Page 9 of To Win a Viscount's Heart
He placed a finger on the boy’s neck and felt a strong and steady pulse.
Thank God!
Scooping the boy up in his arms, he got his second shock of the day when the boy’s large floppy hat tumbled to the ground revealing a long thick braid.
“My god, it’s a girl.”
“My lord, I heard barking and shouting,” Connery shouted as he ran from the stables.
“I need your help.”
“What happened?” Connery asked as he reached Gerald’s side.
“Her horse was spooked by Dutch and the girl fell to the ground,” Gerald said. “Help me get her inside.”
Connery reached under the girl’s head and muttered a curse. He held up his fingers and Gerald saw they were sticky and dark. “Blood.”
“She must have hit her head on a rock when she fell,” Gerald said, his fear for the girl increasing.
Shouts from the manor house reached their ears as the front door flew open and his butler, several footmen flew down the steps carrying lanterns that flooded the area with light.
In the bright glow of the lanterns, Gerald was surprised to see that the figure he held in his arms was no girl, but a young woman.
“I need to get her inside, “Gerald said, his voice sounding frantic to his own ears. “Please see to her horse and Dutch.”
Connery nodded as Gerald turned and raced up the steps.
Behind him, Connery shouted a stream of orders to the footmen to fetch the doctor, retrieve the runaway horse, and take Dutch inside.
Gerald was greeted by his butler Wells and his housekeeper, Mrs. Evans.
“She has a severe head injury,” he said bolting up the staircase, leaving the capable duo to organize the maids and supplies needed to attend the injured woman. Rushing into the first empty bedchamber off the hallway he gently laid the young woman on the bed.
Gingerly he probed the back of her head and felt a huge bump. Blood oozed onto his fingers. Muttering a curse, he untied her cloak and eased it from her slender frame. Reaching for the dagger in his boot he tore a long strip from the bottom of the cloak, and tied it snuggly around her head, hoping it would staunch the bleeding.
Next, he lightly ran his hands along her legs and arms, carefully checking for breaks and swelling. He sighed with relief. No broken bones.
The young woman moaned and her eyes fluttered open.
He bent over her, and his breath hitched in his throat.
She had the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen.
“L…Lord Lawrence. I f…found you,” she whispered.
Complete and utter shock gripped him.
Could it be?
Her face creased in pain, and her eyelids fell closed as a moan escaped her.
Those eyes…
He’d only ever seen such striking eyes once before.
At the Adamson ball.
Pale blue, almost translucent, with a dark blue outer rim.
