The Lady's Disgrace by Callie Hutton

holding Abigail to his chest. He signaled to the drive to start up, and they continued on their way. He shifted Abigail and removed a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently, he started to clear away the stones from her cheeks.
    Now that his heart had return to its normal rhythm, he wanted to throttle her. Beyond her scraped face, the way she winced when he shifted her told him she apparently suffered some type of injury. “I will send for the physician when we arrive home.”
    Abigail sighed. “I don’t need a physician, I’m just a bit scratched up.”
    He glared at her and continued his ministrations until the carriage pulled up in front of his home. As soon as the footman had the door opened, he climbed out still clutching Abigail and headed toward the door that was immediately opened by his housekeeper, Mrs. O’Neill.
    She grasped her throat, her eyes wide. “My goodness. Who have we here, Mr. Fox?”
    “Who we have here, Mrs. O’Neill, is my wife.”
    “Your wife? I thought you were going to London to find donors for your school.”
    “Er, I got a bit sidetracked. It is a long story. But right now my wife has been injured in a fall, and I would like you to send for a physician.”
    “I don’t need a physician.” Abigail shifted in Joseph’s arms and turned to the woman. “I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. O’Neill. I am Lady Abigail Fox, and am I to assume you are the housekeeper?”
    Mrs. O’Neill bobbed a curtsey, her demeanor quickly changing to one of awe. “Yes, my lady. I see your lovely face is all scraped up. Please let me send for a physician.”
    “She also seems to have hurt her . . . well, other places.” He mumbled this last bit, his cheeks heating.
    …
    Abigail fumed at the position Joseph had put her into. Here she was, the lady of the house, meeting the housekeeper for the first time, being carried into her new home like an invalid. She turned to ask once again to be put down and winced at the pain in her hip. When she’d been knocked to the ground by the pig, she’d twisted her body to keep from landing on the little girl. In doing so, she’d went down hard on her hip, then her head had slammed into the ground, whacking her cheek.
    She’d only gotten a quick look at the outside of Joseph’s house. Well, actually, her house as well. A stone structure, with a slated roof, it was much larger than she’d expected. Given the amount of windows, there must be more than twenty bed chambers.
    Joseph hurried up the stairs, striding down the hall to a room at the very end of the corridor. Mrs. O’Neill quickly opened the door and they entered.
    The room was very masculine, with no frills or feminine touches. A large poster bed in the middle of the room was made up in a dark green counterpane. Matching drapes hung on the generous windows. Everything was neat and tidy. Abigail breathed deeply, and the familiar scent of sandalwood, leather, and Joseph drifted to her nostrils.
    Joseph laid her gently on the bed. “Mrs. O’Neill, would you be so good as to assist Lady Abigail out of her clothes and into a nightgown? I will see about having the physician come and take a look at her.”
    Abigail was mortified. What a horrible beginning to her introduction to Joseph’s home and staff.
    “I will be happy to help you, my lady.” Mrs. O’Neill shooed Joseph toward the door. “Hurry and see about the doctor for your lady, and I’ll have her all cleaned up and in bed before you return.”
    “I really don’t need to be in bed. Aside from a few scratches I feel fine.” Abigail winced again as she attempted to stand.
    “Is that right?” Joseph glared at her. “You may have broken something, and you will stay in bed until you have been examined.” He strode from the room, then turned as he gripped the latch. “Mrs. O’Neill, you have my permission to tie my wife to the bed in order to keep her there.”
    “Oh!” Abigail gritted her teeth. Her upbringing refused to allow her to show any more