Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(36)



“Arm.” He raised it an inch or so and let it drop.

Georgina gently pushed up his shirtsleeve and found a great bruise already forming on his bicep.

“It’s not broken,” Sebastian said. “I can move it.” He flexed his arm. “Ow.”

“Do not move it,” she commanded.

“We’re a pair,” he said. “With your leg and my arm, I don’t see how we’ll ever get out of this hole.”

“My leg is better. You will rest, and then we will try.”

On the third morning, they did so. After the painful process of working Georgina’s boot over her injured leg, Sebastian held her with his good arm and helped her navigate the treacherous, muddy floor of the ravine. The crash of the deadfall had left an opening just large enough to duck through, which they did with great care so as not to dislodge the pile any further.

Progress was agonizingly slow through the thick growth. After a while, Sebastian moved ahead to force an opening in the vines and branches. Georgina then limped through behind him. They had to spend a further night below ground level, very uncomfortable with no fire possible and no inclination to lie down in the mud.

It was afternoon when they at last came to a place where they could struggle out of the gully. Sebastian half carried, half supported Georgina up a lesser slope, stopping every few feet to untangle the brambles that caught at her skirts.

At last they emerged, exhausted, in a woods where huge trees blocked the light. There was much less undergrowth, and it was comparatively easy to walk away from the crevice that had imprisoned them for so long. “Do you recognize this place?” Sebastian asked.

Georgina shook her head. “It just looks like a forest.” She sank down to sit on the ground. “We’re covered with mud,” she observed. She would not cry, she told herself fiercely. It was just that she was so sore and tired. And dirty. And thirsty. Very thirsty. And hungry. All joy had gone out of this venture during the last day of forcing herself through wet, prickly, unyielding vegetation. Her leg ached. So did her head. She saw that Sebastian was examining her anxiously, and tried to give him a smile. It was another challenge not to complain.

“I’ll find the way,” he said. He walked back toward the gully and checked the angle of the sunlight piercing the leaf canopy. Holding up his good arm, he sighted along it. “I think the gully runs northwest. There were some twists and turns, but that seems to be the general direction.”

“I expect we’re in Wales then. The waterfall is near the border.”

He nodded. “Since there’s no one about, I think the best thing is to walk back along it. We follow the ravine to where we went in, where they’ll be searching for us. There may be people closer, but we can’t know.”

“Right.” Georgina struggled back to her feet. She took a step and suppressed a wince. Her leg was better, but it still hurt when she put weight on it. Well, at least the pain distracted her from her grimy clothes, stinging scratches, and dry mouth.

“I’ll carry you.”

“No, you won’t. It’s much too far. I can walk.”

“Georgina.”

“I can walk if you help me,” she amended.

And so they started out, with Sebastian’s uninjured arm once more around her waist, taking most of her weight, keeping the declivity that marked the ravine on their right.

They couldn’t go very fast. On top of their hurts, riding boots were not comfortable for long hikes. And it soon became hard to see just where the gully was. The ground leveled, and the undergrowth thickened until they could scarcely see beyond the next tree. When another evening began to close in, they were still surrounded by woods. And lost.

“It has to be Wales,” Georgina said. “There’s not so much forest anywhere else around Stane.”

“We’ll head east then, tomorrow.” Sebastian had just returned from looking for the ravine, and had been unable to locate it in the failing light. It had veered away from them at some unknown point under cover of vegetation. “I’ll make a fire.”

“Can’t you gather wild plants and snare a rabbit and make a savory hunter’s stew?” Georgina asked, only half teasing. She was hungry enough to eat almost anything. They’d found a stream on their trek and gotten a drink, but the relief of water had merely sharpened her appetite.

“I was reared as a hunter, not a poacher,” Sebastian responded with a short laugh. “I might be able to set a snare if I had some string or wire, but I’ve never caught any game that way. If we had a gun…”

“I shall take one whenever I ride out from now on,” she declared.

Sebastian built a fire. He found a trickle of a spring that gave them another much-needed drink. They settled back against the trunk of a huge oak and watched the flames leap.

“My parents must be frantic,” Georgina said. “They will have sent the whole household out to search for us.” She wondered what Hilda had told them. Her sister would have had some wild story ready, but it wouldn’t have held up this long.

“Sykes will be out looking, too,” said Sebastian. “My valet,” he explained when Georgina looked puzzled. “And up to anything.” As was Georgina, he thought. How many women would have endured this slog across country without complaining or turning shrewish? She was a marvel. And she looked exhausted. He really had to get her home. He frowned. “I still don’t see why we weren’t found right away.” They had wondered over this repeatedly. “It’s all very odd.”

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