Page 68 of Her Duke By Accident
“Lady Lucy might have suffered more harm if Her Grace hadn’t responded the way she did. Who knows what could have triggered the horse more, a wailing girl on the ground or a wailing and worried guardian?” Mr. Porter shrugged, removing his circular glasses to wipe off a smudge.
“Nevertheless, there was never a need to worry. The duchess carried Lady Lucy across the estate, from what I heard.”
“Carried her? That’s impossible!”
Footsteps came up behind them.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mr. Livingston said from over Matthew’s shoulder. He swiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. “I saw it with my own eyes. A woman’s unbridled strength is what saved Lady Lucy.”
Mr. Porter nodded. “Her Grace sent for me the moment it happened while carrying the young lady to safety.”
Matthew shook his head. “I–I?—”
“I’ve never known you to be a loss for words, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford mused with a smirk.
“Perhaps in another life, Her Grace practiced medicine like me,” Mr. Porter smiled to himself before he gave Matthew a deep bow. “I will return to see how the young lady’s bruising and sprain heals. Your housekeeper has been given a schedule for treatment if there is any pain. Your sister will be well with a few days of bed rest.”
“Thank you, Mr. Porter.”
The physician tipped his hat at Ms. Crawford and Mr. Livingston before tucking his case beneath his arm, and leaving the estate. Matthew remained there, in the hall, staring at the opened door.
“Lady Lucy is expecting you, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford said, gesturing towards the bedroom.
Matthew pressed his lips together and slowly waded into the room.
A soft light came from the windows, the setting sun providing a reddish ambience within the bedroom.
Lucy looked small against the pillows propped beneath her head and left arm. Bandages were wrapped around her wrist, and bruises received cool towels along her legs. She had a few scratches here and there, and a nasty cut that blistered on the bottom of her chin. Other than that, Lucy appeared normal, watching the birds fly over the estate. Miss Ayles sat near the window, her eyes closed.
As Matthew left the threshold, he turned, and saw Alicia slumped on a plush chair beside the door. The duchess held her head up with one hand, eyes shut, and rosy lips parted. She slept soundly, her cheeks flushed from exhaustion. Matthew let his eyes trail over her, taking in every detail of the slumbering duchess. Her lips widened as if to say something, but she only breathed deeper.
Matthew lost himself for a moment, lost where he was and what he was doing. He could only watch the beautiful lady lying there, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed, and her arms fidget as her sleep grew deeper. He reached for a curl that strayed from her pins, fighting the urge to push it out her face.
“Brother!”
Matthew jumped, snapping his hand down to his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alicia jolt awake till she sat upright in her chair. She stood to greet him, giving him a small curtsey.
“I’m sorry to have sent for you in such a rush, Your Grace,” Alicia said with a scratchy voice.
Matthew glanced at her disheveled hair and gave a small smile. “No apologies necessary.” He took a few steps before kneeling beside Lucy’s bed. “How are you, Lu?”
“Well, brother.”
Now that he was so close, Matthew eyed the bruises and cuts. Nausea crawled into his stomach. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”
“What for?” she asked with a frown.
“That I wasn’t here.”
“Don’t be silly, Matthew!” Lucy exclaimed. “I played too much on Periwinkle, that’s all.”
Matthew swallowed at the name. “You rode my mother’s horse,” he said.
“She is a good steed, Matthew. It was my fault.”
“No one is to blame,” he said sternly. “All that matters is that you will be better after a few days in bed.”
Lucy groaned. “Days?”
