Page 5 of A Lady by Chance

“O-o-oh, Jessica.” Lucy, her younger sister, knelt beside her. “What have you done?”

“I fell.” Jessica scrunched her good eye to meet Lucy’s gaze. “I will be fine.”

“Poor lamb.” Olivia pressed a gentle kiss to her head. “You are hurt.”

“Nothing is broken,” Jessica said.

“I will decide that, lassie.” Doctor Belch set his black physician’s carry-all on the table in front of her as Lucy rose, then he carefully lowered himself to his knees to examine her. After a few moments of fierce scowling, running his hands over her arms and legs, and probing her ribs and midsection, he looked up at the duke. “She was most fortunate, Your Grace. Her bones indeed appear unharmed, though she requires bedrest, and I’d ask for your kitchen servants to fetch ice from your icehouse. We shall need it for her eye and forehead once she’s been settled abovestairs.”

“Sally…” The duke glanced at the maid who hovered nearby. “See Doctor Belch’s orders done,” he said, and the girl again dashed from the room. Turning back to the doctor and Jessica, he frowned. “Can she be moved?”

“Aye,” Doctor Belch agreed as he peered at Jessica’s forehead and swollen eye. “She needs to be handled with care. Can you trust one of your stable lads to lift her and—”

“I can carry her.” Sir Stirling stepped forward, resplendent in a finely-cut dark blue morning coat, fawn breeches, and—naturally—highly polished, entirely unmuddied boots.

Jessica looked up at him, refusing to appear impressed. Or nice. Did the man walk on air? Was that why his clothes never carried a speck of road dirt?

“I can walk.” She pushed aside the doctor’s hand and stood. The library tilted, the floor dipping beneath her so that she bumped into Olivia.

“You are not taking a single step.” Olivia grabbed her arm, holding her in place as she glanced at him.

The Marriage Maker.

“Take her now, Sir Stirling,” Olivia said. “And do not let her offend you.”

Sir Stirling reached her side in a flash, seemingly crossing the few feet between them without having moved. Did he fly as well as walk above Inverness’s ever-muddy ground? Jessica thinned her lips.

He winked at Jessica. “Such a fine lass could never offend me.”

“I am not a ‘fine lass,’” she whispered in the Marriage Maker’s ear as he lifted her. “I am a hoyden. Even Papa says so. Be warned.”

He smiled down at her and just as quietly said, “You shall soon be a wife, wild ways or no.”

“I will not.” She squirmed in his arms as he followed her father and sisters, and smelly old Doctor Belch, from the library. “No man will want me. Can you not tell that already?”

“Perhaps there is a man who needs you,” he said gently.

She stiffened. “You mean my father’s money and our lineage.”

“Nae, lass, you.” He flashed another irritating smile. “The man I have chosen for you might be just the husband you require.”

“I require to be left alone.” For emphasis, she kicked his thigh as he began mounting the stairs to her bedchamber.

To her annoyance, he didn’t break stride. Worse, he chuckled.

Once they reached her room and he settled her on her bed, he had the impertinence to remain in the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the jamb, as Doctor Belch gave her one final examination and then dutifully placed a bag of crushed ice over her eye and forehead.

Could the man not simply leave? No gentleman would linger as he seemed determined to do. Even she knew that much.

“Sir Stirling…” Jessica lifted her voice. “Are you not needed elsewhere?”

“Jessica!” Lucy and Olivia spoke as one.

Chastity ducked her head to hide a smile.

“He is here to—” Lucy began.

“I know why he is here.” Jessica sat up, the sudden movement making the room spin and sending the ice bag onto the floor. “He has brought me a husband—an ogre I do not want and will not marry.”