The Bedding Proposal Part 11

"Yes, and likely to be again if we don't leave." He cast a worried glance over his shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "Never mind that now. Let's get on your horse and ride for Holland House."

Favoring his wounded left arm, which was obviously too painful to use, he went around to pick up the reins of her mare using his right. The animal backed up, turning suddenly fractious at the scent of fresh blood. He calmed her as best as he could, then gestured to Thalia. "You mount first, then I'll come up behind."

"All right, but we should bind your arm first so you don't lose any more blood. I have your clothes with me as well. You can get dressed too."

"We'll worry about both of those things later. For now, get on the horse."

She stiffened and was opening her mouth to disagree when a huge man emerged from the trees. A frightful scowl darkened the stranger's face, one paw-sized hand clenched around a rifle. A lad of ten or eleven trotted at his heels. Without hesitating, he and the boy made straight for them.

"Accosting women now, are ye, ye blackguard?" the big man called. "Step away from her or it'll go even worse for ye than it already has."

Thalia stared in horror.

"Ye're safe, ma'am," the man said rea.s.suringly. "He won't hurt ye."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Lord Leopold do as instructed, clearly trying to separate himself from her so that she would be out of the line of fire. Without a moment's hesitation, he'd chosen to place himself in further danger to protect her.

The selfless act warmed her down to her marrow, something unexpected s.h.i.+fting in the vicinity of her heart. Rather than let him continue to move away, she stepped sideways so that she was once again standing between him and the gun.

"Hurt me?" she told the large man derisively. "Do not be ridiculous. Lord Leopold would never hurt me." And curiously, in that moment, she knew it was true. For all his rakish ways, she realized that Lord Leopold was the sort of man who would never resort to violence against a woman, or any creature weaker than himself.

"It is you, sir, who are cause for concern," she continued, her tone blistering. "Put that gun down immediately."

The man stopped abruptly, the boy at his side.

"Thalia, don't," Lord Leo said quietly. "You'll just antagonize him. Step away and let me handle this."

But as before, she ignored him, her attention fixed on the other man. "Are you the one who shot Lord Leopold?" she demanded.

"Wot?" Thick eyebrows rose skyward.

"You heard me? Did you shoot and injure this gentleman?"

The large man bristled. "He's no gentleman-he's a thief. He were tryin' ter steal the clothes right out of me own yard."

"Well, of course, he was, given that he had lost his garments and had need of new ones. And I am sure he was not stealing them as you claim, but rather borrowing them until such time as he could repay you for their use."

"Exactly what I tried to explain, but you refused to listen," Lord Leopold said to the farmer. "As you can see, the lady has no difficulty in her understanding of the situation."

The big man's eyebrows bunched with renewed anger. "'Ow were I ter know you was some high-n.o.b lord when ye ain't wearin' so much as a kerchief around yer nethers? 'Sides, ye're the one what ran off when I told ye I was callin' fer the constable."

"No doubt because you were holding that gun on him," Thalia stated, interceding before the men could come to further blows, verbal and otherwise. "You still are holding it by the way. Did I, or did I not, tell you to put that weapon down? Do it now."

The farmer flushed, ruddy anger darkening his skin. But to the surprise of them all, he did as she commanded, laying the rifle carefully into the gra.s.s.

"Thank you," she said. "Lord Holland will be informed of everything that has occurred here. As magistrate, it will be up to him to decide what is to be done, though I rather doubt he will be pleased to hear that you tried to kill one of his houseguests."

The color drained out of the huge man's face. "I didn't try ter kill 'im. Just winged him. He's all right, ain't he?"

"He's gunshot and bleeding, so he most certainly is not all right. If you are done threatening his lords.h.i.+p and me, I should like to tend to his wound and get him back to Holland House so that he can receive proper medical attention. Young man," she said turning her attention to the boy, "have you a blanket in your house?"

"Aye," the boy said.

"Then pray run and fetch it while I see to Lord Leopold."

After the boy ran off, the farmer turned to follow.

"Not you," she said. "Once I've done binding his lords.h.i.+p's wound, you are going to a.s.sist him up onto my horse."

"That's not necessary, Lady Thalia," Lord Leopold said quietly. "I can see to myself."

But one look at his wan complexion told her he was not nearly as steady and robust as he claimed. "Sit down, Lord Leopold, before you pa.s.s out."

"I never realized before quite how bossy you are."

"I am sure there are many things you have not realized about me. Now please, sit down."

"Hand my trousers to me first. Then I'll gladly oblige."

Oh. He was right. In the midst of all the turmoil, she'd nearly forgotten that he was unclothed. He was s.h.i.+vering as well, she saw, the setting sun and falling temperature only adding to his discomfort.

Hurrying to the mare, she pulled the bundle of clothes off the saddle. Her hands trembled, suppressed tension coming to the fore now that the danger was over. But she could collapse in a quivering heap later, once she was alone. Right now, Lord Leopold had need of her.

She returned to his side. "Here." She shook the bundle free, then held out the trousers.

"Are those his clothes?" the farmer asked.

"Never you mind," she said over her shoulder before turning back to Lord Leopold. "Can you manage?"

"Of course."

But he couldn't, his wounded arm too stiff and painful to be of much use. In the end she knelt down and helped him into them-he fastened the b.u.t.tons on his own, however, using only one hand.

Next she retrieved his cravat. "This will have to serve as a binding for now," she told him as she tied the soft linen tightly above the wound to slow the bleeding. Once done, she wound the rest around his arm as best she could.

The boy suddenly appeared with the blanket, a woman with him.

"What has happened?" she said, a toddler set at her hip. "Is this the man who was in our yard? Thomas said he's Lord something or other and one of Lord Holland's guests. Oh, Joseph, what 'ave ye done?"

"Hush, Mary," the big man said. "Let's get 'em on their way, then we'll see wot's wot."

"But-"

"I says not now."

Mary fell silent.

The rest of Lord Leopold's clothes were impossible to put on, since his s.h.i.+rtsleeves were too narrow to fit over the makes.h.i.+ft bandage. Thalia draped the blanket over his shoulders instead, then urged him toward her mare.

Lord Leopold was looking grayer by the moment. Circles of pain rimmed his eyes and his balance was not entirely steady. Nonetheless he insisted on trying to mount her horse on his own once she was settled. But getting seated behind her as he hoped to be proved impossible, and in the end he was forced to rely on the aid of the man who'd put him in this predicament to begin with.

She made no complaint when he wrapped his good arm around her waist. "Hold tight, Lord Leopold."

He did, pressing his chest to her back, his body far too cold for her liking.

It was with immense relief that they set off, Thalia urging the horse forward at a gentle gait.

Neither of them spoke for a time.

"Thank you," Lord Leopold said in a low voice.

"For what?" she murmured.

"For coming back. You were magnificent, the way you faced down that lumbering brute. Stupid, but magnificent."

"I am not sure if that's a compliment or an insult, but I'll take it regardless." She paused. "I am sorry."

"For what?" His words were slightly slurred, his weight resting more and more heavily against her.

"For leaving you in the first place back at the pond. It was wrong and I should not have done so."

"Got you in my arms, didn't it?" He tucked his chin on her shoulder, his cheek against her own. "One arm anyway."

A minute later, she felt him sway.

"Don't you fall off."

"Won't." He tightened his hold on her waist, then sagged some more. "Just going to rest."

"We're nearly there." At least she hoped they were, since early evening darkness had fallen. But the horse seemed to know her way, so Thalia wasn't concerned about reaching their destination. It was Lord Leopold who worried her.

"My lord?"

He did not answer.

"Leopold?"

Had he lost consciousness?

But shortly afterward, as they rode out of a grove of trees, she saw the lights of Holland House. She released a pent-up breath, grateful that help would soon be at hand.

Chapter 11.

Thalia couldn't sleep; Lord Leopold was on her mind.

Try as she might, she couldn't shake the memory of his ashen face and the expression of pain he'd worn when he'd been helped off her horse and led into the house and upstairs.

The pair of them turning up together with Lord Leopold injured and weak from blood loss had sent a flurry of shock through the household. It had also sent the guests into full gossip mode just in time for them to convene in the drawing room before dinner.

While the physician had been sent for, she had told Lord and Lady Holland what she knew about the shooting, careful to leave out any mention of having been at the swimming pond and her role in Lord Leopold's missing clothes. She'd concocted a story about going out for a ride and discovering his riderless horse-with his clothes tied in a bundle to the saddle-and how she'd then ridden on only to discover him injured. She wasn't sure if the Hollands entirely believed her version of events, but if not, they were too polite to say.

As for Lord Leopold, he'd been taken up to bed, where hopefully they hadn't asked him more than a few cursory questions before leaving him to the ministrations of the doctor.

What had Lord Leopold told them? She supposed it would serve her right if he'd given an unvarnished accounting of the truth. Still, she rather hoped he had twisted his story enough to keep matters private so that the truth remained solely between him and her.

How is he? she wondered.

She'd taken a bath and eaten dinner on a tray in her room, unable to face the other guests. She'd received no further word about Lord Leopold's condition; not even her maid knew how he was faring.

Telling herself it was really none of her concern, she had gone to bed. But after a great deal of tossing and turning, she finally gave up.

She lit a candle and picked up her book, hoping a bit of light reading would help her drift off. But after five minutes, she tossed it aside and reached for her robe.

Fastening the tie at her waist, she went to the door.

Leo dozed against the warm, clean sheets, the ache in his arm keeping him from sinking into a peaceful slumber.

He'd refused the dose of laudanum the doctor had pressed on him; he hated the stuff and had done so ever since he'd fallen-or rather jumped on a dare from Lawrence-from a second-story window at Braebourne as a boy. He'd been trying to land in a nearby tree at the time and had actually succeeded until the limb he was standing on snapped and sent him plummeting to the ground. He'd dislocated his shoulder. Even now, he remembered the pain and how violently sick the laudanum had made him. He'd vowed never to take it again; the pain was far preferable.

He s.h.i.+fted, catching sight of the red stain beginning to form on the white cloth bandage wrapped neatly around his upper arm. His wound was seeping, exactly as the doctor told him it would.

There had been no bullet to dislodge, the shot a clean one that had gone straight through. Another few millimeters and the bullet would have hit bone, putting him at risk of losing his arm-or at least the use of it. As it was, the doctor had doused the wound with liberal amounts of fresh water, then brandy that had burned like fire. Now it was simply a matter of putting up with the discomfort until it healed.

The doctor had also recommended bleeding him, but Leo decided he'd already lost enough blood for one day and refused the treatment. He'd never held with the idea of letting blood to remove ill humors; he'd known far too many people weakened by the procedure, fatally so in the case of his late father.

Leo was drifting back into another shallow doze when the door latch gave a quiet snick. After the door closed again, a figure moved toward him, illuminated by the low candlelight. He peered through his lashes and saw a woman, but not just any woman. It was Thalia.

He closed his eyes again, his pulse gaining speed. He worked to regulate his breathing, drawing in her light floral scent. She stopped when she reached his bedside. Even with his eyes shut, he could sense her studying him.

By rights, he ought to be angry with her given everything that had happened. She'd tricked and manipulated him, stolen his clothes and put him in a situation that had resulted in his being shot.

But she'd also returned to find him, fearlessly faced down an armed brute of a man in his defense, then led him to safety. And she'd apologized.

Considering that, how could he be cross? If anything, he felt grat.i.tude and a grudging admiration. She was what was known in the vernacular as a formidable woman. Brave, resourceful and clever. And he liked her all the more for it.

She'd wanted to give him a disgust of her. But her gambit had failed, since he was more determined than ever to have her in his bed. She'd told him she didn't want him as a lover, but if that were true, then why was she here in his room-alone, at night? And in her dressing gown no less.