A heartbeat later, she found herself flung unceremoniously over what was undoubtedly a male shoulder before said male bolted into motion, weaving and dodging his way across the hall before he broke into a full-out run once he reached the hallway.
A part of her couldn’t help but be impressed that the manhauling her around didn’t seem winded in the least as he ran her out of the house, down the steps, and then lowered her onto a stone bench.
Any favorable impression she’d begun to hold for her rescuer disappeared in a flash, though, when she tilted her head back and found herself looking up at none other than Mr. Rhenick Whittenbecker—a man she’d hoped to never encounter again.
“Are you alright, Miss Merriweather?” Rhenick asked as he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and took the liberty of pressing it against her forehead. “If you haven’t realized, you’re bleeding, and somewhat profusely at that.”
“I’m perfectly capable of holding a handkerchief to my head without assistance” was all she could think to say, since reminding the man that she’d promised to shoot him if he ever darkened her doorstep again might very well be taken as a sign she wasn’t appreciative of his remarkably timely assistance.
“I’m sure you are, but you have numerous wounds on your head. It’ll be easier all around if I just stanch some of the blood for you.” He gave the wound he was already attending to a dab before he moved the handkerchief an inch to the left and pressed it against another wound. “How in the world did it come about that you found yourself set upon by ravens? I’ve never heard that they’re prone to attacking people.”
“I’d never heard that either, but evidently if you dislodge a nest from a chimney where they’re roosting, they turn vicious.”
Rhenick frowned. “What were you doing in the chimney?”
“It needed cleaning.”
He blinked. “And you decided to do that cleaning?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time, what with how my sister is occupied with other matters, my mother is refusing to come out of her room, and most members of my staff are pushing seventy, except for Riley, our stable hand. Riley’s afraid to step foot in the castle, though, because my mother claimed to have seen a ghost the other night.”
Drusilla squared her shoulders. “But speaking of my staff, if you’ll excuse me, I really do need to check on Mr. Grimsby, my butler, and Mrs. O’Sullivan, our cook, because the last I saw of them, they were in the process of fleeing from the great hall.”
“You’re in no fit state to get off that bench, so I’ll find them,” Rhenick said before he pressed a handkerchief that was now dotted with blood and soot into her hand. “Hold that in place while I’m gone. I’ll be back momentarily, and then we can see about cleaning and dressing your wounds properly.” With that, he got off the bench and strode toward the castle.
Drusilla watched him disappear through the door, but continued staring at the door even after he was out of sight because—it was difficult to hold a grudge against a gentleman who’d saved her from an unexpected bird assault.
It was also difficult to harbor ill-feelings toward a man who’d taken it upon himself to mop up her bloody forehead and then insist on reentering the scene of the crime, so to speak, to rescue members of her staff when doing so might result in him suffering some manner of personal injury as well.
Having a gentleman take control of a troubling situation was a novel experience to be sure, given that every gentleman in her life had left her to handle a world she willingly admitted she was ill-equipped to manage, unless he’d only rushed to her assistance because he was still determined to acquire the castle and land, and had viewed taking on a few ravens in order to accomplish that as a small price to pay.
Shoving aside thoughts that were leaving her with the distinct urge to throttle something—preferably Rhenick Whittenbecker, if what she’d been thinking turned out to be true—Drusilla took a moment to dab at blood dribbling down her face right as Annaliese came barreling around the castle. Her sister caught sight of her a second later and made a beeline her way, coming to a stop once she reached the bench, her eyes widening as she took to looking Drusilla up and down.
“What happened to you?”
“You didn’t hear the ruckus coming out of the great hall?”
“There was a ruckus?”
“How could you not have heard it?” Drusilla asked. “Ravens were everywhere, and they weren’t happy after I disturbed their nest in the chimney.”
“You were attacked by ravens?”
“Indeed.”
Annaliese blinked. “I’m sorry I missed that, as I don’t believe it’s usual raven behavior for them to go on the attack, but I missed all that excitement because I’ve been trying to find Mother.”
“Should I ask why?”
“You do remember that my darling Pippin was running around with a rat in her mouth, don’t you?”
Drusilla winced. “Do not say Mother saw that.”
“Oh, she did more than see it because Mother heard me scolding Pippin right outside her room and evidently thought I was Mrs. O’Sullivan finally bringing her a tray.” Annaliese shook her head. “The hysterics began the second Mother spotted Pippin, who promptly dropped her dead rat at Mother’s feet, and then ... the situation turned downright concerning when Fidget and Wiggles showed up.”
“Should I ask why the appearance of your other two ferrets turned the situation concerning?”
Annaliese winced. “That would be on account that they wanted to bring Mother presents as well, but while the snake Wiggles dropped next to the dead rat was no longer alive, I’m afraid the rat Fidget had was very much so. Before I could do more than tell Fidget she was averybad girl, the rat scurried into Mother’s room, which caused Mother to dash down the hallway, screaming at the top of her lungs.”
