Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

O liver followed his dog through the woods, wishing the canine understood the need for a larger path when he was on his steed. But Apollo didn't care much about such things when he was on the hunt. Half an hour ago, a horse had stumbled out of the woods, nearly knocking him and his own horse over. The light mare had a cut across one leg, likely from running through the underbrush. The horse was riderless, but the bulging saddlebags indicated that the horse had started out with a companion.

Oliver had chased after the horse until he caught and pulled on its reins. After speaking soothingly to the animal, he'd tied her up to a tree. The weather had picked up, making it difficult to follow the horses' tracks through the snow when Apollo bounded ahead of him. He'd called to Apollo hoping the dog would obey his order to come, but Apollo stood still, pointing deeper into the dense forest.

Oliver stopped alongside his dog. "What is it, Apollo?"

The dog responded with a large bark that echoed off the trees. He howled with a fierceness that Oliver only saw when Apollo was on the hunt.

Before he gave the command, Apollo was off again, down a steep part of the woods.

Poseidon neighed, knowing his aim was to follow the dog, but Oliver pulled him to the side. He'd seen where Apollo was headed, but that was no way for his horse to go. Instead he took the overgrown path that wound around the steep slope at a much more gradual slope. He could hear Apollo's barking and howling, though it was faint on the wind. And then he heard another cry. One more indecipherable. Had Apollo found an injured animal?

He urged Poseidon forward, taking care through the snow, until he found Apollo, beside a cloaked figure on the ground. Instinct kicked in as he dismounted, and the dog kept barking. "Good boy, Apollo," Oliver said, rewarding the dog with a pat on his head. Apollo whimpered.

"This must be the horse's lost rider," Oliver said aloud, moving toward the man on the ground. He didn't want to startle him so he said, "Hello, sir. I found your horse. I'm going to help you."

He put his hand forward to touch the man's shoulder, then removed the hood from his head. Panic filled him. "You're not a man." His pulse pounded in his ears at the sight of the young woman. He looked around but there was no sign of anyone else around. Drops of red blood were on the snow around her. He saw a little bit of blood at her temple, but wasn't sure where the rest of it came from. His vision blurred for a moment, everything around him seemed hazy. He couldn't focus. He couldn't fail, but fear threatened to strangle him.

Apollo's barking snapped him out of the daze that engulfed him. He had to help her. He had to save her.

He put a hand in front of her mouth. A small amount of breath came out, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was alive, but unconscious.

He rolled her lightly onto her back and then saw her scraped hands. There were no other injuries that he could see, though her once beautiful dress had many tears along the bottom. He whistled, and Apollo sat, giving his full attention to his master. "Apollo, we are going home." The dog wagged his tail as if understanding this news with excitement.

Apollo bounded up the steep slope again.

Oliver scooped the woman up in his arms, noting how cold she felt. Dread poured into him, but he couldn't think about possibilities. His focus was on getting her to his house, and getting her warm. That was his only thought.

He cradled her in his arms for a few steps until he was back to where he'd left his horse.

"I'm sorry about this, miss," he said to the unconscious woman, before he changed his grip and moved her up onto his shoulders, like a sack of flour. It was a good thing she was slight. He was able to hold her with ease.

With one hand resting on the small of her back, he grabbed Poseidon's pommel and mounted one handed. He spoke encouragingly to the horse as he repositioned the woman in front of him, holding her with both of his arms.

"I've never been so grateful for an obedient horse," he said to the unconscious woman, as he steered Poseidon up the steep slope with his knees. They took the area slowly. Oliver wasn't sure what injuries she'd sustained, but he wouldn't risk further injury or jostling more than he had to.

When they made it out of the deeper forest, Oliver guided Poseidon back to where he'd tied up the mare to a tree. Holding the woman with one arm, he quickly untied the mare and secured her lead onto his pommel. He didn't risk dismounting and laying the woman on her own horse. And he didn't trust this mare to follow without being tethered to his own horse.

His hunting lodge wasn't far from where they were, only a mile away, but the journey seemed to take too long as he rode with an injured woman in his arms, leading another horse that didn't seem to like being led. Apollo bounded back and forth, running ahead and then running back to Oliver, as if wondering what was taking so long.

He held her cradled in his arms, keeping her close to him, careful not to jostle her as he guided his horse with a very loose grip on the reins. She was beautiful. He'd noticed that through their journey. And he knew that if he'd thought about that much more, it would be a distracting thought that might get him through the storm, and through this misery.

Night fell, though it was hard to judge the precise time in the stormy weather. Wind blasted against them, sending an icy chill into his core. Through the falling snow, he could make out the edge of the clearing.

"We're not far now. We'll be inside soon, and you'll be able to get warm." He knew she likely couldn't hear him, but he'd felt better talking to her through the ride. It had calmed his own fears and concerns about the situation.

Apollo waited by the stable doors, no longer running back and forth.

"Sorry about this again, Miss, but I will have to put you back on my shoulder." He maneuvered her onto his shoulder, and dismounted with care, hoping she wouldn't be more injured from the jostling.

He held onto her securely, then moved toward the stable door. Cradling the woman in his arms as he did, he wasn't sure how to get the stable doors open with just one hand. The doors stuck, unwilling to budge. He pulled with more force, unwilling to set the woman down in the snow to use both hands. She groaned in pain but didn't open her eyes. "What am I to do?" he asked his question aloud.

He needed to get her inside as quickly as possible, but he had to stable the horses first. He trusted Poseidon to stay where he was put, but he didn't think her horse was trustworthy at all. After all, it was likely the horse's fault that she had been left injured and unconscious in the woods .

At the bottom corner of the door, he scuffed his boot, removing some of the snow away from door.

The woman stirred, moaned and with a flash her eyes fluttered open, a wild look in her light brown eyes. He felt her body tense with fear. She looked around, dazed and confused. He knew he had to allay her fears before she screamed and startled the animals.

He spoke softly, like he had earlier to her spooked horse. "My name is Ollie," he said, unsure why he'd decided to introduce himself by his childhood pet name. Perhaps it was because it had always sounded less intimidating than his formal title. "I'm trying to help you, miss. You fainted in the woods." It was a silly thing to say, but it was all he could think of as he looked at the beautiful woman in his arms. During their journey through the woods and the snow, he'd wondered what color her eyes were. And now the mystery was solved. The color almost matching the shade of her hair. They contrasted beautifully against her dark lashes.

She didn't say anything, so he kept talking.

"We're going to go inside the stable once I can get the door open," he said, scuffing his boot hard against the frozen snow. A blast of cold wind clawed at his skin. He could only imagine she was colder than he was.

"Please do not drop me in the snow." Her voice was hoarse, and she pressed in closer to him.

He wanted to laugh at that statement. "I will not drop you. I am carrying you into shelter. But I am going to put you down so I can open the stable door properly."

He held onto her as he gently put her feet on the ground. "Are you steady?"

"I am no wilting daisy," she said firmly.

He reached for the stable door. As his fingers wrapped around the latch, he saw the woman fall. He lunged toward her, trying to catch her, but she fell to the ground into a large pile of snow.

"Oh!" She cried out, her hands going immediately to her right leg, then she blinked up at him. "You dropped me!" Her voice carried with such energy that no one would have guessed she'd recently been unconscious.

"I promise I didn't mean for you to fall. Here let me assist you." He helped her stand, wrapping his arm around her waist to support her weight. She leaned on him heavily. "Easy does it." He pulled hard on the latch, removing the snow that had been lodged on it. It opened with a creaking. Swinging the doors wide, he pulled on Poseidon's reins, and the horse went into the stable, guiding the tan-colored horse that was still tethered to him.

Oliver quickly brought her inside the stable and set her down on a pile of fresh hay.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"I will take care of the horses quickly," he said. "I assume this one is yours." He pointed to the horse beside his own and undid the knot that had kept them together. He led both horses to their stalls.

Her voice was soft as she said, "You found Honey. Honey, we are going to have a very serious talk about you throwing riders in the woods."

Oliver's throat constricted. Horse accidents could be serious. "She threw you? How did you land?"

"On the side of my leg, mostly." Her teeth chattered between each word.

"Does anything else hurt?" he asked as he made quick work of feeding the animals and taking off their saddles.

"Everything hurts right now," she said, looking at her palms, her face drawn in lines of pain.

"We need to get you inside, next to a fire so you can warm up."

She attempted to stand, but cried out in pain again.

"Here, let me be of service," he said, putting his arms around the small of her waist again. She was shivering. "If you'll allow me to carry you again, we will make it to the house much faster."

She let out a breath. "This is hardly proper to be carried," she said, after Oliver had helped her outside and closed the stable door behind them.

There was nothing to be had for it. She couldn't walk, and he wanted to make sure that she was out of this weather as soon as possible. "I won't tell if you don't."

"I am sure I can manage." She tried for a moment, but she moaned with each step.

"May I?"

She nodded her consent .

He picked her up and carried her from the stable the rest of the way to the hunting lodge.

He supported her weight as he opened the front door. Then he picked her up again and set her on the settee. He brought her a blanket and settled it around her shoulders.

He took a few logs and put them in the fireplace and began building a fire. "We need to get you into dry clothes. You've been wet for too long."

She shivered. "Please don't sound like Mrs. Mead who would tell me that I'm going to catch cold by riding a horse."

"No, but you may get something worse. Pneumonia can be deadly. You must get dry."

She looked around, as if taking in her surroundings for the first time. "Are we the only ones here?"

He nodded slowly, then stoked the fire until it roared to life.

"I need to get into town. My cousins are expecting me, and … this is not proper at all." Panic settled in her eyes, but her whole body continued to shiver.

He held his palms facing toward her. "You've been hurt, and you need to warm up. I promise I am a man of honor. Do you have a change of clothes in your saddlebag?"

"Only a day dress."

As the fire crackled against the wood, Oliver stepped away from the flame and heat began filling the room.

"I shall retrieve your dress and return in a moment." He hurried outside to the stable and grabbed the saddlebag. He was about to close the stable door when Apollo started whimpering. The dog didn't want to be left in the stable, so Oliver whistled and Apollo followed him, wagging his tail excitedly.

Oliver reentered the house, and Apollo bounded in behind him. The woman screamed, hiding behind the blanket.

"Apollo, sit," he said, and the dog immediately obeyed, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as if he was the happiest animal in the world to listen to his master.

She clutched her hand to her chest. "I was fearful of the wolf in the woods, but it appears it may have been your dog."

Oliver rubbed Apollo behind the ears. "He's harmless, just a little on the excited side when meeting new people. He's the one that found you."

She gave the dog a wan smile. "I am grateful for your help," she said to the dog with all sincerity.

"I helped too," he said, not sure why he was jealous of the praise given to his dog.

She looked up at him, an eyebrow arched. "As I recall, you dropped me in the snow after I specifically told you not to."

His lips twitched. "I already explained that I did not mean to drop you."

"So you admit that you did, in fact, drop me."

He chuckled. "I apologize again, most profusely. We should hang your cloak by the fire."

She moved the blanket and shivered. She worked with the small clasp at her neck, and finally was able to undo it. "Where are we?"

"In the northwest corner of Peterboro."

"How far is that from Downham?"

Oliver's heart thudded at the name. "Nearly twenty miles."

"Twenty more miles! I am still so far from my destination."

"Where are you going to?"

"My relatives live in Downham."

"Why are you out here unaccompanied?"

"I was traveling accompanied with another family. We were making fine time and only had another day's journey to go, I thought. Mrs. Mead became ill so we stayed at an inn for an extra four days. I gave a note to the groomsman to let them know I'd gone on ahead. The groomsman gave me instructions, but he said it was only ten miles from where we were. That was barely an afternoon ride away. I would have made it to my cousin's house, I am sure, only my horse was spooked and threw me."

Oliver wondered what had spooked the horse. He hoped it hadn't been his hunting that had done it. Guilt spread through him that he could have been the cause of her injuries. He had to make it up to her. "You look tired. You've had quite the journey. You should get some rest."

"I will rest once I get to my cousin's house. There will be plenty of time when I get there."

"We've established that your destination is twenty miles from here. Surely, you wouldn't attempt a journey such as that when you are injured, especially by yourself in the dark, and in the middle of a storm." He lifted his eyebrows at her.

"I am quite capable," she said.

"I have no doubt that you are." She was obviously a spitfire. "But that doesn't mean that I as a man of honor can let you go out in such a condition, and in such weather."

Her eyes widened, and she looked around the cottage. "I cannot stay here with you. It would be improper. My reputation would be compromised and I should be forced to marry you, and that wouldn't do at all."

He held back his laugh. She was getting hysterical over nothing. "No one will be sullying your reputation while you are here. I already told you, I'm honorable."

"Yes, but does that actually matter? When the gossip starts I shall be forced to marry you, and then my entire plan will be foiled. Oh this will not do at all." She attempted to stand, but immediately began falling. He reached for her, catching her in his arms.

"You are hurt. You must stay and rest." He held onto her, though she pushed away from him, then winced before falling back onto the settee.

He took her hands in his. Her gloves were soaked and ripped on the palms, dried blood staining gloves and skin. "I am going to help you remove your gloves," he said slowly.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "You're my rescuer, then a stableman. Are you to be my nursemaid now?"

"Unless you prefer Apollo's help to mine. "

"I suppose in this case your help is preferable to his."

"With such confidence, I will do my best. Where else are you hurt?"

"It's unladylike to speak of such things."

"I mean to help you."

"You do not understand. This situation … I cannot stay here."

"I understand perfectly," he said. "And if there was another option, I would suggest it. But you are injured, and you're a woman, traveling alone. I would never turn you out."

"Do you have a neighbor nearby? In the female variety that I could stay with?"

He shook his head. "We are remote here. My closest neighbor is more than eight miles from here. And with the storm, I do not think it wise to be out again tonight."

She huffed out a breath, and in a resigned voice said, "Very well."

"You look exhausted," he said matter-of-factly.

At that she laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly. "And you must not be married."

A rush of cold, like a shadow pressed in on him. "I am not, but how did you come to think that?" He suddenly felt wary around her. Should he keep his guard up? Could this be a trap to ensnare him into marriage? He couldn't turn her out, even if it was a trick. His conscience wouldn't allow him to do such a thing.

"You just told me I look exhausted. Women, no matter their state, do not want exhaustion pointed out to them in so frank a manner."

His breathing eased. She was a force to be reckoned with. "I apologize for the unpolished statement of truth."

"I suppose it makes sense when you live so far from others. Conversing with tact is probably not something you are used to." She grinned at him, a glint in her eye.

This woman was positively fiery. Beautiful and fiery. Carrying her and holding her in his arms for so long this evening, he'd thought her as slight and delicate. He didn't think she was frail, though she'd fit easily into his arms when he'd held her on the horse and carried her inside. But he hadn't realized that she was a force to be reckoned with either.

Something stirred inside him. This woman was intriguing in the way she was trying to bait him. Still, he held his tongue, unsure about the motivations of this woman. Traveling alone was highly suspicious behavior, and until he knew more he would not divulge more than he had to.

He focused back on her light brown eyes—the firelight complimenting the beautiful golden color. He knew he had to respond, but somehow the words were sticking to the sides of his throat. "I give you my sincerest apologies, Miss. I only meant to say that after the ordeal you've been through, you should rest. It would be better for you to heal too."

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I admit I am more tired than I realized. "

"Have you recovered your strength enough to change in the bed chamber?" He didn't want to rush her, but she needed to get out of her wet clothes.

She attempted to stand, but then sank back onto the settee. "I cannot walk. My foot hurts terribly."

"May I help you?" he asked. "I can help you take off your boot…"

She blinked up at him. "I am capable of doing it myself." But after a few attempts she wrapped herself tighter in the blanket. "Very well, you may help me."

He knelt on the floor beside her. He worked at the wet laces, but it was impossible to see what he was doing as she kept pushing her skirts down over her boots. He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want me to help you?"

She pushed her skirts down again, covering her boots. "It is completely improper for you to look at my ankles."

He pressed his lips together. "I am trying to assist you in taking off your boot. I have to look at your boot to help take it off."

"No you don't."

"Have you a better idea on how to accomplish the task?"

She nodded. "Close your eyes."

"You want me to take off your boot without looking?"

She smiled. "Yes."

He shook his head but closed his eyes at her request. Trying to undo the laces without looking was an impossible task.

She laughed. "You are not very skilled at this. "

He joined in laughing with her. "It would be easier if I could see." He opened one eye and looked directly into her eyes.

She nodded. "Very well." She clutched her skirts as if she would continue to push them down to cover her boots, but instead she lifted her foot slightly above the hem, wincing as she did. He loosened the laces and pulled and tugged on the boot. She winced and moaned with almost every movement. Once the boot was off he took off her wet stocking, revealing her red and purple foot and ankle. He wasn't sure if it was broken, but it was at the very least sprained. The entire ankle was swollen, but it could have been so much worse.

He looked at her and noticed that she'd been studying him. He put on a brave face, wondering how best to help her with the injury. "I will attend to your hands and your ankle once you have changed into dry clothes."

She nodded, and he lifted her off the settee and into his bed chamber where she'd have privacy to change.