Page 37 of A Damsel for the Wounded Earl
“Arthur!” Lucy’s face loomed into view. “Get up, Arthur. We must get you home at once, and into clean, dry clothes. You must be freezing.”
“I am,” he responded, teeth chattering on cue. “Is Miranda well?”
“Hard to say,” Lucy said, offering her arm to help him get up. “I think she’s fainted. It was ridiculous, going out by herself in the boat. What was she thinking? Surely there wassomegentleman who could have taken her.”
Arthur pulled himself into a sitting position, boots squelching. He could see the boats flocking back to the pier, their occupants scrambling out and hurrying towards them, keen not to miss a thing.
His mother was over by Miranda, of course, holding her limp white hand and patting it.
“A doctor has been called for,” she was saying. “She will be in shock, the poor darling. She must go to our house, I think. It’s the closest, and we have plenty of spare rooms. Her family must be informed, of course.”
Miranda’s long eyelashes fluttered, and she glanced around at her audience.
“How did it happen?” somebody said, and Arthur spotted Lord Thornhill appeared, crouching beside her. “How did it happen?” he repeated. “Was there something wrong with your boat, Miss Sinclair? Did you hit something? It’s important that we know, so that this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”
Miranda blinked harder, a shadow crossing her face.
“I… I cannot remember,” she said tearfully. “Oh, I feel so ill. I’m sure I’m going to faint again.”
“Leave her be, Daniel!” Mrs. Thornhill said, tugging on her nephew’s sleeve. “Now is not the time to harangue her with questions.”
People were patting Arthur’s shoulder, giving him admiring, approving glances.
“Well done,” they murmured, and “Quite heroic, lad. She’d have drowned if it weren’t for you.”
He gave up trying to reply to them all, and only smiled weakly in response. It was clear that he’d gone up in the estimation of the locals.
“Come on, Arthur,” Lucy repeated. “You’re shivering fit to burst. Time to go home, you poor wretch.”
Arthur allowed himself to be bullied onto his feet and away from the crowd, not without many more murmured compliments and resounding back-slaps. They hadn’t brought a carriage, since it really was just a short walk from their home to the lake, so he was obliged to lean heavily on Lucy’s arm.
“You were very brave,” Lucy said, in a low voice. “The lake can be treacherous, and you dived in without a second thought. And to saveMiranda Sinclair,no less.”
He had to chuckle at that. “Why, what should I have done? Let her drown?”
Twisting around, Arthur got a last look at the crowd, circled around the still-swooning Miranda, who managed to look beautiful even with pond-weed in her hair.
At the back of the crowd, he saw Felicity Thornhill, having quietly moored her boat and climbed ashore, standing by herself. He lifted a weak hand to wave at her, but in an instant, Lord Vincent was at her side, and she didn’t see him. He let his arm drop.
***
Once he was bathed, dried, and buttoned up into clean and dry clothes, Arthur descended from his room, feeling much better. It had been pleasant to rise above it all, enjoying a little peace and quiet. As he descended, he could hear the murmur of conversation coming from the parlour, where no doubt plenty of picnic-goers had accepted an invitation to return to Lanwood House and continue the gossip.
He'd intended to slip quietly into the room, but naturally that wasn’t to be. Lord Vincent, sprawled in an armchair in the corner, noticed him immediately.
“Aha, here’s the man of the hour!” he drawled lazily, lifting up his hands in greeting. “Our heroic Lord Lanwood!”
To Arthur’s mortification, a round of applause broke out, and he was obliged to stand there and smile weakly. There was no sign of Felicity, he noticed, and his heart sank, just a little.
A group of matrons and older ladies surrounded Beatrice, who bounced up as soon as she saw her son, darting over to him.
“How are you, Arthur?” she asked anxiously. “I was so worried about you. We had no idea anything was happening until we heard the shouts, and you can imagine what I felt, looking over and seeing you in the water. You were very heroic, you know.”
He smiled tightly. “I did nothing that anyone else would not have done. Really, Mother, I’d rather not talk about it.”
It was clear that Beatrice had something else to say. She shifted from foot to foot, glancing nervously around.
“Step out into the hall,” she said quietly. “Just for a moment.”
