Loving the Enemy

Chapter 11

"Betsey told me that Mama said it was you who'd informed her I was drunk." She held her hands in front of her, and he noticed her fingers twisting themselves. "I was wondering if you could tell me how I came to be..."

"Roaring drunk?" She nodded and he shrugged. He'd decided this morning that if she were to ask, he'd feign ignorance. "I'm afraid I'm unaware of the details. I happen to stumble upon you quite inebriated and in danger of falling down or tripping over something. So, I rescued you."

The word 'rescue' did strange things to her chest, but she didn't know why. "I see." She let out a breath. "Well then." There was an uncomfortable silence in which he felt the sound of their breathing was as loud as the cannons firing, and he missed the easy camaraderie he felt the last few days. It seemed after one forgotten kiss, they were back to stilted conversations. "You must be wanting the use of the library. I will just leave you to it then." She started forward but must have forgotten about the books lying around her for she banged her shin against one stack.

As the books fell, so did she, and she landed in an awkward heap with the scattered books beneath her.

A second before the accident happened, Philip knew what would happen. However, he was too late to warn her and as he moved towards her, he watched in horror as she fell down.

"Miss Kendall!" He knelt in front of her, wrapping his hand around her slender upper arm to help her sit upright. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head. "Here, let me help you."

Waving his offer away, she tried to stand but crumpled before she achieved her goal, letting out a small yelp. Her hand instinctively went to grip her right ankle and he realised she must have twisted it when she fell down.

"I think you may have hurt your ankle." He pushed the books away from her. Once she was in a comfortable position, he moved so he was in front of her injured ankle, his hands hovering over it. "May I?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. He wondered if she would refuse and he tried to formulate a plan to persuade her, but it turned out to be unnecessary for she nodded her head.

He cupped one hand under her ankle and lifted it slightly off the rug. "If anything I do causes you pain, you must tell me. Remaining silent will do you more harm." He looked directly into her eyes so that she would know he wasn't jesting. "Please."

"Yes, I will."

"I'm going to slowly rotate your ankle. If you feel even the slightest of twinges, stop me." As he spoke, he moved her foot, while looking at her face to deter any changes in her expressions. He could see that she was bracing herself for pain while staring at what he was doing.

Suddenly, her entire body tensed and she sucked in sharply. Immediately, he stopped what he was doing. "Does it hurt?"

She nodded. With his left hand still cupping her trim ankle, he moved his hand this way, squeezing gently. He felt the slight swell beneath the pads of his fingers at the same moment she gasped in pain.

Gently, he lowered her leg. "It does seem like you have a sprained ankle. I will get a footman to me bring the necessary items to ease the pain and remedy it."

"No! No," she continued in a softer tone. "I don't wish to impose on you. I'm perfectly fine. I can walk now." She attempted to prove her words right. Pushing herself up, she somehow managed a standing position, and smiled at him though he could see the grimace beneath. "You don't have to-" The rest of her sentence was cut off when she attempted to take a step forward on her bad ankle and she pitched forward.

He caught her in his arms, and frowned at her. "Miss Kendall, I must insist-" She looked up at him then and he was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. It was almost an embrace. He could see little lighter flecks scattered within the deep blue of her eyes, and every eyelash surrounding them.