The thought had not occurred to me. Had I insulted more than Miss Elizabeth that night? Or since?
Her foot slipped, and I reached for her arm, anxious when I observed how close her bare arms and muslin were to the prickly Hawthorn hedge on her other side. “Take care!”
I saw the warning spark in her eyes, could almost see the blazing retort coming as she dodged out of my grasp, stepping away from me and directly into the open arms of the thorn bush.
CHAPTER 5
“Ouch!” Miss Elizabeth jumped away from the plant, the thorns holding fast to her gown where they did not tear through the fabric. Until then, I had not noticed how thin and worn the muslin of her garment was. It shredded like tissue paper.
I immediately came to her assistance—a gentlemanly gesture to which she reacted by retreating deeper into the thorns, showing a stubborn preference for the prickly bush over any practical help from me.
Frustrated and concerned at the angry welts with beads of blood I saw rising on her arms and hands, I looped my steed’s reins over a branch and opened my hands in front of me, speaking as softly as I would to a scared doe tangled in brambles. “Miss Elizabeth, I spoke in ignorance. It was foolish of me, and I apologize for causing offense to you. Now, will you permit me to help?”
“You did not lie?” she pressed.
Good gracious, she made this apology difficult! I could not tell her the truth without revealing too much of my changing opinion of her. Gazing upon her at that moment, her hair loose and her cheeks in high color, I found her appealing, indeed. Iwould gladly plunge my hands into the thorny bush to spare her from any further injury if only she would allow it. However, I would not expose my current vulnerability to convince her of my sincerity. “I was determined to find fault with everything and everyone that night. I spoke thoughtlessly at the height of my pique with Bingley, and I apologize for making you the target of my ill-humor.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. Apparently my apology was weighed and found lacking, because she attempted once again to free herself from the hedge without assistance. I folded my arms, demonstrating my willingness to wait for her to request aid despite my growing urge to provide the help she obviously needed. She had to be the most stubborn woman of my acquaintance.
The inevitable happened. While I could not see the tear, I heard the distinctive sound of fabric ripping.
After a moment’s pause, she scrunched her mouth, her chin high and proud. “If you will extract me from this hedge, I shall be very pleased to forget any of this ever happened.”
Finally!I could not agree more.
Stepping forward, close enough to reach behind her, close enough to smell the rosewater in her hair, I breathed deeply through my nose, letting her pleasant scent calm my treacherous racing heart. I had yet to look down.
“Is it very bad?” There was a plea in her tone I did not understand.
I looked down and stifled a groan. Now I understood. At least two dozen thorns pierced her gown below a gaping hole. I did not pretend to be an expert in ladies’ fashion, but I was not completely ignorant of the foundational garments most ladies wore to preserve their modesty. Not only had the thorns torn her gown, but they were well on their way to shredding through her unmentionables. There was precious little there to protect herfrom the stiff breeze. Unless I could find a way to remove the thorns piercing the delicate fabric, she would be exposed.
I pretended blindness and chose to speak more encouragingly than truthfully. “I shall get you out of here in a matter of minutes. You may have my coat as soon as your sleeves are freed.” How I wished I had donned my great coat!
Taking great caution to avoid touching her skin or tearing the fabric any further, I painstakingly plucked the linen off the first thorn. My gloves made my fingers clumsy, so I removed them. Warmth radiated from her in heated waves. A trickle of sweat trickled down my side whiskers.
“Can you not work any faster?” Her voice was strained.
I dared not.
“If I just—” She leaned forward before I could stop her.
Instinctively, I spun around to preserve her dignity, but there was a ripping sound, this one much louder than the last. From the corner of my eye, I saw what must have been her skirt drop into the mud puddle behind her… all of her lower garment that did not remain stuck on the thorny bush.
“Do not look!” she cried.
I was already not looking. I contorted my torso to remove my coat, wishing the narrow coattails of the riding coat were wider for her sake… and mine. They would not be enough to cover her fully, and the now-wet fabric of her morning gown would do little to help.
What kind of woman left her house on a chilly day without a coat? A stubborn, impatient one who refused my help and then would not wait for me to do an effective job!
I finally succeeded in pulling my arm from the second sleeve of my coat and held the garment behind me for Miss Elizabeth to take. At least it would cover half of her, so long as the tails were strategically held in place. Her hands brushed mine, dampand ice cold. When I thought I heard her teeth chatter, I could endure no more.
“Cover yourself,” I commanded. Keeping my head turned to the side, I dove my hands into the bush behind her, heedless of the pricks they suffered, and tugged her free of the thorns.
Still not looking, I scooped my arms under her legs and lifted her into my arms. I could not leave her on the path; she might be observed in her present state of undress. So long as I held her, I could not see her. Therefore, I saw no other option but to carry her the short distance to Longbourn.
The lady, of course, protested. “Put me down this instant!”
I hesitated to do as she wished—her request was not in the best interest for either of us—but ultimately, I obeyed.
