Allison Lane by A Bird in Hand Read Free Book Online Page A

circumstances were good enough that he could not refuse.  She couldn’t gauge his wealth from his purse – a traveler would naturally carry money – but his boots were better made than any Fosdale or her brother wore, and they fit perfectly.  His jacket was ruined, but the fabric had been tightly woven with a smooth finish.  Even his shirt was softer than any linen she had encountered in her four-and-twenty years.  He was a gentleman, and a chivalrous one at that.  He must have seen her fall and jumped in after her, which made him more than chivalrous.  It would take a most unusual man to risk his life for a stranger.  But such a one would demand marriage.
    She swore.
    Much as she appreciated his help, he deserved more than being tied to an independent bluestocking who could never make him happy.  She owed him her life, for without his help she would never have stayed afloat long enough to escape the river.  But the best way to repay his kindness was to leave.
    She nodded.  As soon as her clothing dried, she would walk to the village.  Sadie was probably visiting Mrs. Harper.  The two were close friends, and Sadie often stayed over if poor weather made walking home difficult.
    Sadie could tend this man.  Her age and status would make it unexceptionable.  When he woke, he would assume that Sadie had cared for both of them.  The subject of marriage would never enter his mind.
    It would work.  She would walk to Ravenswood and claim to have been thrown when Aster shied at a falling tree.  She needn’t worry that the horse would arrive home first.  Even if he survived the flood, he would remain on the other side of the river.  He refused to cross bridges without a very firm hand on the reins.
    But it was doubtful that anyone would question her.  Despite the loss of her cloak, the storm would explain the state of her clothing.  And nobody much cared what she did anyway.
    Rising, she turned the clothes, then sighed.  The heavy wool would take at least two hours to dry enough that she could stand donning it.  In the meantime, she could only pray that the rain would cease.  Sadie did not have an extra cloak she could borrow, and the air was growing colder.
    She added peat to the fire, then set her mind to imagining how a scene like this might play out in a novel.  It was an exercise she often used to pass the time without appearing bored, like when the vicar’s wife called. 
    But this time, it failed her.  The exertions of the day had left her wearier than she thought.  Within five minutes, she was asleep.
    * * * *
    A moan awakened her.  When she realized that dawn light peeped through the east window, she swore and jumped to her feet.  A wave of dizziness nearly knocked her down.  Her muscles protested further movement.  Every joint was stiff, reminding her of yesterday’s exertions.  Pain exploded through her shoulder where rocks and debris had left their marks.
    First things first, she decided grimly, refueling the fire.  Her habit was dry, so she could change clothes.  And she could still carry out her plan if she hurried.  Even if Sadie didn’t return before he awoke, he would have no way to identify her.  He could not have seen her clearly.
    She was separating her apparel from his when his eyes opened.
    He grimaced.
    “Are you in pain?” she asked, then mentally kicked herself for the stupidity of the question.  If she was stiff and sore, he had to be worse.
    He merely blinked, as if the words made little sense.
    She checked his forehead for fever, sliding her hand beneath the bandage.  Thankfully, it was cool.  “What is your name, sir?”
    His mouth moved twice before sound emerged.  “Randolph.”
    “Don’t try to move, Mr. Randolph,” she warned as he started to turn.  “You need to rest that shoulder.”
    “Who—”
    “Who am I?” she interrupted.  “Anne.” 
    “Anne,” he repeated, closing his eyes. 
    She sighed in relief.  He was certainly well enough