Good Earls Don't Lie (17 page)

“You might gain a marriage offer,” her grandmother agreed, “but it will not be from a gentleman of the ton, Rose. It may be a long time before you can walk again, and you will lose out on your childbearing years. You must lower your expectations.”

She kept her gaze fixed upon Iain. “I never lower my expectations.” With that, she steadied herself and slowly stood up from the chair. The women’s conversation ceased abruptly, and they stared at her in amazement. Iain couldn’t help but smile. He knew she had stood with his assistance, during the rainstorm, but he hadn’t known she could stand on her own now. She must have been practicing every waking hour.

“You stood up!” her sister exclaimed. “When did this happen, Rose?”

She gave a slight smile. “I told you I would learn to walk again. And this is only the beginning. The next time I go to London, I intend to dance with Lord Burkham. Everyone will know they were wrong about my illness.”

Her grandmother’s eyes held a trace of wonder, and this time, there was a genuine smile. “What a lovely surprise. I am quite pleased for you, darling.” With a shrug, she added, “I suppose a fortnight will not matter. We may as well give you the chance to continue your healing. It may make a great difference in finding a man to wed.”

Rose eased herself back into the chair, and the relief on her face was evident. Even standing for such a brief period of time had exhausted her. But it was indeed a start.

Iain raised his teacup to her in a silent toast. Over the next fortnight, he hoped she would make further progress, until she could indeed walk again. Even if it was only a few steps, her grandmother was right. It would greatly improve her chances of finding the right husband.

Yet the idea of her returning to Burkham annoyed him. Rose deserved better than a man like him. Iain resolved that when they did go to London, he would ensure that she had every opportunity to find the husband of her dreams.

Even if it could never be him.

One week later

It was just after dawn, and her family was still sleeping. Rose stood beside her bed, holding herself balanced for several minutes. Each day, her legs were getting stronger.

Soon,
she told herself. Perhaps even today, she might take her first step. She smiled at the thought, and her gaze moved toward a vase of flowers by the window. Lord Ashton had sent her a new bouquet of roses, and she loved the heady aroma. They wouldn’t last long, but the flowers made her smile.

Hattie came to help her dress in her riding habit, and asked, “Am I to ride with you this morning, Lady Rose?”

“No, not today. Just ask Calvert to bring me to the stables.”

Her maid nodded, and Rose let her believe that Calvert would be her escort. The truth was, she wanted to be alone.

Her legs needed to be stronger, and she hadn’t forgotten Lord Ashton’s suggestion about swimming. Although it wasn’t possible to immerse her entire body without the risk of drowning, she would try sitting upon the bank and kicking her legs. It might help.

After she was dressed, Calvert carried her downstairs and outside toward the stables. He instructed the coachman, Nelson, to saddle her mare. He also ordered Nelson to prepare his own mount, but Rose stopped him. “I am going alone this morning. I will return by midmorning.”

“It’s not safe, Lady Rose,” he objected. “You must have an escort or a chaperone with you.”

Ordinarily, she would agree. But she wanted no one to see her dipping her feet into the lake, particularly Calvert. Even Hattie would balk at the idea.

“I do not intend to leave the grounds of Penford,” she lied. “If I have need of anyone, I’ll simply shout.” She had made up her mind to sit near the water and exercise her legs. She had deliberately not worn any stockings, and her riding boots hid her bare feet. No one need know about this and there was no danger.

Her footman hesitated. “So you intend to ride through the grounds? And that’s all?”

She nodded. “Of course. And I’ll return when I need assistance dismounting.” Truthfully, she was already able to get down on her own. It wasn’t so very hard to hold on to the saddle and slide down. Though she couldn’t take any steps, she planned to ride toward the shore and sit near the water’s edge, near the large boulder. She wasn’t entirely certain if she was strong enough to pull herself back onto the horse, but she guessed she could stand upon the tallest boulder and use that for help. At the very worst, she could always call out for help if she couldn’t manage on her own.

The voice of doubt edged her confidence, for there were many disasters that could happen. The moment she tried to get off the horse, any number of things might cause trouble. She ought to bring Hattie with her. That was the sensible move, she knew. And yet . . . she was tired of being reliant on others for help. She wanted a few moments to herself to see what she was truly capable of. Only then would she know if walking was even a possibility.

Her time was running out, for they were leaving for London in one week. Rose was determined to take at least a few steps on her own before that time.

“Lady Rose, I cannot say I approve of this,” her footman insisted.

But she held firm on her decision. “I do not require your permission to ride, Calvert. If I wish to go, I shall. Now help me onto my horse.”

His expression was disgruntled, but he obeyed. The moment she was secure upon her saddle, Rose nodded in farewell, and urged her mare across the estate. She lifted her face into the wind, reveling in the cool air while the morning sunlight creased the edges of the horizon with rose and gold. It felt so good to be on her own, as if the chains of her weakness had shattered.

It felt so wonderful to be in command, to guide the horse where she wanted to go. Being on horseback granted her a liberty she hadn’t known she needed.

Undoubtedly, the water would be frigid this morning, but since she had no intention of submerging her body, there was no harm in it. Her feet might be cold, but then, that would be her motivation to move them.

Rose chose a secluded part of the lake where several large boulders lined the water’s edge. Then she drew her mare to a stop beside the largest stone. The animal was well trained, and held steady as she gripped the saddle and let her legs slide down to a standing position.

For a moment, she clung to the saddle, fighting for her balance. Then she took one step and promptly lost her footing. She fell hard on her backside, but thankfully, she’d managed to land close enough to where she was wanting to sit.

Using her arms, Rose pulled herself onto one of the flat boulders and leaned her back against the largest one. There. She had made it this far. If she could get her boots off, she could dip her feet in the water and slide down a little until her knees were submerged.

As she struggled with her boots, she thought of what Lord Ashton would say if he saw her now. The man had been polite during the last week, and not once had he treated her any differently than a friend.

Which was as it should be. But she couldn’t deny the twinge of disappointment as she remembered that breathless kiss. Was that what it was meant to be like, kissing a husband? Never in her life had she experienced such a heart-pounding moment. She’d felt the kiss over every inch of her body, the tremors rising over her sensitive flesh. It was seductive, beckoning her closer. She shouldn’t have allowed it, but she’d been powerless to resist him.

It only proved the point that Lord Ashton was indeed a very dangerous man.

When her riding boots were off, she eased herself down until her toes were in the water. The icy water was numbing, and not at all comfortable. But in time, she adjusted to the cold and moved her ankles back and forth. It was a start.

Rose couldn’t see the bottom, but it wasn’t surprising. This part of the lake had a steep drop-off. Some of the children from the village liked to dive off the boulders into the pool.

She moved a little closer, until her calves were in the water. Again, she continued exercising her legs, kicking them in the lake. It took more effort than she’d imagined, but she persevered until exhaustion set in. She was beginning to understand why Lord Ashton had suggested it. This was an effective way to keep building up her strength.

When she decided that she’d had enough, she dried her legs and tugged her boots back on. Then she whistled for her mare.

The horse obediently trotted forward, and Rose reached for the reins. She was feeling good about what she’d accomplished, and spoke quietly to the mare as she stood up on the boulder. Her knees were shaking from her earlier exercise, but she held herself balanced as she reached for the saddle. All she had to do was get one foot in the stirrup, and she could pull herself up the rest of the way.

Rose struggled, using all her strength, but still couldn’t manage it. She tried to use one arm to lift her leg into the stirrup, but her balance faltered.

She tried again and finally managed to get one foot in. But when she tried to pull herself up, holding the reins, the horse perked up at a sudden sound. The mare jerked her head, and Rose lost her balance, tipping wildly.

“No, oh, no!” she cried out, before she fell backward off the boulder and her back hit the water. The frigid cold took her breath away, and the heavy riding habit and boots dragged her down. The icy lake submerged her, and she fought to stand up.

The water was deeper than she’d remembered, and it came over her head. When she tried to gasp for air, her mouth filled up with water. She could swim, but both the sodden wool and the heavy boots were weighing down her body. With a tremendous effort, she plowed her arms through the water, reaching for the boulder. She wanted to weep with relief, until she realized that she lacked the strength to pull her body out of the water. There was no true handhold, and even the embankment was steep.

This had truly been a horrible idea. Why had she ever believed she could go off riding alone? It had been nothing but foolish pride. And now, she was freezing, soaked to the skin, and clinging to a boulder for dear life.

She didn’t know whether to laugh, out of hysteria, or begin screaming. It should have been an easy matter to pull herself up, but her entire body was numb and impossible to move.

You could drown,
she told herself.
You could die if you cannot get out.

She filled her lungs with air and shouted out, “Help me!”

But there was only the sound of her mare grazing and trudging farther away from the water’s edge.

Rose shouted again, hoping that someone would hear her. Perhaps Calvert or even the coachman might hear her if she was loud enough. Her voice grew hoarse, and her fingers began slipping from the edge. With a tremendous lunge, she grasped the rock, tearing her fingernails in the process.

Once more, she called out, and when she heard the answering sounds of hoofbeats, she wanted to cry with relief. She hardly cared who it was, so long as they could pull her out of the lake—even if it was Calvert, come to chastise her for her folly.

But when the rider emerged from behind the trees, she saw Lord Ashton galloping hard toward the water.

“Hold on,
a chara,
” he told her. “Don’t let go.”

That wasn’t at all in her plans, but she could feel her fingers slipping. “Hurry, please. I can’t hold on to the rock for much longer.”

Within seconds, Lord Ashton reached down and lifted her soaked body out of the freezing lake and onto the boulder. The moment she was out, her teeth began chattering, and it felt as if knives were slicing her flesh into ribbons.

“I’m s-so c-cold.”

Immediately, Lord Ashton removed his coat and put it around her shoulders. “Here. Warm yourself while you tell me what happened.”

“I f-fell into the water. My mare moved back when I was t-trying to mount, and I lost my b-balance.” She shuddered, gripping his coat as if she could absorb his body heat from it.

“We had better get you home,” he said. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

She sent him a rueful smile. “I nearly did. I suppose I never should have taken your suggestion, trying to swim to strengthen my legs.”

“Not in a riding habit and boots.” He lifted her on top of her mare, but her boots were sagging from her feet. He tugged at the first riding boot and emptied water from it. When he glanced at her bare foot, he stopped and held it a moment. “What you did was dangerous.” His tone held traces of anger, even as his palm warmed her bare skin.

The gesture startled her, and she felt the gooseflesh rise over her calves and up her thighs. He continued holding her foot, and though she wanted to tug it free of his grasp, the heat of his skin was so very welcome. But she could not allow it. “Put my boot back on my foot, if you please.”

“What you did was foolish, and you could have drowned.”

“I wasn’t
trying
to swim. I thought I would put my feet in the water for a little while. It should have been safe enough.”

A flush of chagrin came over her at his quiet rebuke. But the gentle touch of his hand revealed concern that she hadn’t anticipated. He replaced her boot and then reached for the other one, emptying out the water. Again, he warmed the bottom of her foot, and warmth spiraled through her skin. “You should not have gone alone.”