If You Were Mine by Rebecca King Page A

his housekeeper, and what appeared
to be the entire house staff behind them.
    “ Get someone to see to my horse. Shut the door quickly and
lock it Manvers,” Dominic ordered heading straight toward the
master suite. “Do not open that door to anybody, unless I am
informed first, do you understand?” He didn’t wait for Manvers’
assent.
    “ Mrs Holcombe, please I need your assistance,” he shouted,
disappearing down the corridor leading to his own suite of rooms.
“Bring some hot water and warm food quickly!” He was vaguely aware
of the stunned silence behind him for several moments, before the
house burst into a flurry of activity.
    As he
strode through the upper hallway, he never paused to consider
placing her in one of the opulent guest rooms, instead heading
directly towards his own suite of rooms in the rear of the
house.
    She was his, and he was going to keep her as close to him as
possible. Etiquette could go to
hell. He didn’t care if she was ruined by
simply being alone with him. She was his, and now he had her, only
death could snatch her away from him, and that was something he
wasn’t about to let happen without a fight.
    He
carefully placed her in the middle of his bed, cursing at how small
and fragile she looked against the brocade cover. Where the hell
had she been? Having endured the living hell of the battlefields,
he had become far too familiar with human misery, and the terrible
destruction, man could inflict upon man. However, nothing could
have prepared him for the severity of her plight. From the
appearance of her, it was evident she had quite clearly nearly
starved to death, and was wearing inadequate clothing to keep her
alive throughout summer, let alone the long, harsh winter months to
come.
    Fighting
down the burning tide of anger, Dominic shook off his jacket and
boots, thankful that Manvers had already lit the fire to ward off
the evening chill. Within minutes, Dominic had it roaring heartily
in the grate, suffusing the room in welcome warmth.
    He was
in the process of removing Isobel’s sodden outer clothing when Mrs
Holcombe and two maids appeared in the doorway.
    “ My stars,” Mrs Holcombe muttered, gazing at the half starved,
slightly wild creature the master had just brought home. Barking
quick instructions to the maids beside her, Mrs Holcombe moved
toward the bed and began to help remove sodden clothing.
    “ Cook is bringing some broth in a few minutes my Lord,” Mrs
Holcombe informed him, somewhat aghast. “If you want to leave her
with us now, we’ll see to her. We can move her to the
room-.”
    “ No!” Dominic winced inwardly at the almost shout, but offered
no apology as the women immediately froze and stared at him. “She
is to stay here with me. Just get her out of these wet clothes and
warm her up. The doctor is on his way, but we cannot wait for him
to arrive. She must be warmed up and quickly.”
    He
watched in satisfaction as the import of his words sank in, and the
women immediately moved to assist him.
    “ Please Sir, leave her with us. I can promise you she will be
safe. You must get yourself warm and dry as well,” Mrs Holcombe
replied fervently, wishing he would leave them to deal with their
unusual charge, such was the unconventionality of their situation.
“You’ll be no good to her if you catch a chill
yourself.”
    It
became apparent after several attempts to untie the laces of her
shirt that he was more of a hindrance than a help.
    “ Sir!”
    The
shock of finding Isobel was beginning to wane and Dominic
eventually became aware of the disapproving censure of the women in
the room when he was about to release the tight bindings covering
her breasts. Realising he needed to preserve Isobel’s dignity,
Dominic nodded in weary defeat and with one last searching look at
her, reluctantly turned toward the door.
    Two
hours later, his plate of food barely touched on the desk behind
him, Dominic stood before the hearth, staring down at the