Page 5 of The Earl's Heiress
“I’ll be damned,” he whispered.
Temple wasn’t expecting to find a woman dressed in men’s garments. He stared into the most delicate, beautiful face he had ever seen. Even drenched in rain, streaked with mud, and pale from the fall, her features were striking. Her face was heart-shaped, with high, refined cheekbones and a small, elegant nose. Her skin, though ashen, had a natural porcelain glow, as if kissed by moonlight. Thick lashes framed her closed eyes, and her dark, wet hair tendrils clung to her face and neck. Though slightly parted, her lips were full and exquisitely shaped, a soft blush of color that stood out against her pallor.
Temple’s heart lurched. For a moment, he forgot the storm, the cold, and even his own discomfort. All he could see was her. But she was deathly still, and alarm coursed through him.
“Miss?” he said urgently, leaning closer.
His voice was rough, hoarse from the cold and the surge of adrenaline. He reached out, his hand hovering over her shoulder before finally pressing against her neck, searching for a pulse.
He shook her shoulders. “Can you hear me?” he shouted above the roar of the rain and wind.
He waited, but there was no response. Her head lolled to the side like a rag doll. A chill ran through him. He hoped she wasn’t...
“Good God!”
He gently slapped her cheek, willing her to awaken, but she remained still. Lowering his head to her chest, he strained to hear her heartbeat, but all he could hear was the thunderous pounding of his own. What was he to do?
A memory flickered in his mind—a physician in Edinburgh years ago, demonstrating a life-saving technique. The physician had revived a lad who had nearly drowned, crediting the method to William Tossach’s teachings.
Bloody hell.
It had seemed miraculous then, but Temple had only observed it once. Could he replicate it now? The odds seemed impossible, but he had to try. He carefully checked her for broken bones, running his hands swiftly but gently over her slender frame. Her body, though well-curved and graceful, was utterly limp. He knew how inappropriate his actions would seem, but the circumstances left him no choice.
Her damp coat and shirt clung to her skin. Temple hesitated before loosening her coat and undoing the first few buttons of her shirt. Her skin was ice-cold to the touch, and dread pooled in his stomach.
Was he already too late? Her mouth hung open, her chest unnervingly still. He placed his hand near her lips but felt no breath. He clenched his jaw. He would do it. He had to. Temple knelt at her side, his hands shaking slightly as he pinched her nostrils closed with his thumb and forefinger. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers and exhaled firmly, distending her lungs with his breath.
He repeated the action again and again. It was harder than he’d imagined—demanding and riddled with uncertainty. The rain had finally eased, though the air remained heavy and damp, the storm’s rumble distant but ever-present. Temple continued,drawing on the memory of the Edinburgh demonstration. It wasn’t a quick process, but he refused to stop.
As he exhaled again, something unexpected happened. A moist, hot tongue brushed against his lips, sending a jolt through his body and tightening his chest. She tasted of vanilla and cinnamon. His breath caught, and he momentarily froze. A shrill shriek cut through the air, snapping him back to reality.
Temple lifted his mouth from the lady and whipped his head toward the sound, his stomach knotting with nerves. In his focus on the woman, he hadn’t noticed the approach of other riders.
“Upon my word!” a voice demanded, sharp with indignation. “What is the meaning of this?”
Temple saw a small group gathering. Horses snorted and pawed the ground, their riders casting incredulous and judgmental looks his way. Their hunting attire made them appear armed and ready for confrontation. Temple stiffened, noting the steely gaze of one gentleman who clearly had no qualms about using his weapon if provoked.
“You damn bounder!” the man snapped, his voice like a whip. “How dare you act in this manner?”
Temple locked eyes with him, his jaw tightening. He recognized the man—Lord Archer Jarvis, a former guest at Stanford Hall who had conducted business with his father.
“Good heavens!” gasped a lady from the group.
Her earlier shriek seemed to have given way to a look of scandalized disbelief. Her wide, shocked eyes raked over Temple before darting to the woman lying on the ground, her state of partial undress adding fuel to the fire of their assumptions.
“Explain yourself!” Lord Jarvis demanded.
Temple ignored the stares and murmurs rippling through the small group. Instead, he knelt and carefully gathered the unconscious woman into his arms. Rising to his feet, he held her close, shielding her as best he could from the prying eyes.Gasps erupted from some of the ladies while the men’s glares darkened.
“Ladies and gentlemen, things are not as they appear,” Temple said, his voice steady but firm. “I swear to you, on my honor, that I did not take advantage of this young lady.”
He invoked his honor, but a glance at Lord Jarvis revealed skepticism. The man’s expression all but accused him of wrongdoing, perhaps fueled by the lingering rumors about Temple’s involvement in his father’s death. Temple shifted his gaze over the growing crowd, realizing with a sinking heart that this would become a spectacle—and likely another mark against his name in the unforgiving circles of society.
“I know my eyes do not deceive me. My daughter was lying on the ground with her garments loose, and you, young man—”
The gentleman’s furious words left no doubt as to the ridiculous conclusion he had reached. Temple could understand how they might assume the worst, but it didn’t make the accusation any less infuriating. There was no way for this man to know he would never take advantage of a young woman, let alone ruin her reputation. He wouldn’t contemplate such a thing, much less carry it out.
“There is an innocent explanation for this scene,” Temple said, striving for calm as he met the man’s enraged glare. “This young lady was thrown from her horse, and I came over to assist her—”
