Chapter 6
Six
The sun shone bright and unobstructed leaving a nice warmth against Kingston’s skin as they rode toward the pond.
A cold gust of wind carried through the trees, rustling the leaves and drawing a sharp contrast to the heat of the day.
Kingston had barely noticed the weather as he, Lord Kendal, and Lord Easton were engaged in conversation as they rode.
He narrowed his gaze as he studied the pond.
There were ladies there. Ladies that should not be anywhere near that pond.
He sighed and motioned in the direction of the pond.
“I fear your warning that the ladies at Havenwood Academy not go near the pond went unheeded.”
The marquess sighed. “I wish I could say I was surprised, but…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head.
Kingston had a feeling he knew the identity of one of the ladies.
Lady Jaclyn Thomas had to be one of them.
Easton’s wife had been with Jaclyn that first time—the instance prompting the marquess to pay a call on Havenwood and have a discussion with the headmistress.
Though back then Easton had had not been married to Jaclyn’s cohort.
“Perhaps I should pay a call on Mrs. Havenwood this time,” Kingston drawled. “A duke might have more clout at the school.”
“No,” Easton said. “I will have Charlotte visit with her friend. I think she will have more pull with the ladies at the school.” He grinned. “As she was one of them once they’re more likely to listen to her cautions.”
“And what should we do about this situation?” He gestured once again toward the pond.
“I think…”
That was, until a sudden splash pierced the stillness, followed by frantic splashing.
Kingston’s gaze snapped toward the pond, and his heart lodged somewhere in his throat as he saw her—Jaclyn—struggling in the water.
She flailed in the water, but she was fighting a losing battle.
He suspected her gown had gone heavy with water and dragged her beneath the surface.
Her boots, soaked and filling with water would only weigh her down further, making each movement a futile attempt to stay afloat.
The shock of the sight seized Kingston’s body into motion before his mind could catch up, his horse was galloping toward the water’s edge.
He dismounted quickly and tore off his coat.
“Jaclyn!” he shouted, his voice sharp, but the words barely broke through the rising panic in his chest. She gasped, her head bobbing under the surface as the water continued to pull at her, her arms flailing uselessly.
Kendal and Easton were at his side immediately.
He motioned toward the other female in the water.
“One of you take care of that.” He pulled off his boots and without a second thought, Kingston plunged into the pond, the cold water biting into his skin as he waded deeper.
He swam toward Jaclyn. Her desperate, panicked movements were growing weaker, her face barely above the waterline before she was pulled under once more.
He reached her just as her body sank again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her up, dragging her toward the bank with all the strength he could muster.
Every moment felt like an eternity, the weight of her in the water almost unbearable.
Finally, with a last heave, he managed to get her to the shore, but she was still unconscious, her lips pale, and her body slack in his arms. His heart pounded in his chest, frantic as he placed her gently on the ground.
“Easton!” Kingston called urgently, his voice hoarse.
“Help me!” Easton, having already made his way toward the pond, knelt beside him.
They exchanged no words but shared the understanding that immediate action was needed.
Kingston knelt at Jaclyn’s side, feeling for a pulse as his mind raced.
He leaned down, tilting her head back to clear her airway before gently pinching her nose and breathing into her mouth.
His heart thundered in his chest as he administered the breaths, praying she would respond.
After a few moments, her chest rose and fell, shallow at first, but at least she was breathing.
“She’s breathing. Barely,” Kingston muttered, his voice rough with relief.
He looked up at Lord Easton. “I’m taking her to Easton Abbey.
Fetch a doctor immediately. She needs proper care. ”
Easton nodded swiftly, already turning his mount to head toward the house. Kendal, however, took Kingston’s coat from the ground and with quick movements, draped it over Jaclyn’s damp, shivering body, her soaked gown clinging to her frame.
Next to Lord Kendal, Lady Melisande stood in nothing but her shift. It was nearly transparent from her swim in the pond. Kingston glanced away not really caring about the other girl. All of his concern was for Jaclyn.
“Ye should have more sense, Lady Melisande,” Lord Kendal remarked dryly, but there was no malice in his tone.
His eyes lingered on Jaclyn’s unconscious form as he settled the coat more firmly around her shoulders.
“This behavior is far too scandalous, even for someone of yer disposition.” He motioned toward Jaclyn. “Ye could be in a similar situation.”
“I’m not a clumsy fool like her,” Melisande spat out.
“Ye silly foolish lass,” Kendal said in a scathing tone.
He was no longer looking at her in a disinterested fashion.
Anger seeped through his gaze as he stared up at her.
“She could have died and we do not know the extent of the damage done tae her yet. Not until a doctor has seen tae her.” He stood and pulled off his coat and then draped it over Melisande.
“Get yer gown. I am escorting you and your other friend back to the school.” Kendal glared at her.
“I will have a word with yer headmistress about yer behavior here.” He turned toward the other girl.
“What is yer name, lass? I doona believe we have been introduced.’
“I… I…” She reached up and brushed a stray flaxen lock behind her ear. Her golden eyes were stark with terror. “I am Lady Ella Winslow,” she finally said.
“It is a pleasure to make yer acquaintance Lady Ella,” Kendal replied smoothly.
“Help me with yer friend’s garments. We will inform yer headmistress of what has happened and where yer friend will be taken to be seen by the doctor.
” With those words he started forward practically dragging Melisande along.
Lady Ella fell into step beside them. Kingston did not care what happened with the other two ladies. All of his concern was for Jaclyn.
Kingston stood holding Jaclyn carefully, keeping her close as if afraid that the world might pull her away from him. The tension in his chest had not yet released; his mind was still racing over the sight of her drowning in front of him.
“Easton,” Kingston said in an even tone, though it was laced with urgency. “We need to get her to the Abbey now. I am going to hand her over to you and mount my horse. Then I want you to lift her up to me so I can get her there faster.”
Easton gave him a curt nod. “I will be right behind you with the doctor.”
Kingston nodded, appreciating Easton’s practical approach.
He would ensure Jaclyn’s health was seen to first. “Thank you,” Kingston muttered, turning back toward his horse.
He handed Jaclyn over to the marquess and quickly mounted his horse.
Once Easton lifted her up to him and he had her settled in his arms, he flicked the reins.
His horse flew into a gallop as he raced toward the abbey.
His mind barely registered Easton’s own mounting of his horse and his departure toward the doctor.
The pounding of his heart and the weight of Jaclyn in his arms dominated his senses.
He was not prepared for the emotions stirring within him, but for the moment, he forced them down.
He would protect her. He would do whatever it took to ensure she was safe.
It did not take him long to reach the abbey.
Once there he carefully dismounted keeping Jaclyn nestled in his arms. As he crossed the threshold of Easton Abbey, the cold water from the pond still clinging to his clothes, he was aware of nothing except Jaclyn and the terrible fear that had gripped him.
Kingston's heart was pounding as he carried Jaclyn through the foyer of Easton Abbey.
He could feel the dampness of the water soaking into his breeches and the chill still clinging to his skin, but it barely registered.
The only thing that mattered was the woman in his arms. She was still unconscious, her breath shallow, and though her pulse had strengthened slightly, he was not certain of her condition.
He could not let her slip away, not when he had come so close to losing her.
He had almost lost her in that pond, and that fear still gripped him, tightening his chest as though a vise were slowly crushing him.
Kingston could not fathom why this all suddenly mattered to him. He only knew that it did. That she did…
The staff at Easton Abbey bustled around, but Kingston’s gaze remained fixed on Jaclyn.
His grip tightened protectively as he maneuvered through the hall toward the drawing room, where he knew a fire had been lit.
He needed warmth, he needed her to wake, and he needed the reassurance that she would be fine. He could not lose her—he would not.
“Sir, let me help you,” a maid exclaimed, rushing to assist him as he crossed the threshold.
He barely acknowledged her; his attention solely focused on the fragile form in his arms. He carefully laid her down on the settee by the fire, his fingers brushing her cold skin.
The sight of her, pale and drenched, was almost more than he could bear.
“A bedchamber needs to be readied,” Kingston barked. “Immediately.”