“Your Grace! Your Grace!” Lady Ridlington’s panicked voice was muffled by the water. As he stood in the water, finding it waist deep and turning to her, he found she had jumped down off the horse and ran back to the edge of the river, her face contorted in fear.
He quickly ascertained he was not injured at all and then looked between their two states.
“Well, I think you won the contest,” he pointed out, bursting into laughter before he could finish the sentence.
A moment later, Lady Ridlington laughed too, covering her mouth in clear relief that he wasn’t hurt. This time, her laughter was completely unbidden. She didn’t try to hide it or curb it as she had done in the past, she thoroughly enjoyed it. It made that jolt in his chest even stronger than before.
“Look at me,” he said, trying to shake off some of the water. “Soaked to the bone.” He ruffled his hair, trying to get rid of some of the excess. “I blame you,” he said with humor.
“Me? I didn’t do anything,” she put upon a look of innocence.
“Perhaps payback is in order,” he teased her, slowly moving to the edge of the river. She began to back away from it.
“What do you intend to do?” she asked.
In answer, he shook his hands in her direction, trying to get her wet. She squealed in laughter and hurried away from the water, using Cantante as a shield who promptly snorted in his direction.
“Look at him protecting you from a little water. He loves you more than he loves me already,” Francis gestured to Cantante.
“He has good taste,” Lady Ridlington teased, peering over the top of the saddle. Her words brought even more laughter from Francis.
“That he does,” he said, hoping she hadn’t heard his words. “We best get back to the stable. Before my horse tips me again!”
As they reached the stable, Francis was beginning to dry off a little, not that he minded. To see Lady Ridlington laugh so freely, he would have happily jumped willingly into that water. As they came to a stop in the courtyard, they were still talking and laughing together.
“All right, I might not be the finest horse rider between us,” he acknowledged, “but I warrant I am the better swimmer from today.”
“You were the only one who swam!” she pointed out.
“Maybe so, but I think I would have been a very cruel host indeed to insist on you taking to the water too,” he said, watching as she laughed heartily.
As he jumped down from his horse, he found the courtyard was not empty. To his left, Mrs Goodman had appeared, ringing her hands together and appearing rather nervous.
“Mrs Goodman, is something wrong?” he asked, stepping away from the horse as the stable boy took hold of the reins.
“There is someone here to see you, Your Grace. They are most insistent,” she said, shaking her head in a kind of despair.
Francis glanced once to Lady Ridlington, seeing the fear that bubbled up in her features.
He cannot possibly know she is here, especially so soon.
He prayed he was wrong, that his suspicion was unfounded.
“Who is it?” he asked Mrs Goodman.
Chapter 9
“It is the Marquess of Dodge, Your Grace. It seems…there has been an incident at his house. Your sister…” Mrs Goodman trailed off and lifted her hands to cover her face, not saying anymore.
No more need to be said. Phoebe felt her body stiffen, just as Hayward hurried off. He didn’t even glance back at her, he just rushed away, heading straight toward the house.
Phoebe’s body lost its frozen state as she shook herself into action. She practically ran after Hayward as he sprinted into the house. Mrs Goodman had only needed to say those few words in order to put the fear into her heart, and evidently Hayward’s too. Phoebe bundled the skirt of her gown in one hand as she ran, keeping it out of the way of her feet. She passed through the courtyard, following in the wake of the puddles of water that Hayward was leaving behind him.
He hurried in through the front door, dampening the floorboards with his wet shoes as Phoebe struggled to keep pace with him, running behind. In the hallway, no longer able to see him, she had to follow the sounds of a door bursting open and a voice that followed.
“Why are you all wet?” the Marquess of Dodge asked. Phoebe sprinted in the direction of the voice, emerging in the drawing room a second later, breathing heavily as both men turned to look at her. She leaned on the doorframe, unable to say words as she struggled to catch her breath. “What happened to you?” the Marquess asked, pointing back to the drenched state Hayward was in.
“Call it an accident,” he said with a wry smile. “I’d make more of a joke on the matter, but you are here for a reason, yes? Mrs Goodman, she said something has happened to Diana?”
