Her playful expression vanished, and she appeared panicked. “I fear I cannot. I don’t want to become that personal with you.”
His hopes dropped. “I understand, but I hope you know that we can be friends, and as such, you can call me Gavin.”
“I shall keep that in mind, Your Grace.”
Gavin stood, moved to the hearth, and tossed another log onto the fire. He took the poker and moved the broken log and ashes. When he straightened, he walked to the window and peered outside. The rain continued to fall in buckets.
Although he was not in any hurry to return to the manor, he was certain his grandmother would be worried. He didn’t want to lie to her, yet if he mentioned that he and Priscilla were in the woodsman’s cottage during the storm, the dowager might guilt him into doing the “right thing” and marrying Priscilla.
He still didn’t want a wife. Not now, when there was so much turmoil with the estate and finding the stolen money. No matter what, he needed to come up with a good excuse to tell his grandmother so that he could get out of marriage—and not ruin Priscilla’s name in the process.
Chapter Seven
Priscilla stared atthe fire that was getting smaller and smaller by the second. They were out of wood, and yet the rain still poured from the heavens. The pain in her ankle had lessened as well as the swelling, but she still kept it propped on the edge of the sofa. She didn’t know the exact time, but she was getting hungry. Gavin had wandered through the cottage a few times, and from the sounds of his grumbling, he hadn’t found any food.
He stood by the rain-streaked window, staring outside. Even if he didn’t say it, she knew he was worried about their situation because he kept glancing at the fire as it slowly dwindled. When he glanced at it again, he sighed and turned toward her.
“How does your ankle feel?”
She shrugged. “It is not throbbing as badly as it was earlier, but then, I haven’t placed my weight on it.”
He motioned toward the window. “The rain doesn’t look like it is stopping anytime soon. I fear we will soon need to head back to the house regardless of the storm. We have no choice. There is no food, and no more firewood.”
“Yes, I know.”
He walked to the sofa and crouched down to her level, staring into her eyes. Up this close, she had forgotten how green his eyes were, and how she had loved looking into them before. He had eyes that could melt her quicker than ice on a hot day.
“Cilla, will you be able to make the ride with me back to the house? I guarantee we will be soaked clear through, but at least we will be home to change and eat.”
Nodding, she turned on the sofa, slowly moving her foot to the floor. “Let me put my stockings and boots back on first.”
He walked to the wooden chair by the fire and grabbed her stockings and boots, bringing them back to her. “Would you like me to help you?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Have we not already had this conversation?”
He chuckled. “Yes, but I was hoping your answer would be different this time.”
Priscilla knew that this was part of his charm. She just had to get used to it, even if she constantly reminded him that although he might not be a truegentleman, she was still a lady. “I’m sorry, but I must stick to my original answer.”
He grinned and moved away. “Then while you finish dressing, I shall venture outside and get the horse ready. I shall also give you enough time to pull your stockings and boots on before coming to get you.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Your Grace.”
Once he left, she quickly pulled up her gown, which was thankfully mostly dry now, and yanked on her stockings, taking care not to bump against her ankle too much. When she tried to wiggle her foot, the sprain was still quite sore, but she still attempted to slide her foot into her boot. Pain shot up her leg, making her cry out. Letting her injured leg rest, she slid her other foot into her boot and laced it up.
Taking deep breaths, she willed herself to fight against the pain. Her boot must go on no matter what. She bit down hard and tried again, being more careful this time as she inched the boot up over her toes, but the moment it touched her ankle, the fierce pain returned.
Frustrated, she sobbed and closed her eyes. There was no way around it. She would have to ride back to the manor without a boot.
Just then the door opened, and she looked up at Gavin as he entered. He grumbled and swiped the water off his head and face. He closed the door with more force than she thought he should have. Something must be dreadfully wrong.
When he looked at her, she could read it in his expression. Indeed, something wasn’t right.
“The horse has run off,” he snapped.
Groaning, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Without the animal we will have to walk, which means you need to go without me.”
“No.” He knelt on one knee in front of her. “I’m not going to leave you here.”
