“It’s over now.” He took off his coat and helped her into it. She pulled it closed over her breasts. It came to the top of her thighs, which was at least something.
“Stay here. I didn’t kill him, only hit him in the arm. Let me see what condition he’s in.”
The bullet had gone exactly where Rohan had aimed it, straight through the man’s upper arm. However, his head must have struck the tree when he fell. He was unconscious. Rohan took off the old felt hat and pulled down the man’s cravat. The man hadn’t wanted her to see him, which meant he hadn’t wanted to kill her. That was something. He studied the man’s face. He had never seen him before. “Well, hell,” Rohan said. He walked back to Susannah, who was standing exactly where he’d left her, staring at him, then at the man.
He untied her wrists. He walked back to the man and tied his wrists behind him. “Now,” he said, “let’s go home. Everyone has been searching for you, including my mother.”
He lifted her in his arms and with more grace than anyone could expect, he got them both on Gulliver’s back.
He guided his horse slowly through the twist of trees. He said, not looking down at her, for her white legs were quite bare and his right hand was touching the outside of her right thigh, “Tell me what happened.”
It helped to steady her. She spoke slowly, but shock was clouding her mind, and her head pounded, and he had difficulty understanding. But he was determined to keep her mind focused. He asked question after question until he thought he had learned everything.
He said finally, hugging her against him, “You did well, Susannah. I’m very proud of you.”
They came out of the maple forest. “Now, turn against me and hold on.”
She clutched him against her and felt Gulliver eat up the ground. The wind was cold on her bare legs. The air was cold on her bare belly. Oh, no. She tried to sit up, to somehow cover herself, but Rohan held her tightly.
When they came onto the wide, graveled drive and to the front of Mountvale Hall, there were, unfortunately, at least a dozen men milling about, servants, and several carriages, and doubtless within those carriages several of the neighboring wives.
Rohan cursed. He would go around to the stables, he would—
They’d been spotted. A yell went up.
He slowed Gulliver, looked down at her bare legs and belly, and quickly eased her up so he could fit his coat more closely around her. It didn’t work. He couldn’t take her to the steps. Every man there would see her.
He guided Gulliver off the drive, then lifted her off the horse’s back and set her on the ground. “Hold still.” He was stripping off his shirt even as he dismounted. “Here, put this on, my coat over it.”
She was weaving where she stood, shuddering. There was no hope for it. He put the shirt on her. Thankfully, it came to her knees. She was trembling so badly that he had to help her fasten the shirt over her breasts.
Beautiful breasts.
He put his coat on her over his shirt.
It wasn’t until he pulled Gulliver up before the deep, indented steps of Mountvale House that he realized he was naked to the waist.
There wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
Before anyone could speak, Rohan shouted, “I have found her! She is all right. I left the man unconscious in the maple forest near the abandoned shack. Ozzie Harker, you know where that shack is, the one where the gypsies used to camp. Go fetch him.”
They were all staring at him, staring at her, in his arms.
Suddenly Charlotte came running lightly down the steps. The men parted to make way. She called out, “Dearest, bring the poor child in immediately. Fitz, have the doctor fetched.” She then thanked all their dear friends. But their attention, for the first time ever, wasn’t completely focused on the exquisite Lady Mountvale. No, every man’s eyes were on Mrs. Carrington’s naked white legs. Every woman’s eyes were on the baron’s naked chest.
Still, he thought his mother’s word “child” was a good try.
Rohan cursed as he carried her through the open front doors. Fitz didn’t stare. He had too much dignity.
Then Rohan heard cheering. He blinked, not understanding, then realized that as a man with his reputation, he had doubtless just gained another considerable elevation to his status. He looked down at Susannah’s white legs, then into her face and saw the bruises on her cheek.
“He struck you?”
“Yes. It rather hurts.”
He cursed. He carried her up the stairs, two at a time, yelling over his shoulder, “Fitz, fetch the doctor, quickly. Don’t dawdle, man.”
Fitz turned to Charlotte even as he waved to Augustus. He said in a very worried voice, “It is normally very quiet when his lo