Page 60 of A Bride By Morning
Lydia was exhausted.
Gabriel rode for hours that night, stopping only to rest the horses and let them drink from streams they passed on the way to Devon. Lydia swallowed every complaint, never once beseeching Gabriel to stop for a warm fire or a meal in a tavern. After all, between Lydia and her husband, she had the more leisurely journey. Gabriel did not once stagger from exhaustion, nor did he snap at her in impatience when it took her three attempts to swing into the saddle at their final stop.
Instead, he remained steady behind her, his voice always gentle and his touch always soft. At some point, Lydia set the back of her head to his shoulder and passed out in exhaustion.
An hour before their arrival at Langdon Manor, the imminent rainclouds that threatened their travel finally broke. The deluge soaked them through in an instant. Gabriel’s arm tightened around Lydia’s middle—offering her the warmth from his body—but pressed on.
Lydia was shivering so much that by the time they arrived at Langdon Manor, she could barely slide out of the saddle and into Gabriel’s waiting hold.
“Just the one horse,” Gabriel shouted over the downpour to someone behind Lydia—the stablehand, she gathered. She could barely keep her eyes open.
Gabriel swung her up in his arms and carried her into the manse. The sudden chatter of servants echoed through the vestibule, their voices reaching Lydia as if from a great distance. What were they saying? Were they speaking to her? She could hardly concentrate on their words.
“Lady Montgomery needs a fire urgently,” Gabriel said. The heels of his boots pounded across the marble foyer.
“My lord, did something happen?” The heavy clank of keys indicated that the voice came from the housekeeper.
“Carriage accident,” he said shortly, holding Lydia close. “The fire, Mrs. Dunford?”
“The maids already set it in preparation for your arrival. Shall I send someone for the doctor or have the maids draw a bath? Perhaps something cold for your face? The bruising will—”
“Not tonight,” Gabriel said. His hand constricted at Lydia’s shoulder, and she knew his forbearance was on a short tether. That he managed to communicate with such composure at all was remarkable. “Goodnight, Mrs. Dunford.”
Lydia heard skirts rustle as the other woman left.
What about you?she wanted to ask Gabriel. When she rested her forehead to Gabriel’s bare neck, his skin was as chilled as hers. All his earlier warmth was absent; he had given it to her.
She felt him mount the stairs, striding briskly. After a few minutes, he pushed open a door. The room’s heat instantly crashed into Lydia in a warm, welcome wave, assisted by the blazing fire in the hearth. Lydia cracked open her lids to see the maids gape at husband and wife in alarm.
Gabriel ignored their shock. “Get out,” Gabriel told them, his tone brusque and commanding now. His own fatigue had shattered Lord Montgomery’s charming facade.
The maids quit the room in a hurry.
Gently, Gabriel set Lydia down in one of the chairs, his hands steadying her when she threatened to collapse again. His eyes filled with worry as he stripped the sodden gloves from her fingers and attempted to massage the warmth back into her limbs.
“Your lips are blue,” he said softly.
“I’ll be fine.” Lydia’s teeth chattered so severely that she could barely get the words out.
“I need to get these wet clothes off you.”
“You first.” He’d already supported her enough.
But Gabriel only gave her an indulgent look and assisted Lydia to her feet. She couldn’t even muster a thrill when he stepped behind her and began unbuttoning her dress with deft fingers.
“You really should take care of your own.” Her words were slurred with cold and exhaustion.
“I am taking care of my own,” he said, voice soft.
Oh, she thought. He was talking abouther. If she hadn’t been so cold, Lydia would have flushed with pleasure.
Gabriel finished unfastening her soaking gown, which fell to the carpet with a heavythwap. Then he started on her underthings, his hands shaking as he unlaced her corset. Gabriel’s beautiful, pale face was almost severe as he concentrated on removing her remaining garments, tossing each item into a pile on the floor. When Lydia was naked, Gabriel seemed almost indifferent to her nudity.
“Wait here.” Lydia watched as Gabriel pulled the blankets from the bed and assembled a soft pallet in front of the hearth. “The bed would be more comfortable, but this will be warmer for you,” he said.
With the makeshift bed in place, Gabriel helped Lydia onto the floor and covered her with the fire-warm blankets. Her skin prickled, the sensation almost painful as the warmth suffused through her frozen limbs.
Gabriel remained with Lydia, once more taking her hands into his to rub feeling back into her fingertips. Lydia watched him beneath heavy eyelids, studying the damp strands of auburn hair that had begun to curl at the neckline of his wet shirt. The bruising on his face was more prominent, but it did not detract from his beauty. If anything, it lent his features a sort of ferocity that fitted him far better than Lord Montgomery’s charisma.
