Then he realised who it was when he saw the red hair. His heart stumbled.
Oh, God. She was here. And he felt like he had been caught doing something bad.
Chapter 9
Dorothy had been hoping to get some sleep, but she couldn’t. Her chest was really hurting now, and it felt very delicate, even after the salve. Lying on her stomach didn’t seem to help after a while; it seemed that when her breasts were squashed, they pressed on her injury.
She would be very surprised if she didn’t have a bruise in the morning. Hopefully, what Frederica had planned to adjust her gowns would cover it up. If not, they were going to have to think of something else. And tell Lady Derbyshire.
God, it would be embarrassing to tell her hostess she had been hit with a ladder. Dorothy wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
If only her injuries would let her sleep. Instead, it just made her feel even more sore. Dorothy had been trying to sleep for some time, but no sleep was coming anymore. She had tried to read, but the words wouldn’t string together properly. After a while, she had given up.
Maybe putting the book back in the library was a good idea. Dorothy didn’t want to look at it and be reminded of what happened to her to get it.
Look at me, getting resentful over a book.
After getting out of bed and lighting some candles, Dorothy headed downstairs. The large book under her arm made her a little uneven, and the candles were wobbling about in their holders. Dorothy really hoped that none of them fell out and ended up causing damage or even a fire. The thought of being turned into flames because a candle lit up her gown made her slightly panic.
Trying not to think about how she could end up in more trouble than she already was and eyeing the candles to the point she nearly fell down the stairs, Dorothy finally got to the foyer. The servants would have gone to bed by now, and everywhere was in darkness. She was used to the silence and the dark, but there was something somewhat eerie about it when it was in a place that wasn’t her home. It was rather … frightening.
Dorothy almost turned and bolted back up the stairs, but she shook herself.
“Get a hold of yourself,” she muttered. “It’s the same as at home. It’s just a dark house. You’re not in danger.”
Padding through the house, the tiles cold under her feet, Dorothy reached the library door. It took a bit of juggling the candlestick and the book to get the door open, but she managed. There was a table right by the door, so she put the book down with a sigh of relief. Now she could go back to bed and try to sleep. Maybe she would claim that she wasn’t too well and sleep in. It was her holiday, after all.
It was going to be a while before she fell asleep, anyway.
Dorothy wasn’t aware of someone being in the room with her until she looked up and saw a shadow moving across the room. She screamed and almost dropped the candlestick.
“It’s alright, Dorothy, it’s me!”
Dorothy heard the voice, and then the shadow hurried closer, moving past the burning fireplace. It took a moment for her to recognise who it was.
“Lord Dashwood?”
“Don’t worry; I’m not a burglar.” Dashwood took the candlestick from her and moved it away. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I … you …” Dorothy started to press a hand against her racing heart, only to flinch when she brushed over her chest. “Ouch!”
“What happened?”
“N-nothing.” Dorothy swallowed. “I’m fine.”
Dashwood didn’t look convinced. He was watching her with a frown, and Dorothy resisted the urge to squirm. There was something intense about how he looked at her, and he wasn’t even flirting with her.
It was then she remembered that she was wearing just a nightgown and nothing underneath. There was just a scrap of fabric between her and Dashwood. Why didn’t she put on a robe before she came downstairs?
Because you didn’t think you would end up bumping into your ex-fiance in the dark.
“What are you doing down here, Dorothy?” Dashwood asked. “Could you not sleep?”
Dorothy thought about lying but decided against it. She wasn’t that good at it, anyway.
“No, not really. I thought I’d return this as well.” She gestured at the book. “I might have taken something a little too much for me. I must have looked a fool taking it into the drawing room with the other guests.”
Dashwood’s mouth twitched.