Stone shifted beneath my feet as I slid down the pile to the floor, careful to avoid dislodging any pieces that might fall onto her. My knees touched the ground, and I immediately reached for her neck to feel for a pulse. It was there, though certainly not as strong as it should have been.
I cradled her head in my lap and brushed the water-logged strands of hair from her face. Her skin felt like ice.
“Annette?” My voice caught with emotion. “Come, love. Open your eyes.”
Her brows furrowed, and a muted moan rumbled from her throat.
I stroked her cheek, my eyes stinging with both relief and concern. “That’s it. Come back to me.”
“Edward?” she croaked out my name, and a surge of emotion swept through me, but her eyes remained closed. I needed to get her warm.
I slid an arm under her knees to hoist her in my arms, but at the first movement, Annette cried out in pain. I ceased my efforts, searching her for any sign of injury, only to find her ankle pinned between two large stones. She was trapped. That was why she hadn’t returned to the house.
“Hold on, love,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before settling her against the floor.
I moved to her feet and began removing the debris first on top of the stones pinning her before gripping the edges of the larger. The massive chunk of ceiling weighed too much for me to lift. Instead, I resorted to wiggling it back and forth, straining my muscles to shift it. After several eternal minutes, Annette’s ankle was free.
I lifted her into my arms, and she winced with a soft whimper. Holding her tight against me, I glanced around the space for an alternative exit. Climbing over the rubble with her in my arms was out of the question. Panic seized me until I spotted an opening in the shadows.
We started forward, and Annette gripped my coat, pain evident in her features. I focused on my footing as I picked my way through the ruins. Dropping her would not help the situation.
The outer wall came into view, and I wound through the remaining pathway to the open courtyard where Lightning waited. Apsley, who had been scaling one of the walls, called to me, and by the time I reached my horse, he was running across the muddy ground.
“You found her. Is she all right?” His words were breathy, and his chest rose and fell in heavy gasps.
“Her pulse is weak. Her ankle was pinned and is, at the very least, swollen. It may be broken, but I did not check. I thought it prudent to get her back to the house.”
Apsley placed his hand on her forehead, then checked her pulse, as if needing to know for himself she was alive.
“Take her,” I said. “Once I’ve mounted my horse, you can hand her up to me.”
He met my gaze, his expression one of defiance. “I’m her brother. If anyone is—”
“I realize you have lost your trust in me, but now is not the time for this argument. She requires a doctor. As I do not know where he lives and would wager that you do, it is left for me to take her. Unless there is a servant nearby who can—”
“Very well,” Apsley growled. “I will hand her up to you.”
With a bit of maneuvering, Annette rested in my arms, both of us positioned atop my horse. Apsley mounted his own steed. “Get her home and tell Mother I’ve gone to bring the doctor.”
He was off before I could respond. I tightened my hold on Annette, who was clinging to my damp waistcoat once again. I doubted my body was providing her with much warmth at this point, given how chilled I felt, so I could only assume she nuzzled into me out of desperation for even the smallest bit of heat.
She shivered in my arms, digging her face into the folds of my coat. I nudged Lightning with my heels, and the horse cantered forward.Hold on, Annette. Just a little longer.
Chapter twenty-seven
Edward
LadyPaxtonhadalwaysbeen the epitome of genteel grace and decorum in my presence, but the sight of her daughter, soaked through with rain, her face a pale color that reflected the icy temperature of her skin, brought the viscountess to near hysterics. Relief that Annette had been found warred with the new concerns of sickness. Concerns I understood all too well.
“We should get her upstairs,” said Jack, who showed far more comportment than his mother, though there was no mistaking the worry in his knitted brows. “Someone must send for the doctor as well.”
“Your brother is on his way there now.” I shifted, adjusting my hold on Annette. “Your son is right. We should get her comfortable before the doctor arrives.”
“Yes,” said Lady Paxton, seeming to shake out of her hysteria somewhat now that she had a plan to focus on. “Yes, of course. Come, you must grow weary of holding her. Can you manage the stairs?”
“Well enough.” My muscles were beginning to strain, but I had no desire to pass off the responsibility to anyone else.
I carried Annette up the central staircase behind Lady Paxton and followed her to the family wing. She directed me to place Annette in her bed and then stood at the entry, frantically shouting for one of the servants to draw up a warm bath. I slid my arm from beneath Annette’s legs and rested her head against the pillow, willing her to open her eyes. I needed to see those blue depths. I needed reassurance that all would come about. That she would be well.
