it awoke, it would be on the mend, Juliet was sure.
Along the way, she directed Horatio to gather herbs wherever she saw them, until he clutched two substantial handfuls. When they emerged from the trees, it was before a stone bridge with carved handrails and statues at either end. Beyond it was the castle. Before the castle was an expanse of swaying wildflowers and grass gone to seed.
Voices carried across the bridge. Two women. Before Juliet and Horatio had crossed, the sources of those voices appeared.
Aunt Margaret and Frances were promenading down an overgrown path that circumnavigated the castle. They were stepping out from behind a round, corner tower when Frances saw Juliet and whispered to her mother. Aunt Margaret’s head whipped around and she stood with her fists on her hips. But only for a moment.
Upon the sight of Horatio bare-chested and Juliet in her shift, Aunt Margaret’s face paled and she whirled around. Frances did not, drinking in the sight of Horatio with a small smile playing on her lips. Juliet met her cousin’s eyes a moment later and saw a flinty look there. Frances liked what she saw in Horatio but did not like to see Juliet undressed in his company. The conclusion was obvious and Frances practically seethed with jealousy.
“Frances, avert your eyes this instant!” Aunt Margaret shrieked.
“Yes, mama,” Frances said in a humble voice that bore no connection to the look of chagrin on her face.
“Explain yourself, sir!” Aunt Margaret demanded without looking.
“I went for a swim. It is my land and my lake. If you do not like it, I suggest you take up residence elsewhere.”
“And why is my niece in a state of undress!”
“Is it not obvious? She went for a swim also,” Horatio replied with a grin. “Are you perhaps afraid that I intend to take advantage of your niece and then discard her? Are you forgetting my obligation to marry her?”
He stopped just behind Aunt Margaret, who peeked over her shoulder and then covered her eyes. Horatio laughed. Juliet did not care what her Aunt thought of her, or Frances. She wanted only to begin the process of nursing the rabbit back to health. She kept walking, not looking at either woman. Horatio fell into step alongside, steering her towards a small door at the head of a set of narrow steps cut into the wall.
“That will take us directly to the guest floor where you are currently residing. I will have linen and card sent for.”
“And clean, boiled water,” Juliet reminded, “and a mortar and pestle.”
“As you command, my lady,” Horatio replied, courteously.
“Juliet. I will not be ignored! This behavior is… is…. unconscionable ! Scandalous!” Aunt Margaret shrilled.
Juliet did in fact ignore her as she ascended the steps of well-worn sandstone. At the top, Horatio held the door open for her. Once inside, she recognized the hallway from which the guest suites were located. Hurrying to the door of her own room, she took the rabbit to the bedchamber.
It was slumbering, so she laid it on the bed and took a drawer out of a nearby dresser. Upending it to rid it of the clothes inside, she then used some of the garments as bedding and carefully lifted the rabbit into the nest thus created. As she worked, she glanced up to find Horatio watching her from the doorway. A small smile played on his face. His head was tilted as though in puzzlement.
“Have you sent for the things I need?” Juliet asked, not wishing to be rude but caring only for the wellbeing of her patient.
In answer, Horatio reached for a bellpull beside the door and tugged it sharply.
“Is this sort of thing normal for you? I cannot imagine that old Dragon tolerating it at Wetherby.”
“She does not. Would not. I found an old cottage beyond the Wetherby estate and I use that to care for the waifs and strays that I come across. Poachers use cruel traps.”
“Do the local poachers know who it is that is sabotaging their business?” Horatio chuckled gently.
Juliet shrugged. “One of them does. He threatened me, but…”
“You did not listen,” Horatio finished.
“I won’t stand by,” Juliet replied firmly.
She turned back to the rabbit, stroking its fur softly. Without thinking, she reached for a corner of the bedclothes to dab at the blood on its fur. When she realized what she was doing, she colored.
“Oh my. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure this will come out.”
Horatio laughed. “It makes no difference to me. I will not be the one cleaning it. My housekeeper may think differently. And she is too frightening a prospect for me to stand up to her, I’m afraid.”
The very idea was nonsensical. Juliet laughed easily at the notion of Horatio cowering before the temper of a servant. He grinned in return. Their eyes met and their laughter faded. Something passed between them. It occurred to Juliet that Horatio now knew more about her than her family did.
They did not know of her run-in with Curt the Pint , the local poacher. Or of her desire to care for injured animals and birds. Nigel knew as much about her, but no one else. It gave her a feeling of connection between them, despite how their relationship had started.
Horatio looked away first, as there came a knock at the door. Juliet returned to her patient, feeling a sense of regret that the moment had passed. Could this marriage work? Despite its origins, maybe it could become something akin to love? At the very least, friendship . Love was a romantic idea, but not for her. Not that she didn’t want it. It was more that she didn’t think it would happen. Her ailment would surely drive away any man who learned about it. And if she did not tell of it, when she eventually succumbed to it, she would leave behind a widower. That was a prospect that she could not face.
She heard voices in the next room as Horatio gave his instructions. Then the door closing. Horatio came back in.
“Linen, hot water, mortar, and pestle will be brought to the fine lady directly. I shall be returning to my chambers to dress more decently and allow you to do the same. The servants already know that I am more than half savage. I do not want them forming the same view of you.”
“Do you care?” Juliet asked.
The question came out more directly than she intended. Horatio gave her a long, steady look. She blushed but did not qualify her question, merely waited.
“I do, it seems.”