Page 71 of An Unfamiliar Duke

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Mr. Tucker hurried to join his wife. The other men were winding up coils of rope and tossing them into the back of the Finley Park cart. Dawson was already on the cart bench, his wounded leg extended and his mount tied to the back of the cart.

Mr. Grayson approached, leading his horse and Sebastian’s.

“It appears that Belle took refuge under the trees on the other side of the pasture,” he said. “I’ll fetch her for you, Your Grace.”

“Lead her back to the stable instead, would you, Grayson?” Sebastian said. “My wife will ride with me.”

Mr. Grayson inclined his head. “Of course, Your Grace. And may I say that Her Grace has my utmost admiration for what she did out there.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Th-thank you, M-Mr. Grayson,” Rosalind said. “H-have you heard anything of M-Mary Beckett and her b-baby?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Mrs. Beckett delivered a healthy baby boy not more than twenty minutes ago.”

Relief flowed through Rosalind, and with it came exhaustion. Her grateful smile was fleeting, and Sebastian seemed to sense that she had reached the end of her endurance.

“Come,” he said. “I am sure we will learn more of the new baby soon enough. For now, it is time to go home.”

Chapter 28

The distance between the Becketts’ cottage and Finley Park had never seemed so long. The rain continued to fall, the wind buffeting them from every side. Sebastian’s mount lowered its head against the inclement weather and crested the final rise. At last, the shadowy form of his large house came into view. A single light shone to mark the entrance rather than the customary two lanterns, but it was enough to know that they were close.

Sebastian was missing his hat. He had lost it somewhere on the bridge. Water dripped off his hair, running down his neck in icy rivulets. His fingers were stiff with cold. But tonight, no discomfort could offset his overwhelming feeling of gratitude. After so close a call with tragedy, Mrs. Tucker had been reunited with her husband, and now he held Rosalind safely in his arms.

As though sensing that his warm stable was near, Tempest pushed forward with more urgency. Rosalind stirred. Her violent shivering had lessened since Sebastian had lifted her onto his horse at the bridge, but he kept a firm hold on her.

“We are almost there,” he said.

“I m-must apologize to Vickers.”

“Whatever for?”

“I d-did not return the l-lantern.”

Given all that Rosalind had gone through over the last few hours—and the miserable conditions she was currently enduring—a forgotten lantern was quite possibly the most nonsensical and inconsequential thing she could worry about.

“That would explain the missing light at the door,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “P-poor Vickers. The lack of s-symmetry is likely completely upending him.”

Sebastian laughed. He could not help himself.

The wind blew the sound away, but she must have felt his chest shake because she turned her head toward him. “Are you l-laughing at me?”

“Marveling at you, I should say,” he said, drawing her closer. “Simply marveling.” He reined Tempest to a stop in front of the portico, and by the time he had dismounted, Vickers was nearly down the stairs to meet them. Sebastian lifted Rosalind out of the saddle, scooping her into his arms and turning to face the butler. “Would you have someone see to my mount, Vickers?” he asked. “He’ll need a good rubdown after having been out in this terrible weather for so long.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The butler offered Rosalind a concerned look but asked no questions, and Sebastian started up the stairs.

“There is n-no need for you to c-carry me, Sebastian. I c-can walk.” Rosalind’s stuttered speech belied her assertion. It was long past time for her to be out of her wet clothing.

“I came far too close to losing you out there,” he said. He would say no more of the terror he had experienced while she’d been on the deck of the rickety bridge. It was too recent and still too real. “If you don’t mind, I should like to hold on to you a little longer.”

To his relief, she relaxed against him, her head on his chest. “Truth b-be told, I d-do not mind at all.”