“All right,” she grumbled, allowing her lids to flutter closed. Had she overdone it? “What next? I hope you—”
He crushed his lips to hers with an unexpectedly possessive heat and did not ease up until she was limp and melting against him. Somehow, her arms had worked their way upward to wrap around his neck.
She might have moaned softly, too.
“How was that?” he muttered, knowing he had completely set her insides on fire and was feeling quite arrogant and smug about it.
She looked up at him and smiled. “Thatwas kiss number two. You owe me another hundred pounds. Pay up, Your Grace.”
Chapter Two
Jonas Langford, theeighth Duke of Ramsdale, stared out the window of his study, his brow furrowed in concern as he watched Ailis Temple ride her old mare back to the vicarage in what had quickly turned into a rather severe blizzard. A fierce wind was blowing and snow whipped all around her, causing her dark cloak to twist and billow around her slender body. Her horse appeared unsteady, no doubt because of the patches of ice forming along the drive as the temperature began to drop precipitously.
“Grimes, have my curricle readied. I think I had better escort Miss Temple home.”
He had barely gotten the words out before her mare skidded on one of those icy patches and sent Ailis tumbling onto the snow. “Grimes! She’s hurt.”
He raced out of the house, cursing himself for delaying her when he knew the conditions were turning bad and she needed to get home. But he had come to enjoy her company and the utter lack of deference shown for his status when voicing her opinions, which were always honest and well reasoned.
No one else ever dared speak to him so forthrightly.
There were other things he liked about the vicar’s niece, but those attributes did not bear mentioning at the moment.
“Come with me,” he barked at two footmen standing by the front door.
“Your Grace?” the senior said, momentarily confused by Jonas’s purpose when he threw open the door and a blast of frigid air and snowflakes came swirling into the house.
“Miss Temple has fallen off her horse,” he shouted, already running down the drive as fast as he dared. A chill seeped into his bones, for he had run out neglecting to don a hat, cloak, or scarf.
The footmen followed him out with all speed.
The wind howled and heavy snow blinded Jonas as he hurried to Ailis’s side. “Don’t move,” he cautioned, his heart twisting into knots when she tried to sit up and couldn’t. She sank back onto the snow and cried out in pain.
He had seen her land hard on her shoulder when taking the fall and realized by the odd position of her body that she must have dislocated it. This was the sort of injury he had learned to repair during his years of military service. Men often fell off horses in the heat of battle, and he had become quite adept at putting bones back in place. Basic medical knowledge was one of the necessities for survival if one hoped to make it through the war alive.
“Whittier, grab her belongings. Hanford, take her mare to the stable.”
“Aye, Your Grace,” each man said in turn.
Fortunately, Ailis’s mount appeared not to be injured. Hanford quickly took control of the skittish horse and used soothing words to ease her out of her fright. The young footman was good with horses and easily handled the gentle beast.
Whittier, the more seasoned footman, grabbed Ailis’s reticule and the baskets she had used to carry food to the needy. Jonas noted the baskets were empty, everything already given out, since she must have intended Langford Hall to be her last stop.
“Ailis, do not struggle,” he said, trying to calm her while she appeared to be as skittish as her mare.
“My shoulder…”
Gad, she sounded in a lot of pain.
A vapor of cold air circled around them as he released a heavy breath. “I know. I fear it is dislocated, but I’ll take care of it as soon as I have you back home. Rest your head against my chest. Don’t struggle, Ailis. You are safe. I have you.”
She said nothing as he lifted her in his arms.
Jonas did not know if she was merely resting quietly or had passed out. It did not matter, for he had to get her indoors fast.
Grimes and the Langford Hall housekeeper, Mrs. Fitch, were standing by the front door, both wringing their hands, as he strode in with Ailis in his arms. “Grimes, send one of the grooms to the vicarage to let Vicar Temple know what happened and assure him she will be in my care until this blizzard passes. In fact, send young Leo Curtis. His mother’s house is near the vicarage. Let him stay with his family until the worst of the storm is over. Send him right now while there’s still daylight left.”
“Aye, m’lord.”
