When she first took on Oliver’s duties, she’d given no thought to the future, to what she would do when all the responsibility was taken from her. It seemed so foolish now.
As she stood at the French doors overlooking the terrace late in the day, she put a hand on her stomach. Maybe she wouldn’t be alone. She hadn’t thought about children before Michael, never considered she’d have the time. She’d never felt drawn to be a mother, the way some women did. But now ... just the thought gave her hope, another person to love and cherish, a connection to Michael.
She could see Oliver and him riding in the distance, coming toward the stables. Their heads were turned as they talked to each other, and she found herself praying that Michael would have words of wisdom for Oliver, something that would help him on his path to maturity.
Then, suddenly, Michael pitched sideways and fell from the horse, the whole saddle sliding off with him. She cried out and flung open the door.
Talbot was beside her in an instant. “Lady Blackthorne, you cannot go outside.”
“My husband just fell,” she insisted, flinging an arm toward the park. “He might be injured.”
Talbot squinted into the distance where she pointed, then sighed. “Very well, I shall accompany you.”
They set off across the terrace, practically running down the marble steps that widened out onto the expanse of lawn. Cecilia hastened through the gravel paths of the garden, no longer able to see Michael and Oliver through the shrubbery.
When they emerged once more onto the lawn, her husband was on his feet, bracing himself with an arm around Oliver’s shoulders. The rush of relief overwhelmed Cecilia with a sting of tears.
“Michael!” she cried.
His head swung around toward her, and even with some distance between them, she could see his frown. She didn’t care. The closer they got, the more she had to tell herself not to fling her arms around him like a foolish girl.
Oh, God, am Ifalling in love with him?
She could see a bruise on his jaw as she stopped before him but no other damage.
Oliver spoke before she could. “Cecilia, you should have remained inside,” he said with exasperation. “You’re the one who’s a target.”
“Apparently not just me,” she said between gritted teeth. “Michael, I imagine it’s been a long time since you fell from a horse.”
He sighed. “Someone cut the girth almost all the way through. My weight eventually completed the deed.”
“And you’re not hurt?” she asked, her voice embarrassingly weak.
Michael took her hand. “Reinjured my leg,” he said grimly. “Just when I’d stopped using the cane, too.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said—and meant it deeply. It had been her idea to turn the focus off herself, just to prove it wasn’t about her.
He gave her a tight smile. “Let’s get you out of the open.”
Talbot took the horses back to the stables, so Oliver could help Michael back to the castle. Once Michael was settled on a sofa, his leg propped up, Oliver brought him a brandy, clinked it with his own, and downed his. Cecilia stared from one man to the other in confusion.
“Are we done for today?” her brother asked impassively.
Michael grimaced. “We are.”
Oliver glanced at Cecilia. “Then I’m off to Enfield for the evening.”
Michael watched Cecilia’s crestfallen expression as her brother left, then the way her wide eyes came back to him. He hastened to reassure her, patting the sofa beside him.
“Truly, I’m all right, Cecilia.”
She sank down beside him, then leaned against his shoulder as if in defeat. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” she whispered. “I wanted to prove this villain was after money and power, not just me.”
“And you’ve been proven brilliant,” he said, chucking her under the chin.
She touched his thigh. “Should we call the doctor?”
“I didn’t break it, only aggravated it. I know how to take a fall. It only means a few more weeks with the cane.”A few more weeks in her company,he thought, grateful.
