Unmistakable and firm, the length of him pressed against the small of her back. Heat flooded through her, pooling low in her belly before a wave of pure horror crashed in behind it. She went rigid, every muscle locking with the force of a physical blow.
He felt the change. The moment she realized, his lungs froze mid-inhale and his entire body went still.
“Mrs. Ashford.” The question emerged as a strangled rasp, rough as gravel as he peered down at her. “Are you hurt?”
She couldn’t speak. Her mind refused to process the intimacy of the contact. In the water below, Hartley surfaced with a desperate gasp, sputtering as he treaded water.
“Mrs. Ashford! Are you—” The doctor’s shout broke the silence, yet Dominic’s arms didn’t release her. Whether from shock or a stubborn inability to let go, she didn’t know.
“Let go of me.” The words hitched in her throat, barely carrying through the air as she struggled to find her footing. “Let go.”
He released her instantly, stepping back so fast he nearly stumbled over a stray root. Nell spun to face him, her cheeks burning with a feverish heat and her eyes wide with outrage. He stood pale and stricken, his hands raised in front of him like a man proving he was unarmed.
She’d felt it. He knew she’d felt it, while there was no hiding the physical truth of what had occurred.
“I didn’t—” His words broke, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a frantic swallow. “The platform collapsed. I only meant to save you.”
“Don’t.” She held up a shaking hand to silence him. “Don’t say another word.”
“Nell—” He started, reaching out a tentative finger.
“Don’t touch me.” She shoved him, her palms flat against his chest. She struck him hard enough to make him stagger back a step, his heels skidding on the grass.
She stumbled backward, away from him and toward the jagged edge. “Nell, wait!” Dominic lunged forward, his face showing terror.
She jerked away from his reaching hand, but her heel caught on a splintered piece of timber. She went over. Through the gap. Into the dark, waiting water.
“NELL!” Her name tore from his throat, stripped of all titles and propriety as he reached for the empty air.
The water hit her like a physical slap. It was October-cold, shocking the very breath from her lungs, yet she surfaced gasping, her heavy skirts tangling around her legs like leaden weights.
Hartley was already there. He waded toward her through the reeds. “Mrs. Ashford.” He reached out, his steady hand an anchor in the chaos. “Take my hand. I have you.”
She reached for Hartley. She reached for the man in the water, ignoring the man standing paralyzed on the bank. Dominic stood frozen on the shore, his coat half off and one arm free of its sleeve. He watched, motionless, as another man played the savior.
Hartley pulled her close, his arm solid around her waist as he supported the burden of her sodden skirts. “I have you. You are safe.” He guided her toward the shallows where other guests had begun to gather, drawn by the commotion.
Someone wrapped a heavy wool coat around Nell’s shoulders as she was helped onto the grass. It was not Dominic’s; and he hadn’t moved from his spot. Hartley climbed out beside her, his teeth chattering as he shivered, yet his first concern was for her.
“Are you hurt? Did you hit anything on the way down?” He brushed a wet strand of hair from her face, tenderly.
“N-no.” The word was a mere wisp of air, barely holding together as a violent tremor took hold of her limbs. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to anchor her frame. “I am f-fine.”
She didn’t look at Dominic. She wouldn’t grant him even a glance. Daphne came running down the path, her skirts hiked shamelessly above her ankles, followed by a concerned Lady Philippa.
“Nell! What happened?” Daphne cried out, kneeling in the grass to take Nell’s hand.
“The platform collapsed.” Hartley’s voice remained steady despite his pallor. “We both went in. She is unharmed but cold. We need to get her home immediately.”
Daphne wrapped herself around Nell, shooting a glare at Dominic that could have curdled milk.
“My gig is nearby.” Hartley accepted a dry coat from a bystander. “I will take them home.”
“I can—” Dominic took a sharp step forward, his hand extending as if to catch her. The offer was stripped of its usual poise, jagged and exposed. “My carriage is at your disposal.”
“No.” The word left Nell’s mouth before he’d finished speaking. It was the first time she’d looked at him since the fall, and her eyes were flat, cold, and entirely empty of warmth. “Thank you, Lord Westmore. Dr. Hartley will see us home.”
The dismissal was absolute. It was public, humiliating, and entirely deserved, but Dominic stopped like she’d struck him across the face. Philippa reached his side, her expression unreadable as she placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t move; he simply watched as Hartley guided Nell away, with Daphne flanking her other side, until the three of them disappeared toward the drive. “Come.” Philippa took his arm, her grip firm. “We should leave as well.” Dominic let his aunt lead him away, feeling numb and hollow.
