Page 13 of Border Lord’s Bride

He sank to his knees beside her. "Don't move," he panted, unable to catch his breath. "Lie still. I need to check your wounds." He turned her head slightly. "There's a small gash at your temple. Does your head pain you?"

"I'm dizzy and I feel foolish, but other than that I'm well."

"Let me make certain." He felt over her arms and legs as he had to his brother Templars who'd fallen in battle.

She shifted to her side and reached out to gently grip his hand. She squeezed once before she released him. "Truly, it is just my head."

"Then let's get you back to the manor." At the sound of her weak voice, emotion tightened his chest. She would be all right. She had to be.

He placed his hand at the back of her neck. "I'm going to roll you over. Let me do the work," he urged as he eased her out of the snow to face him. "You're going to be fine." He gathered snow in his palm and gently applied it to the edge of her forehead. She flinched at the cold a moment before she leaned into his touch. "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It was my fault for allowing myself to be distracted by the girls. None of us saw you coming."

He allowed himself a slight smile. "Blame it on the Templars. We were trained to walk silently when approaching the enemy."

Her gaze met his. "Am I the enemy?"

"Nay, Elizabeth. No longer. Let us put that past behind us. Shall we?"

She tried to sit up.

"Rest a moment," he protested, but she ignored him and sat anyway. Lucius leaned back on his haunches and signaled to the girls above that Elizabeth was well.

"I need to get back to the girls." She struggled to stand.

"Let me help you," he said as he stood, then scooped her into his arms.

"I can walk," she protested.

"I insist." He pulled her closer and his body heat warmed her.

She made no further comment as he carried her back up the hillside to the girls. Once they reached the top, the girls gathered around her.

"Are you hurt?" Camellia asked, her gaze straying to the blood at the side of Elizabeth's head.

"She'll be well once we take her home," Lucius said. "Let's get you all out of the snow."

"But she's bleeding," Lily said with a lisp as she captured Elizabeth's hand in her own smaller one.

"It's nothing serious, my sweet," she said, with a gentle smile.

"Two of you grab the basket of greens and let's go." Lucius tightened his hold on Elizabeth. The girls hurried ahead of them, leaving the two of them alone.

"Why were you at my father's house?" she asked in a voice no more than a whisper. "Were you trying to talk him out of our betrothal?" She stared at him, her eyes filled with a fragile sadness he had never seen there before.

"Your father wasn't home. Farnsworth informed me he's in Edinburgh."

He saw a shimmer of tears glaze her eyes before she turned her face into his chest.

Oh, Lord… Her father was gambling again. Lucius felt almost sick to his stomach at the thought. Elizabeth's father had dumped his daughter in the most inhumane way imaginable, then scurried back to the obsession that would ultimately destroy him. For Lucius had seen for himself the Huntingdon estate had nothing else of value left within it.

"I'll tell you what my father would have said had he been at home. He would say that I am no longer his worry. What happens to me will be of my own choosing."

"And your choice is to be with us?"

She bit her lip and looked past him at the girls, who had reached the rear door of the manor. "I had hoped my kiss last night said it all, but aye, I want to be here with you and your sisters."

He was too stunned by her revelation to respond. Was it his own dreadful assumptions that had set them all on this course? If he'd stayed and confronted Elizabeth or even Marcus, would both his brothers still be alive today?