Lilli sucked in a breath and gritted her teeth. “Damn and blast.”
Palms flat on the ground, she leaned forward, hefted her weight onto the left side of her body, and tried to pull her leg free.
Her foot didn't budge.
“Bloody hell.” She scowled at the ground. Where on earth had this hole come from? It hadn’t been here on her previous visit. Panting, she made another series of attempts to free herself only to realize that it was no use.
She was stuck and would now have to wait for someone to realize she hadn’t returned to Stratham House. No doubt her parents would be the ones to come find her.
Lilli sighed in exasperation.
Brilliant!
Tristan knew Islington’s family had arrived a couple of hours ago, but since he’d been in no rush to make their acquaintance – or more specifically to make Lady Lilliana’s – he’d found a series of tasks to engage in. Like brushing Islington’s hats and wiping them clean on the inside so they would look perfect should Islington choose to go out.
After reviewing the dressing room for a third time to ensure all was neat and in order with every item of clothing perfectly folded and wrapped in linen to protect it from dust, Tristan decided it might be prudent to check on the trap he’d prepared that morning.
In his opinion, digging a hole, covering it with foliage, and leaving apple and carrot pieces as bait was the simplest way to catch a rabbit. In London one rarely found a decent sized animal, so he was glad to be away in the countryside where he could put his trap–setting skills to good use.
He took the servants’ stairs to the kitchen, grabbed a burlap sack, and headed toward the woods. Islington had told Tristan he needn’t trouble himself, that the game keeper would catch whatever was to be served for dinner. But Tristan enjoyed the pursuit and was more than happy to accomplish it when time allowed. So he’d gone out to dig a sizeable hole three hours before his master usually arose and expected Tristan to help him with his toilette.
Branches reached across to the path leading into the woods, obscuring the sky. A woodpecker hammered its beak against a tree while what sounded like a goldfinch twittered among the canopies.
Tristan strode forward, his boots disturbing some of last year’s left over leaves which had since turned muddy. With the burlap sack slung over one shoulder, he reached a fallen elm, then turned off the path. A shrew scampered away, disappearing into the undergrowth at the exact same time Tristan heard a series of expletives coming from nearby.
“I’ll murder whoever did this,” came the next words, followed by additional curses.
Tristan quickened his pace. It sounded like someone required assistance and judging from the tone, that someone was a woman. But what he didn’t expect was for said woman to be the quarry he’d caught in his trap.
Blistering barnacles.
He ran forward and fell to the ground beside her. “Allow me to help.”
Hazel eyes, more green than brown, met his and for a brief moment his world stood still. The only movement Tristan registered was the rapid beat of his heart. Never in his life had he–
“I believe you offered assistance?”
He blinked and quickly shook himself free from the snare he’d been caught in. “My apologies.”
Humor tugged at the edge of the woman’s pink lips, slanting her mouth while a blush tinged her cheeks. When she spoke next, her voice was softer, perhaps even a little bit timid. “I’m just glad you happened along when you did. The position I’m in is not particularly comfortable, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get up. Provided you’re able to free me.”
Noting that her leg was knee deep in the hole, Tristan hesitated. He swallowed. “If you’ll permit, I’d like to reach inside the hole, along the length of your leg, in order to find the obstruction.”
When she didn’t reply he glanced at her face again and saw that her color had deepened. She stared at him as if he’d asked for her hand in marriage. But then she slowly nodded, as if with a great deal of thought behind the gesture.
Tristan’s pulse quickened. His stomach tightened. It was the most peculiar thing, but it occurred to him that he’d been holding his breath while desperately hoping for her compliance. Because, Lord help him, he’d never longed to touch a woman as much as he longed to touch her. Hell, he had the most inexplicable need to run his fingers through her blonde hair, to trace the edge of her jaw, and to inhale her fragrance.
It made no logical sense. She was a stranger and he ought not be having such inappropriate thoughts. And yet, the moment his hand found the length of her calf and the delicate curve of her ankle, it was as if his every desire came crashing over his head.
Feeling much like an inexperienced youth who’d never encountered a female before, Tristan forced himself to ignore his body’s response and to carefully figure out why she was stuck. It didn’t take long to discover the tree root looped around her ankle. As impossible as it seemed, her foot had gone straight through it. In her current position, she could not pull her foot out or reach inside the hole to free it with her own hands.
With the utmost care, Tristan wedged his fingers between the root and the woman’s ankle, increasing the space. When this didn’t help, he grabbed his knife. “I promise you won’t be harmed, but I’m going to have to cut you free.”
Instead of looking afraid or even the slightest bit hesitant, she gave a swift nod of agreement. “All right.”
It occurred to Tristan that finding a woman who remained calm in a situation most would have found untenable was rare. Especially when a stranger suggested wielding a sharp blade close to her flesh. He made the cut before she could change her mind and helped pull her leg out of the hole.
A slim leg, clad in a torn stocking, emerged. It was followed by a soiled leather boot.
