The stubborn clench of her jaw and curt shake of the head was all the answer he received, leaving him no choice but to watch the lady struggle to her feet, increment byslow…excruciating…interminable…increment.
Once on her feet, triumph shone in her eyes, as if she’d passed some sort of test.
All Dev saw was a woman who was causing herself an unnecessary deal of pain and hassle out of sheer bloody-mindedness. He’d never had any use for the bloody-minded. They got in the way of their own interests, and he couldn’t fathom that compulsion.
The rain continuing its unabated downpour, she took a sodden step.
And as Dev could’ve—should’ve—predicted, she yelped.
He reacted before he could think and grabbed her by the elbow before she could fall again and find a way to blame that on him, too. “It’s your ankle, correct?”
She gave another tight nod. “You can let go of me now.”
Gingerly, Dev did as told and stepped back carefully, as if she were a house of cards that would collapse at the faintest whisper of a breeze.
Then…nothing.
She didn’t move.
He didn’t move.
In this strange negotiation, they’d reached an impasse.
“Do you plan to stand there until—when?—night?” A vision of her hobbling through Hyde Park into the wee hours came to him. The woman was stubborn enough.
“Until my ankle feels sufficiently able to continue on.” The wince that crossed her face belied her matter-of-fact tone.
Dev’s brow dug a trench into his forehead. “Until your anklefeels sufficiently able to continue on? Do you plan to stand rooted to that patch of earth for the next few weeks, then?”
She tried for a dismissive laugh. “I can assure you?—”
“You can assure me of nothing until a physician has taken a look.”
She heaved a great, condescending sigh. He almost bought it. “Can you please leave now?”
“Not until I’ve done two things.” She would see she wasn’t the only stubborn participant in this conversation.
“Which are?” Genuine exasperation radiated off her.
“First, I offer you my sincere apology.” He meant every word. “I was riding recklessly, and I’m solely at fault for this entire situation.”
Without acknowledging his first point, she said, “And your second point?”
“You must make use of my horse.”
A single eyebrow lifted in question. “Pardon?”
“It’s obvious you won’t make it home on your two feet, so I insist you make use of my horse’s four.”
“That, I can assure you, won’t be necessary.”
He’d expected as much—and had a counterpoint ready. “If you can take three steps without yelping or wobbling, I’ll let you be on your way.”
“What gives you the right to dictate ultimatums to me?” She tried planting a fist on her waist, but gasped and let it fall to her side. That would be the injured wrist.
He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head, his message clear.
He was waiting for her to speak sense.
