Robert gave his free hand a shake, sending droplets of water flying, before reaching down and attempting to squeeze the water out of the corner of his jacket. A useless cause, seeing how the rest of him was soaked.
When Robert made it to her side, Louisa tried to smile, but her lips wobbled.No. Please no. She wouldnotcry. But even as she thought the words, a sob wrenched from her throat. She pinched her eyes shut, trying to wall in her tears. And then she felt a strong hand on her back, pulling her close. Giving up the struggle, she rested her brow against Robert’s chest, the cooldamp of his jacket against her forehead. He felt so strong as he gently held her. An anomaly she couldn’t quite understand. She knew he was strong enough to lift her or defend her honor, but there was something about his soft grip on her back—as if it could support her through anything. And right now, she needed the steadiness of it. Of him.
He pressed his hand firmer against her back as her body jerked with her quiet sobs. For she was dearly trying not to cry.
“Shhhh.” He leaned down so his face pressed against her hair. “Prince is all right. Everyone is all right.”
She hiccupped, and Prince set to licking the salty tears from her face.
“Let us get home,” Robert said, tucking his chin on her head.
She sniffed. “Yes. I am causing quite the scene.”
“No, it was Prince who caused a scene.” His thumb ran circles along her spine, and she felt her breathing settle into a normal rhythm as his comfort seeped into her.
Wiping her eye, she pulled back from Robert’s chest. His hand held tightly for a moment before he let her go.
“I feel like a f-fool.” She hunched her shoulders and Robert put a hand on her back again, leading her toward the chaise. “Wh-who cries over such a thing?”
Robert remained silent, but his thumb kept tracing circles along her back as they walked. On the way home, he wrapped his arm about her shoulders, silently comforting her.
And she let him.
Chapter seventeen
Robert sat in hisleather chair in his library, a fire crackling away as he warmed himself. Norman had helped him change immediately upon getting home, and the staff had set to making a fire. He watched as Louisa tucked Prince in by the fire on a blanket, petting him every few moments as if assuring herself that he was there and whole.
This afternoon had offered a new view of his wife that he hadn’t considered. Lord Wood had warned Robert that he needed to pay attention to Louisa and her needs, but little did Robert realize that his wife clearly had a great fear.
Loss.
While the little dog had been struggling to swim, he had not been drowning by any means, yet she had been more than willing to throw off her garments and wade in after him. She was not one normally given to dramatics, being willing to shove her fist into a man’s face rather than run or scream for help. But Louisa’s hands had been shaking when he handed Prince back to her, and she had clung to him so tightly on the way home. Herfussing was lessening, but Robert could see just how affected she had been by the incident.
“You naughty dog,” she lightly scolded for the umpteenth time that afternoon.
Robert ran a finger along his chair. “I can see why your brother was so eager to be rid of him.”
Louisa’s head jerked toward him, scowling until she saw his smile. Her shoulders dropped, and she gave a shy grin. “Henry never much cared for him.” Robert waited, hoping she might say more. “Thank you,” she whispered, dipping her eyes to his knees. “I do not believe I have expressed my gratitude yet. I was only worried and forgot—”
“You are welcome, Louisa.”
Dewy eyes looked back to him before she turned to Prince and wiped the evidence away with one swipe of her wrist. “I did not know you were a swimmer on top of being a pugilist.”
“I am a man of many hats.” Robert leaned back in his chair, crossing one ankle over the other and clasping his hands across his middle.
Louisa stood, walking to the matching leather chair angled beside his and sitting with a sigh. “You seem to have to keep rescuing me.”
He lowered his brow. “And that bothers you?” Clearly it did, judging by the way she would not meet his eyes and the defeated tone of her voice.
“Yes. I had not meant for you to have to swim across ponds for me or throw men across an alleyway after they attempt to attack me.”
“I would hardly say Ithrewthe man.”
She raised a suggestive brow. “You most certainly did. And you could have been hurt, seeing as how he had been armed.”
“My fists were more dangerous than his little knife. Besides, any man worth his salt would lay down his life for his wife,let alone do something as simple as planting a facer on some blackguard.”
Her playful countenance dropped, her movements rigid as she stared at him. “I wish you didn’t have to do that.”
