Page 7 of Almost a Countess

Both men bounded into action, hurryingtoward Gretchen. Dora carefully guided the limp man’s body over theside of the horse and into their waiting arms then swiftly unhookedhis leg from around the pommel, and he slid safely off the animalat last.

“Do you need help, MissHarper?” Alfred shot her a quizzical look, his eyes widening as hetook in her posture astride Gretchen. “What happened,miss?”

Hanson’s look was just as scandalized,although he was too well-bred to say anything.

“I shall be fine, Alfred.”At least, she believed she would be. Her legs had begun to tremble,however, from her unaccustomed position. “I found him in the creekat the edge of Hawkins’s field. Take him to Father’s rooms. Undresshim and put him in one of Father’s nightshirts. He has wounds I’llneed to tend to.” The men nodded and started into the house, Alfredholding the man’s feet while the butler grasped his shoulders.“Have a care when you take off his boots,” she called. “He’sinjured his left ankle.”

“Who is he, Miss Harper?”Hanson spoke for the first time.

Frowning, Dora told him the only thingshe could. “I’m not quite sure, but I intend to findout.”

“I’ll send Larkin to you,miss,” Hanson called as they disappeared into the house.

Frowning, Dora scooted into the saddleand thrust her left foot into the stirrup. Immediately, sherelaxed, heartened by the familiar feel of the seat beneath her.Slowly, she lifted her right leg over the horse, putting her in theusual position to dismount by sliding down the horse’s flank to theground.

Her legs, however, refused to workproperly. Her knees almost buckled when her boots hit the driveway,causing her to grab the stirrup and hang on. A new soreness in herthighs added to her discomfort.

“Miss Harper, are you allright?” Larkin, her lady’s maid, ran up to her. “Mr. Hanson saidyou’d need—” The girl stopped, her mouth dropping open as shestared at Dora’s split skirts. “Miss Harper, whathappened?”

“It’s a very long story,Larkin.” Swiftly, Dora pulled her skirt out of her waistband, andit fell into its proper place. “One I don’t have time to tell.”Dora took a step and winced. That awkward position had left a bitof soreness.

A nicker from Gretchen brought Dora upshort. What should she do about the horse? “Here.” She tied thereins to one of the boxwoods that lined the driveway. “Tell Alfredto come tend to her as soon as he’s done with the gentleman,Larkin, then run fetch me the medicine chest and some bandages andbring them to the viscount’s rooms. As quick as you can,please.”

“But I need to tend toyou, miss.” Larkin stared askance at her. “You’re drippingwet.”

“I’ll make do. Now runtell Alfred about Gretchen, and I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Larkin scurried up the frontstaircase, and Dora paused for a minute as a feeling of calm andnormalcy washed over her again. Suddenly, she was confident oncemore. Commander of her own household. Peeling off her ridinggloves, she strode toward the kitchen. First thingsfirst.

Mrs. McComber, Bromley’s ancient cook,stirred something in a kettle hung over the fire when Dora walkedin. “Good afternoon, Miss Harper.” The cook turned to her andstopped, taking in Dora’s disheveled appearance. After a slightpause, she continued. “Are you ready for your luncheon?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs.McComber.” Dora stopped and stared at the tray waiting on thetable. Food for one person only. That would have to change. “Yes,ma’am, but I fear I will need a substantial lunch for two hungrypeople.”

“Oh, you have a visitor,miss?” The cook’s brows shot up. Everyone knew no one paid Doracalls.

“Of a sort.” Dora reallydidn’t want to explain everything at this moment. “And I willrequire it to be served upstairs in the viscount’sapartments.”

The elderly woman gave Dora a sharplook but nodded and went back to stirring her pot. “Yes, miss. I’llsend Larkin up with it directly.”

“Send James, please, Mrs.McComber. Larkin will be assisting me with several other tasks. Andthank you.” Let the woman think what she would.

Dora stalked out and headed for thestairs. The clamminess of her riding habit had finally becomeunbearable. She couldn’t wait to be free of it and attired inclean, dry clothing once more. As the habit fastened in the front,she could remove it herself, although the wet garment would likelymake the task difficult. Putting on clean clothes would requireLarkin’s assistance, however.

With a sigh, Dora grasped the banisterand began to haul herself upward. She’d never lamented her lack ofservants here at Bromley as many times as she had today.

The wet garment did indeed cling toher arms as she tried to free herself from her bodice. Slowly, shepeeled it from her, shivering slightly when the fabric fell awayfrom her damp body and cool air wafted over her chemise. Shedropped the sodden mess of velvet on the floor, untied thedrawstring at her waist and let petticoat and skirt fall to herfeet then stepped away, now attired in only chemise and stockings.They were still clammy, too wet to wear. In moments, she was nakedand rummaging in her dressing closet when Larkin’s voice calledout, “Miss Harper? Where are you?”

“In here, Larkin.” Unableto decide, Dora finally snatched up a plain red gown. She’d not hadtime to have clothes made when she was exiled to Yorkshire, so allher dresses were rather old, but what they lacked in style, theymade up for in comfort. This red one was a favorite, fitting herbody well. “I’ll wear this.” She popped her head out of thedressing room and held the garment up for Larkin to see. “Help meget into it quickly, please.”

“That one, miss?” Larkin’snose wrinkled as she passed Dora then gathered the clothing intoher arms.

“I want to be comfortableif I have to nurse this man. It’s not as if I’m going to a ball orsome grand entertainment.” Dora signaled the maid to bring the gownand its underpinnings and strode back into the bedroom. “I need newstays, stockings, and a chemise. These are wet through.”

“Everything was wetthrough, miss. Did you fall into a creek?” The maid followed, armsfull.

“More or less.” Doraraised her arms, and Larkin slipped a clean, dry chemise over herhead. “I was trying to keep a man from drowning.”

“Who is he, miss?” As theytalked, Larkin had snugged the stays over Dora’s chemise and begunlacing it up.