her?"
Lucien nodded as he knelt beside Tempy. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. The fall must have knocked her unconscious.
"Oh, thank goodness," the woman repeated. "I was afraid she was here alone. My son is coming down the gangplank just now, and I can't linger, but since she has you, I don't need to worry." She turned away and hurried off.
Lucien looked back down at the young woman who was now in his care. He picked up her gloved hand and squeezed it. "Miss Bliss. Can you hear me?"
She breathed steadily, but her eyes didn't open. With a sigh, he scooped his arms under her back and knees as he prepared to lift her from the dock. As her skirts shifted, he noted a reticule that had been hiding under them. He eyed it for a moment and then picked it up as well. It was probably hers.
Lucien shifted the slim burden in his arms so that her head rested comfortably against his shoulder. He noted that her small black bonnet had a long hat pin securing it to her chestnut hair, so he didn't need to worry about having it blow away in this wind. He did, however, need to take care that he didn't get jabbed with the thing.
He wished he could see her eyes. He hadn't noticed their color yesterday, and now he wondered. Would they be brown? Green? He guessed green, as green eyes often accompanied hair that had a hit of red, as hers did.
She smelled of lavender. He'd always been partial to that sharp, clean floral scent. It reminded him of summertime and the lavender fields he'd tramped through in Somerset when he'd visited there as a boy.
People made way for them as Lucien carried Miss Bliss toward the road. He looked around, wondering if he should walk back to his carriage or hail one of the hansom cabs waiting to pick up passengers. The decision was simplified when he recognized the sharp whistle emitted by his coachman, Higgs.
The carriage pulled to a stop right in front of Lucien. Higgs jumped down from his perch and hurried to open the carriage door. "I saw you scoop her up, sir, so I came as fast as I could. Who is she? Is she badly injured?"
Lucien hadn't told any of his employees about his new title yet, so they hadn't started my lord-ing him. He'd need to decide how to handle that, now that he intended to accept the inheritance.
But that wasn't important right now. "She's an acquaintance, and I don't know how badly injured she is. All I know is that she fell and she's unconscious. I'll take her home and send for a doctor." A thought struck him. "Blazes. I don't know where she lives. I suppose I'll have to take her to Hamlin House."
With Higgs's assistance, Lucien settled Miss Bliss on the seat and squeezed in next to her. He cradled his arm around her small shoulders and tucked her head against his chest to keep her from being thrown around on the drive. Higgs shut the door with a snap, and then Lucien felt the carriage shift as the coachman climbed onto the driver's seat.
The carriage had been traveling for a while when Lucien heard a soft sigh. Miss Bliss's gloved hand, loose in her lap, shifted. She raised it and slid it across his chest. Her fingers opened like a little white starfish and rested there for a moment as she turned her face toward his. Her eyelashes fluttered, tickling his neck in a pleasant manner.
And then she froze.
The hand that had been resting so softly against his chest suddenly pushed against it, and she thrust herself toward the far side of the carriage seat. She winced as the back of her head bumped against the side of the carriage. She rubbed at the lump that must have developed there, and a look of comprehension came over her. She relaxed slightly.
Her gaze focused on Lucien and her brows furrowed. "Mr. Hamlin?"
"None other."
She glanced at her surroundings. "This is your carriage?"
He nodded.
She gingerly touched the back of her head again. "It seems that I own you my gratitude along with an apology."
"Apology? Why?"
She sat up straight and began checking her clothing,
Lucien nodded as he knelt beside Tempy. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. The fall must have knocked her unconscious.
"Oh, thank goodness," the woman repeated. "I was afraid she was here alone. My son is coming down the gangplank just now, and I can't linger, but since she has you, I don't need to worry." She turned away and hurried off.
Lucien looked back down at the young woman who was now in his care. He picked up her gloved hand and squeezed it. "Miss Bliss. Can you hear me?"
She breathed steadily, but her eyes didn't open. With a sigh, he scooped his arms under her back and knees as he prepared to lift her from the dock. As her skirts shifted, he noted a reticule that had been hiding under them. He eyed it for a moment and then picked it up as well. It was probably hers.
Lucien shifted the slim burden in his arms so that her head rested comfortably against his shoulder. He noted that her small black bonnet had a long hat pin securing it to her chestnut hair, so he didn't need to worry about having it blow away in this wind. He did, however, need to take care that he didn't get jabbed with the thing.
He wished he could see her eyes. He hadn't noticed their color yesterday, and now he wondered. Would they be brown? Green? He guessed green, as green eyes often accompanied hair that had a hit of red, as hers did.
She smelled of lavender. He'd always been partial to that sharp, clean floral scent. It reminded him of summertime and the lavender fields he'd tramped through in Somerset when he'd visited there as a boy.
People made way for them as Lucien carried Miss Bliss toward the road. He looked around, wondering if he should walk back to his carriage or hail one of the hansom cabs waiting to pick up passengers. The decision was simplified when he recognized the sharp whistle emitted by his coachman, Higgs.
The carriage pulled to a stop right in front of Lucien. Higgs jumped down from his perch and hurried to open the carriage door. "I saw you scoop her up, sir, so I came as fast as I could. Who is she? Is she badly injured?"
Lucien hadn't told any of his employees about his new title yet, so they hadn't started my lord-ing him. He'd need to decide how to handle that, now that he intended to accept the inheritance.
But that wasn't important right now. "She's an acquaintance, and I don't know how badly injured she is. All I know is that she fell and she's unconscious. I'll take her home and send for a doctor." A thought struck him. "Blazes. I don't know where she lives. I suppose I'll have to take her to Hamlin House."
With Higgs's assistance, Lucien settled Miss Bliss on the seat and squeezed in next to her. He cradled his arm around her small shoulders and tucked her head against his chest to keep her from being thrown around on the drive. Higgs shut the door with a snap, and then Lucien felt the carriage shift as the coachman climbed onto the driver's seat.
The carriage had been traveling for a while when Lucien heard a soft sigh. Miss Bliss's gloved hand, loose in her lap, shifted. She raised it and slid it across his chest. Her fingers opened like a little white starfish and rested there for a moment as she turned her face toward his. Her eyelashes fluttered, tickling his neck in a pleasant manner.
And then she froze.
The hand that had been resting so softly against his chest suddenly pushed against it, and she thrust herself toward the far side of the carriage seat. She winced as the back of her head bumped against the side of the carriage. She rubbed at the lump that must have developed there, and a look of comprehension came over her. She relaxed slightly.
Her gaze focused on Lucien and her brows furrowed. "Mr. Hamlin?"
"None other."
She glanced at her surroundings. "This is your carriage?"
He nodded.
She gingerly touched the back of her head again. "It seems that I own you my gratitude along with an apology."
"Apology? Why?"
She sat up straight and began checking her clothing,
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