In the Brief Eternal Silence Read Free Page B

can take care of it.” He crouched
down beside her, and as she was still struggling to try and get her
feet beneath her he placed both hands on her shoulders. “Stay
still, you little fool. I knew I should have yanked you down from
that damned horse as soon as I saw you were a female. If I had
known you also couldn't control your mount, I most certainly would
have.”
    “It was the mud puddle,” she said, the
freezing mud making her gasp. “I can control my mount.” But he had
turned his head, his hands still on her shoulders, to check to see
that Ryan had gone to the horse. Ryan had and Bertie as well and
only her father was coming the last few panting strides over to the
infield and them.
    “Is she to be all right?” Lizzie asked.
    “I don't know, but I will find out for you in
a moment. Forgive me if I'm more inclined to be worried about her
wretched rider for the moment.”
    “I'm surprised,” Lizzie, still gasping, was
stung into retorting, “that you are not more concerned about your
wretched headache.”
    “This has certainly not done it any good.
Now, are you hurt?”
    “I'm not sure. All this mud is freezing and I
can not tell if I am hurt or only suffering from the cold. Oh,
please do tell them to be careful with her. I am sure they are only
frightening her more.”
    “Try moving your arms. Pain? No? Your legs.
Yes? Where?”
    “My knee. I may have twisted it, I
think.”
    “This one?” and he moved his hand to her
right knee.
    She flushed, was thankful for the mud on her
face that hid it. “Yes. But really, I'm sure that if you can just
give me a hand up that I shall be quite fine—”
    “Please, milord, I must ask you to unhand my
daughter,” the Squire broke in as he arrived next to them.
    St. James turned with a raised brow. “But,
sir, this could not possibly be your daughter, for she has gone
visiting, you know.”
    “Be that as it may,” the Squire continued
with a darkening expression, “I know who ye are and I'll not stand
for any of your shenanigans with any of mine.”
    “Indeed?” St. James said. “My reputation
precedes me, I surmise.”
    “Father?” Lizzie faltered.
    “Never you mind, Lizzie, love. Are you able
to get up?”
    “Yes, of course. I only need a moment, as I
was saying. . . It's just all this blasted mud.”
    “Miss Murdock,” St. James said, “as I now
gather is your name, if you deem your father a reasonable
substitute, I shall go and see about your horse.”
    “Yes. Indeed. Thank you,” she answered.
    He arose and her father stooped to take his
place and Lizzie watched as St. James strode to where Ryan and
Bertie had managed to calm her horse. He moved lithely and his
voice was compelling and yet he was slender and did not seem
powerfully built.
    “Who is he, father?” she asked.
    But he did not answer her question, only
said, “I'd not have him here at all if it were not business.” He
gave her a glance. “Stay away from him, Lizzie.”
    She gave a short laugh. “I'm sure you have no
worry upon that head. It is only the mud covering me that made me
palatable in the least for if he saw me as I really am, he would
have saved his concern for the horse.”
    “Aye. Well I daresay his tastes be a little
more exotic. All the same, Liz. . . But here,” he added before she
could interrupt, “try to get to your feet now, if you feel able.”
And he held out his arm to her.
    Lizzie took it and between the two of them,
they got her standing. “Let's get you to the house, lass, before
you freeze.”
    “Leaf, first,” she said.
    He sighed, but moved them in the direction of
the horse. Ryan was still at her head and Bertie seemed to be
heatedly protesting St. James' suggestion that he help with
removing the boards. “Nonsense,” Lizzie heard him saying. “I'm sure
there are grooms who will be out momentarily to help. I can't see
mucking about in all this mud.”
    “Save your vanity, Bertie,” St. James
responded. “There is no one here to see you,