Page 8 of The Beastly Duke's Christmas Bride
“Oh. Must be a blade,” he said.
The lady looked up at him in dismay, her lips parted. She would have looked pretty if she didn’t look so ill. Dark hair framed her face. It would have been put up earlier, but he rather liked it now. But she looked horrified.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I…” Her breathing picked up and she grabbed at his collar. “I never…” Then she fell.
“Blast!” Sebastian caught her just in the time. She had fainted. The blade was in the side of his forearm, fortunately pinned in a place that didn’t hamper his picking up of the lady. Huffing, he fixed his grip on her and turned.
Just in time for the carriage to slow down, revealing four people inside with faces of awe. The wheels never stopped. But Sebastian felt his heartbeat do just that, and he wondered if there was any hope they didn’t know of the beautiful lady or the beastly duke.
CHAPTER 3
It was all a cold and bleary sort of mess.
Isabel had been forced awake after her fainting to tell the stranger where she lived, clutching her reticule with all her might. She remembered that and she remembered fumbling at the front door, refusing to let him touch her key.
Everything beyond that was blurry and uncomfortable.
I would much rather pretend it hadn’t happened.
In fact, it would make much more sense that nothing had happened after that moment. But it couldn’t be helped. Obviously, the man had been confused when no one answered the door and why it was so cold.
“I was so frightened when I saw him the next morning,” Amber had breathed with wide eyes while recounting the story. “He had bundled you up tight in half the blankets in the house beforea roaring fire. When he couldn’t find more coal, he told me he broke a chair with his own hands! And he used his own cravat to stave off the bleeding of his injury.”
“That doesn’t explain why I am here,” Isabel had pointed out. She’d woken in her bed, bundled and warm, with the hope that last night had all been a dream.
Her maid beamed. “He carried you! He didn’t want to touch you again without someone else present. Wasn’t that polite of him? And he’s called a physician for you.”
That jolted Isabel up. “What! How dare he. We cannot afford one. No, Amber, that cannot happen.”
“Oh, he said he would take care of it.” Amber paused, flushing. “No one else had woken up yet. He didn’t see anyone else. I told him we were simply forgetful, that we hadn’t made some purchases. After I gave him some tea, he promised to tend to some matters for us. A delivery of fish and coal.”
Isabel’s jaw dropped. “Alongside a physician? No, we cannot.”
“He said it would be done. I don’t know how we stop him. Should I search him out?”
Falling back down in the bed––and under the covers where there was still an ounce of warmth––Isabel sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I… Perhaps. Did he give you his name?”
“No.” Amber hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. “He was about to, I think, but then said he didn’t have any cards on him. I said he could return on the morrow so you could thank him properly. I thought you might appreciate that. But he said he was busy and wasn’t certain if it could happen.”
“Good. I don’t want to thank him,” Isabel admitted.
“But didn’t he save your life?”
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Because Amber was right, the mad had indeed saved her life. He had fought off the other villains and she was certain his presence had kept her safe after retrieving her reticule. Yes, he had saved her life.
It’s awfully embarrassing being saved.
It smarted at her pride, and that was one of the last things she still had besides the house, the few servants, and her housekey. And it particularly was embarrassing that after the entire incident last night, she had fainted.
I’ve never ever fainted before.
“Are you unwell?”Amber asked, leaning forward on the creaking bed.
“Yes. No, I mean no. I’m not unwell.” Isabel forced herself to open her eyes and smile. “Thank you for everything, Amber. I’mglad it was you who saw him this morning and no one else. Can you please keep this between us?”
Her maid eagerly nodded. “Certainly. I won’t say a word. We’ll put it all behind us.”
Hopefully they would. That was Isabel’s goal as she grudgingly climbed out of bed for a spot of weak tea and stale toast. She dressed, wearing two layers of stockings, and started to move about the house.
