Chapter Ten #3
Roland Montgomery paused, running his hand through Moss’s fur and watching Gwendolyn.
There was little in the woman before him that members of the ton would recognize, except her beauty.
She was even more beautiful now than she had ever been in a London ballroom.
Expecting a child had softened her face and given a luster to her hair.
She no longer had the petulant, spoiled expression that had marred her beauty.
Here, in the tranquility of the countryside, her long suppressed but innate kindness and amiability had grown and flourished as she had begun to discover that caring for children and giving of her time and skills were more fulfilling than being the constant center of attention.
Queen Mab backed away as Gwendolyn approached but the young woman slowed down and her voice dropped even lower.
“You’re rather bigger than an agate stone but you have such a lovely coat that you could be the fairies’ midwife.
” The horse gave a soft nicker as if she understood the reference to Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and stretched her neck then dropped her muzzle onto Gwendolyn’s held-out hand.
Gwendolyn patted her neck and took hold of the rein, still talking softly and Roland had to shift on the ground as her voice sent shivers through his body.
In spite of the pain gripping his body, he was overwhelmed by a vision of her running her hand through his hair and whispering soft words into his ear.
There was something deeply seductive about her knowledge of Shakespeare and the way she paraphrased the well-known speech to calm the nervous horse.
Gwendolyn led Queen Mab over to Roland and held the mare’s head still as he grabbed the stirrup and levered himself up.
He rested his weight on his injured foot for a moment and winced as sharp stabbing pain shot through him.
Beads of sweat broke out on his brow. Queen Mab moved slightly as she bore the fullness of his weight against her side.
The baron studied Gwendolyn, assessing her strength. She had stepped closer to him but hesitated, unsure what she could do or even if her help would be welcome.
He gritted his teeth. He knew enough about this kind of accident to realize a ligament in his ankle had been torn or at least badly damaged. “Do you think you could bear my weight if I leaned on your shoulder?”
Gwendolyn nodded. Queen Mab had calmed down and was now standing completely still, aware that her rider was in trouble. Gwendolyn took hold of the reins and stood solidly on the ground. Roland’s blanched face and twisted mouth worried her but she had nothing better to suggest.
He took a deep breath, placed one hand on her shoulder and gripped the reins very tightly. But as soon as he tried to swing his leg over the saddle, he flinched and could not hold back a groan of pain.
He could not stand upright. He shook his head. “I’m not going to be able to ride. If you can support me to that rock over there, I can sit down and send Moss to the house. I have some paper in my pocket on which I can write a note.”
Gwendolyn glared at him, her eyes flaring and her arms akimbo.
“Don’t be absurd. It wouldn’t do to leave you lying here for hours while Moss eats dinner and plays with the other dogs while your note goes unnoticed and forgotten.
He seems like a very intelligent dog but he might become muddled about some part of the plan or be sidetracked by a rabbit or cat he wants to chase.
I am perfectly capable of walking to your house and fetching someone to help you. ”
Roland’s smile showed relief and appreciation and something more that set Gwendolyn’s blood racing and her heart pounding.
To distract herself, she patted Queen Mab’s head then steadied herself as Roland placed his hand on her shoulder once again.
She liked the strong, firm clasp of his hand and the scent of rich horse leather, wind-dried linen and the faint hint of bracken that emanated from him.
There was something reassuring about him even though he was only this close to her because of his injury.
The rush of blood to his ankle was causing his foot to swell and ache even more. He was not looking forward to removing the Hessian boot when he arrived home but for now the tightness of the leather was keeping the torn ligament from completely debilitating him.
Gwendolyn walked slowly alongside him bearing the full force of his weight as he hobbled slowly.
Helping him to sit down on a low shelf of rock a little out of the sun was awkward and her swollen stomach bumped against him several times.
She paused but he didn’t seem to notice so she let him take his time to find as comfortable a position as was possible under the circumstances.
And it did seem to be an inordinately long time that he needed to keep his hand on her arm.
As soon as he was settled, she stepped back trying to keep her face impassive even though inside she was clapping and leaping.
When Roland Montgomery had placed his hand on her shoulder, a shot of energy had pulsed through her and even now the heat from his touch thrummed with pleasure in her whole body.
She had no idea why being near him affected her in a way she had never felt with any of the men who had so eagerly sought her company in the past, even the man she had allowed to bed her.
Perhaps it was just that it had been so long since she had danced with any gentleman.
But when she saw the narrow lines of pain that lined the corners of his mouth and eyes and the ginger way he rested his foot on the ground in front of him, she berated herself for being so foolish, especially over someone who needed help and who had never shown even an inkling of interest in her. And likely never would.
She took in a deep breath, embarrassed at this new proof of how little constraint she had and how innately wicked she must be to have such a physical response to a man who needed her help, not her selfish desires.
She looked at the way he had stretched out his leg, trying to rest his ankle on the other foot but grimacing in pain with each little movement.
She looked around the little crossing. A few feet away from where he was seated, a small loose boulder lay not far from the side of the path.
A few steps took her there but when she bent down she was conscious that the swell of her breasts pushed out of her bodice, almost directly in Roland’s eye line.
Tugging at the neckline would draw more attention to her breasts and besides, she needed her hands to maneuver the rock.
“What are you doing?” Montgomery asked her.
“You can rest your foot on this and it will hurt less.”
“You can’t carry that heavy rock. I will be all right.
” But his tone belied his words. He spoke faintly and his throat closed around the words.
He said nothing more. The pain was becoming more intense and he was starting to succumb to the faintness and dizziness of the injury.
He could do with a swig of brandy but if he tried to reach into his pocket, he would jolt his foot and make it worse.
He would need to wait for Gwendolyn to leave so she did not see him give in to further agony.
In the meantime, Gwendolyn made a short lever out of a strong branch she found on the ground and dislodged the rock which she slowly rolled towards him.
When she had it in the position that would provide him with the best support, she clasped her hands around the top of his calf and lifted his foot onto the boulder.
He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands but sweat was pouring off his brow and he could not prevent a groan from escaping as the blood rushed to his ankle when she moved his leg as gently as she could.
Gwendolyn looked at him, concern filling her blue eyes. “Do you have any brandy with you?”
He nodded and managed to pat his coat pocket. Gwendolyn hesitated for a moment and then reached into his deep pocket, leaning very closely over him, her breasts almost in his face and her legs brushing against his.
The slim silver flask he carried with him in case of emergencies just like this one fitted neatly into her palm. She tried not to jostle him as she removed it, but her hand pressed against his thigh. He tensed and hissed.
“I’m sorry. I’m not a very good nurse.” She opened the flask and handed it to him with a wry laugh. “In fact, I’ve discovered I’m not very good at anything.”
He let her think that his wincing had been because of his foot, but it was her proximity and the gentle touch of her hands on him that had sent his blood coursing in a different direction. His cock throbbed almost as intensely as his injured ankle.
The mouthful of brandy he had swallowed was already doing its work and he felt a little stronger. He tilted his head and studied her face. “You have been resourceful and resilient. I would not have managed here without you.”
Again, Gwendolyn gave a regretful laugh.
“That’s very gracious of you, my lord but if not for me and the dogs I can’t control, you would have kept your seat on your horse.
” She stood up straight. “I think that’s as comfortable as I can make you for the moment.
Do you think Queen Mab would let me ride her. ”
His eyes flared open and she hastened to add, “I will dismount before I reach your house so no one will see me riding full saddle. Except you.”
He nodded. “That’s not the issue. If you ride right up to the front door, Whitcombe will take action immediately and ensure you get home safely. But I’m not sure how you will manage. The stirrups are too long for you and the saddle was made for me, not a mite like you.”