As she drew closer, she began to note the differences in him. At the celebration, he had laughed, and his hazel eyes had warmed with merriment and teasing of his friends. He was relaxed. Such was not the case now. There was a sadness about Ashford that he had not carried before.
“Is all well with you, Mr. Ashford?”
He blinked at her then frowned. “Um…well…I suppose.”
“That is not an answer,” she replied. “Is it your head?”
Julian Ashford had suffered a horrible head injury in a carriage accident over a month ago and even though he was up and about, she’d been told he still suffered from unsteadiness and headaches on occasion. Some had even been so debilitating that he’d needed to take to his bed in a dark, quiet room.
“I suppose the pains have been plaguing me.” He rubbed his neck as if he wished to loosen the muscles.
“We should go back to the manor so that you can rest,” she offered.
“I am perfectly well, Miss Doyle,” he insisted with a bit of irritation.
Cait hadn’t meant to offend and took a step back. “I apologize.”
Ashford blew out a sigh. “It is I who should apologize, Miss Doyle. I find my temper is short of late, which is completely out of character.”
“It cannot be easy when your injury continues to bother you.” She’d be on edge as well.
“It has been long enough that I should be done with this nonsense.”
A head injury was not nonsense, but she’d not correct him. “You are not a patient man, I see,” she teased. “It will go away in time.”
“I know.” He blew out another sigh. “Will you be returning to Harrington Manor or the school?”
Cait hadn’t been certain of her plans, but now that Ashford had acknowledged her, she wasn’t returning to the school until necessary. “Harrington Manor.”
He offered his arm. “Shall we?”
Cait slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, thrilled to be so close to Ashford and allowed him to escort her to the stairs cut out of the rocks that led to the back lawn of Harrington Manor. He stepped back so that she could precede him, and she hiked her skirt to keep from tripping and placed a hand upon the railing as she climbed.
Once she reached the top, Cait stopped and turned to await Ashford, but as soon as he took the final step, his foot slipped, and he disappeared.
Julian quickly graspeda protruding rock and the railing as his knee slammed on the stone step. Pain shot up his leg and back and into his skull. Immediately nausea struck, and he had to pause a moment to take a deep breath. Sweat broke out on his brow and he pulled himself back up, but as soon as he took a step, the throbbing in his leg intensified as his head began to pound much as it had during those darker days just after the carriage accident.
Grasping the railing, Julian fought the wave of dizziness, nausea and stars flashing at his peripheral vision and he slowly made his way to the lawn where he dropped to the ground as sweat dripped from his brow.
This is not what he wanted Miss Doyle to witness.
“Mr. Ashford, should I get someone?” she asked as she knelt at his side.
He didn’t have the strength to answer but shook his head in the negative.
“Then I shall sit with you.”
Before he could object, Miss Doyle plopped down beside him and brushed her fingers through his hair. It was the gentlest of touches and it was all he could do not to roll over and rest his head in her lap.
When Julian had met Miss Doyle last winter, he had been quite taken with her. Not only had he tried to extend his visit to Harrington Manor, but he pulled her into conversation whenever the opportunity arose. At first it had been her blonde hair with streaks of gold when she stood in the sun and her green eyes that always held warmth that had attracted him. Then he came to know her and nearly fell in love. Such a sweet, gentle, and intelligent woman, but she deserved far more than he could give her.
Julian’s position with the Alien Office, overseen by the Home Office, required that he could never tell her the truth and would often need to leave at a moment’s notice with no expectation of when he might return. Or worse, his position required that while in London during the Season, or at house parties, or in Bath, he was to spend his time drinking, gambling, and flirting while gaining information. He could not continue to do so if he were married, nor would he wish to bring such embarrassment to a wife. Therefore, he’d not pursued Miss Doyle, even though he had wished to court her.
However, his circumstances had changed. He was the heir and thus, was tasked with the duty of begetting one himself.
Not that he was ready to propose to Miss Doyle. He did not know her nearly well enough, but there was nothing to stop him from a possible courtship while he remained at Harrington Manor.
Julian hated that he had crumpled to the ground because of the pain, and that he still lay there contemplating a future. It was not well done of him. It didn't matter that she sat down next to him and put her fingers through his hair—a comfort that he had not experienced in a very long time. He did not want to be seen as weak. He'd had enough of feeling that way every time the blasted dizziness struck, or the headaches, and he was not going to let anything else debilitate him, especially in front of Miss Doyle.
