It shouldn’t have been.
But as she began to descend, a wave of dizziness hit her, and she swayed backward. Jerking abruptly, she gripped the wood and closed her eyes.
Unfortunately, by shifting her weight, she’d dislodged the trellis itself. There were a few ominous cracking sounds, and then the trellis very slowly swayed away from the wall. And as it began falling backward, her hopes fell with it.
Not only was she going to fall, but the entire structure was coming along with her. An unhappy accident that would certainly draw the attention of at least one of her father’s servants.
She silently clutched the trellis in horror and watched as the roof came into view, and then the sky. Time stood still, and she felt almost weightless.
The lawn was thick and lush. It might cushion her enough to protect her from serious injury… or worse. Because she wasn’t prepared to give up quite yet.
She certainly wasn’t ready to die. Something had awakened in her today, and for the first time, she could see a different future than what she’d been raised to accept. She wanted the opportunity to discover her own life.
And as luck would have it, fate had the same idea.
Rather than hit the ground, Nia slammed into something soft but solid, hard but giving, and judging by the grunting sound it made, human, and distinctly masculine.
Strong arms wrapped around her before they both collapsed onto the ground.
And somehow, without seeing his face, she knew the identity of her human cushion.
Lord Westcott.
Buried beneath the trellis, as well as miles and miles of English ivy, Nia lay stunned into silence.
But not for long. “I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “Did I hurt you?” But she had no intention of waiting around for his answer. She was on a mission, and seeing as she’d survived this catastrophe, she couldn’t make niceties while servants reported the incident to her father.
“Are you hurt?” His voice spurred her into action, and she twisted around to stare into hazel eyes. There, she saw an emotion she wouldn’t have expected.
Concern.
But she couldn’t trust him. He’d betrayed her once already today!
“This is all your fault! I wouldn’t have had to climb out if you hadn’t sent for my father.”
“So you are not hurt?” His hands moved along her arms as though searching for some sort of injury.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“In that case, you’re welcome,” he growled.
And when she ought to be twisting out of his grasp, Nia instead found herself inhaling his scent—leather and musky with a hint of mint and… horse. She couldn’t help but notice how his body cushioned hers, warm and strong. He seemed as hard as the ground but had prevented her from being injured.
Or worse.
And now her cheek rested on his chest where the two of them lay hidden by the leafy structure. It was oddly intimate, and she, for no appropriate reason, couldn’t bring herself to move out of his arms.
Because once she climbed out from beneath this trellis, she’d be on her own again. Which she wanted. She did! But the prospect also terrified her.
“What are you doing here?” She whispered this time. He’d certainly been happy enough to be rid of her earlier.
She waited for his answer, even knowing that servants would come running any moment. Even if they hadn’t heard the crash from inside, the bishop could arrive any second.
“Catching you.” His mouth twitched.
Was he making a joke? If he was, she couldn’t tell because he mostly sounded annoyed.
Catching me? Ha!
