Innocence (7 page)

“You girl. Bring that tray over here.”
 

Looking up, Lisa sighted Eleanor mounted on a large chestnut in the midst of a group of riders beckoning her near. Hesitating, she glanced over to Mr Henson who’d taken note of her cautious approach, but he occupied.
 

It was one thing to be mounted on her own horse amidst a crowd of restless steeds, another to be on foot bearing a heavily laden tray and without a groom for escort or ready assistance.

“Stop your dawdling,” Eleanor called, her tone leaving Lisa no choice but to obey.

Swallowing hard, she took a hesitant step in the imperious lady’s direction, then another. Surrounded on all sides by huge beasts, her heart pounded in her chest. A movement to her side caught her attention, and she glanced up, startled to see Nathaniel moving quickly through the crowd towards her.
 

Relieved, she took a step in his direction, but then Eleanor called again. Her tone brooked no argument, and Lisa reluctantly continued towards her. Having almost reached her destination, she began to breathe a little easier. But then one of the horses nipped at his neighbour, and the startled animal reared up on his hind legs. Swinging around, the beast’s hindquarters knocked the tray from her hands, sending pastries flying and the heavy silver tray clattering to the ground.
 

Lisa’s heart caught in her throat as she was jostled by the panicked horses, their riders struggling to maintain control. Despite trying to keep her footing, a blow sent her crashing to the ground, her head hitting the cobblestones with an awful crack. Stunned by the blow, everything went black.
 

When her eyes fluttered open, large, metal-shod hooves were striking the pavement inches from where Lisa lay. Whimpering in terror, she covered her head with her arms and rolled into a ball, the horse’s hooves missing her body by mere inches and the vagaries of chance. Just when she thought her luck was all used up, and she would surely be trampled, strong hands grabbed her around the waist and carried her to safety.

“It’s all right. You’re safe now. Open your eyes, Lisa,
please
.”

At the sound of Nathaniel’s velvet voice, she obeyed.
 

“You,” she whispered, echoing his words from the breakfast room.
 

“Thank God I reached you in time,” he said, holding her close.

Despite the terrible fright she had received, Lisa felt safe with the warmth of his large body wrapped protectively around her. Then a stab of pain caught her attention. Wincing, she lifted her hand to the side of her head to find it wet . . .
sticky
. Puzzled, she brought her fingers before her eyes and saw they were covered with blood. Her vision blurred, and Nathaniel gave her shoulders a gentle shake.

“Lisa! Lisa look at me.”
 

“I’m bleeding,” she informed him somewhat petulantly.
 

“That’s because you’ve got a cut on your head, but I don’t think it’s too bad.” He ran his hands up and down her arms to stop her shivering. “Let’s get you inside.”

Lifting her once more, he tucked her head beneath his chin.

“Marsden, what do you think you’re doing?” Eleanor’s strident tone cut through the noise of the milling crowd. “Leave her to one of the servants. You’ll get blood on your jacket.”

Lisa cringed away from her harsh words and barely controlled mount, hiding her face against Nathaniel’s shoulder.
 

“Eleanor, if you’ve any idea what’s best for you, you’ll shut your mouth this instant.”

Eleanor’s gasp could be heard over the murmurs of those ladies, gentlemen, and servants close enough to hear Nathaniel’s harsh rebuke.

“How dare you speak to me in such a manner?” she said.

“How dare
you
put an innocent servant in harm’s way out of spite!”
 

Lisa flinched at Nathaniel’s shout but couldn’t resist a glance to see Eleanor’s ashen expression.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, looking around her. “The girl’s a servant. I merely asked to be
served
some pastries.”

“Could you not see she was carrying a heavy tray? You should have waited for a footman, not put a young maid in danger.”

Lord Cahill approached, manoeuvring his horse through the crowd. “Good God, man, you’re bleeding. What happened?”

“Why don’t you ask your
wife
?”
 

Lord Cahill looked worriedly to where Eleanor sat upon her horse, conspicuously isolated from the crowd.

“We’ll talk later,” Nathaniel said, modifying his tone. “I need you to lead the hunt. I’ll catch up with you when I can.”

His cousin nodded, and Nathaniel turned and strode towards the house with Lisa in his arms. After laying her on a long couch in one of the ornate sitting rooms, he let out a groan and gripped his leg. It was then she saw his breeches were torn all down his right thigh, blood trickling from a nasty-looking graze.

“I’m so sorry.” She attempted sit up but was forced back against the cushioned couch by her throbbing head and the suddenly spinning room.

“It’s nothing.” He knelt beside her despite his injury. “I’ve had far worse riding to hunt. It’s
you
I’m worried about. I have to go, I’m afraid,” he added with obvious reluctance. “But I’m leaving you in good hands.”

 
Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Lisa raised a hand to where he gently cupped her cheek. He gripped her fingers briefly, then stood and turned to face the waiting staff.
 

“Henson, fetch Mrs Donaldson to care for Lisa and Dr. Caruthers if she deems it necessary. I’d best go change if I’m to catch up with the hunt.”

“As you wish.” Mr Henson nodded before adding, “Are you sure you shouldn’t wait to see Dr. Caruthers yourself, my lord, and have him look at your leg?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “Jenkins can wrap it. Better to keep moving than let it seize.” Pausing at the door, he looked back to where Lisa lay.

“Make sure she’s well cared for. I’ll check in later today.”

“Very well, my lord.”
 

Nathaniel left the room, and the butler turned to her with a sigh. “You’ve had an eventful morning, young lass. Let’s get you to the servants’ quarters before you get any more blood on his Grace’s nice brocade.”

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of fussing and gentle scolding, though all agreed it was easier said than done to ignore a direct order from the likes of Lady Cahill, even when the order was blatantly inappropriate.

Fortunately the cut on her head was not deep, but the bump that accompanied it gave Lisa a sizable headache. Once she was cleaned up and bandaged by the competent Mrs Harrison, one of the cooks who had a knack with herbal tonics, Mrs Donaldson insisted Lisa rest on a narrow cot in a room that led off the kitchen.
 

“Where I can keep an eye on you,” she explained.

Lisa slept fitfully the rest of the day, happy to keep a cool cloth over her eyes and even willingly sipping the bitter-tasting brew Mrs Harrison prepared to ease her aching head. To her frustration, she slept through Nathaniel’s visit when he came to check on her after the hunt. When she finally awoke, Ruth was sitting in a chair beside her.

“Lord Marsden’s orders, as he didn’t want you left alone,” she explained, her tone awed. “I ’eard he just about stripped the ’ide off Lady Cahill for ’er folly.
Then
he told Lord Cahill if he didn’t pull his wife into line, he’d do it for ’im!”

“Truly?” Lisa sat up, relieved when the room remained stationary.
 

“Aye, ’onest to goodness.” Ruth nodded and rubbed Lisa’s cold hands between her much warmer ones. “I just ’ope it means Lady Cahill will leave ye alone now. I can’t imagine she’ll be wanting another tongue-lashing, especially not in front of some of the most important toffs in the country.”

“No, I can’t imagine she will,” Lisa murmured. While relieved beyond measure Nathaniel had come to her assistance, she was apprehensive on several levels. She was supposed to be keeping hidden,
not
drawing attention to herself or doing anything that might alert Lord Copeland to her whereabouts. As for Eleanor, while Lisa hoped Ruth’s assessment was correct, even her limited experience warned her a woman scorned—and embarrassed—was not one to take lightly.

As per Nathaniel’s very specific instructions, Mrs Donaldson made sure Lisa was well taken care of while she recovered from her injury. But nothing could protect her from the pointed looks and murmured comments of the rest of the staff. Nathaniel coming to her aid in such a dramatic manner was considered quite remarkable, even by the servants of Worthington Hall. They’d become accustomed to being treated with a greater degree of respect than was typical for those of their station, courtesy of the Duke’s enlightened attitude. But his son had gone about Lisa’s rescue with no concern for his personal safety, engendering scrutiny. While a polite inquiry regarding her health would not have been unexpected, his checking on her in person was far from the normal response of a lord to a servant being injured.

“I’m not surprised Lord Marsden went so far out of ’is way on yer behalf,” Ruth said a few days after the hunt.

“Oh, why is that?”

“Because he’s taken a right fancy to ye. I told ye he liked ye that day at breakfast.”

“And it’s a bloody good thing, too,” Sally grumbled. “Otherwise ye’d ’ave been trampled underneath all those ’orses, and Mrs Donaldson would be lookin’ for a new maid.”

Lisa was beginning to believe the girl would never forgive her for attracting the attention of both her chosen beau and a lord on whom she’d set her sights. Although what Sally hoped to achieve by gaining Nathaniel’s interest was beyond Lisa.
 

It
was
a good thing he had cared enough to rescue her, or her plan to avenge her father’s murder and reenter society would have been short-lived. Lisa wished she could tell him her story. He seemed a true gentleman in all regards, but she dare not take the risk. Lord Copeland had most likely had himself named her legal guardian. In the unlikely event Nathaniel believed Lisa’s version of events over that of a peer, he would nevertheless be honour bound to hand her over to the authorities. Lord Copeland’s threats had not been empty, Lisa’s word worth almost nothing against those of a baron, no matter how despicable.
 

A shiver ran through her at the thought of being placed in the evil man’s—she
refused
to name him a gentleman—less than tender care. Lisa’s only hope was to remain hidden until the Duke returned, his elevated station and authority the one thing standing between her and an unwelcome marriage to the man who had killed her father . . . or worse.

Chapter 7

The Library

“Miss Brown, you’re to clean the library this morning.”
 

Lisa’s breath hitched at the housekeepers’ directive.

A library.

Books.

It had only been a few weeks since she’d left her home, but oh, how Lisa missed her books. Attempting to picture the library at Worthington, she refused to allow her thoughts to take her back to the cosy sitting room at Barlow Manor. Her grief, when it surfaced, was overwhelming, and she didn’t want it to spoil this unexpected opportunity.

“Owen can show you the way,” the housekeeper added, putting a dampener on Lisa’s enthusiasm.

The footman had been hovering, as usual, and took the bucket of cleaning products from Lisa’s hands. She went to protest, but Mrs Donaldson gestured for them to move on.

“So, where’s your lovely smile?” Owen asked once they were alone in one of the vast corridors.
 

Lisa ducked her head down, loath to encourage him.

“Not in the mood for talking?” He nudged her on the shoulder, taking her stumble as an excuse to put an arm around her shoulder and pull her close to his side.

“Don’t do that.” She pushed him away.

“Just trying to ’elp.” He feigned surprise at her reaction.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking unaided,” Lisa said crossly before tempering her tone, wary of making another enemy. “But thank you for assisting me.”

“Yer very welcome.”