Page 20 of It's a British Christmas

“Not until the doctor has seen you.” He settled her in his arms.

“You are being ridiculous. I know I’m not injured.”

His lips tightened. “You are my responsibility. You will see the doctor.”

“I am not your responsibility. Furthermore, I know if I can walk or not.” She raised her voice.

“As long as you reside under my roof, you will abide by my wishes.”

“You mean orders. You, sir, are an impossible man.”

“I agree.”

The footman opened the door at their approach, his eyebrows raised at Penrose carrying Merry, with both of them snarling at each other.

“I’m taking Miss Chambers to her room. Please send for the doctor, she’s had a spill from her horse.”

Merry crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not need a doctor.”

“Nevertheless, he will be sent for.” He started up the stairs.

“I protest.”

“Excellent. You may protest in bed while you wait for the doctor.”

“You may not carry me into my bedroom.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Says who?”

Merry lowered her voice. “Miss Jennings.”

“She is the governess. I, on the other hand, am the duke.”

As they reached the top of the stairs, his mother came from her sitting room. “What in heaven’s name is going on? My poor ears have been tortured with bickering from all the way outside.”

“Miss Chambers took a fall from her horse. I’m taking her to her room while we wait for the doctor.”

“Oh my goodness. Is she badly hurt?” The duchess hurried behind them.

“I’m not hurt at all,” Merry called over his shoulder. “But His Grace is too stubborn to listen to me.”

As his mother stepped in front of them to open the door, she covered her mouth with her hand, looking suspiciously as if she tried to hold back a laugh.

“The doctor will determine if you are injured or not,” Penrose growled. He swung past the duchess and strode to Merry’s bed where he deposited her gently.

“Dear, you must leave us now.” His mother looked from him to Merry.

“Fine. Stay with her Mother, and make sure she doesn’t move until the doctor sees her.”

She smirked. “Yes, dear.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” Merry called to Penrose’s retreating back. He slammed her door.

Much to Merry’s disgust, and even though he’d found no injuries, the doctor ordered her to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Nonsense. She felt fine and had been thrown from a horse more than once. There was no doubt in her mid that Penrose ‘encouraged’ the doctor to say that. Everyone, it seemed bowed down to that man’s wishes.

That arrogant, stubborn man who insisted on sending for the doctor annoyed her to no end. Why she ever thought him attractive remained a mystery.

Shortly after noontime, Kitty entered the chamber, followed by a young maid carrying a tray containing soup and bread. “I brought you the lovely soup Cook fixed for luncheon.”