He turned and began walking across the field. Elizabeth knew the house was straight ahead: through the field, down a small hill, across the stream, and up through the woods. Easy-peasey. The pain had subsided, and she knew it was best to get moving. She stood up slowly.
“Ow! Shit!” She bent over.
Elizabeth felt him before she heard his voice. With one arm supporting her, he lifted her chin to see her face.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
Elizabeth met his eyes and grimaced. “I torqued a muscle in my ankle. Old injury.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I can walk.”
“Lean on me. I’ll take you back to the house.”
“But…”
He pointed at the hot-pink case. “You don’t have another option unless you have a cane in that kit.” She saw his smirk but missed the gentleness in his teasing.
“I left my shillelagh at home,” she muttered. “If you can find me a stick to lean on, I’ll be okay.”
“No, we’re doing fine this way. You all right?”
Elizabeth felt the evening chill settling in around them and the start of a cold drizzle. She was suddenly grateful that he was with her. “Yeah, I’m fine. We can go faster.”
She could feel the pill start to take effect, and the pain and stiffness lessened as they moved across the field. He grasped her a little more tightly as they walked down the hill.
“Hey, cowboy, don’t squeeze too tight.”
“Cowboy? So you’re both a college football fananda country music aficionado?” He shook his head. “You are such an American.”
“Excuse me, Oxford. Nothing wrong with a little Johnny Cash. But I’d rather listen to Bach and stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah, stuff. Bands you’ve probably never heard. You seem like a jazz guy or maybe a Wagner man.”
“Do I?” It was too dark and they were moving too quickly for her to see the expression of amused disbelief on his face.
“Kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit…” she sang. “Oh mighty warrior of great fighting stock…”
A booming crack of thunder filled the late afternoon sky.
Darcy picked her up. “I think you’re delirious with pain. We need to hurry.”
“Put me down,” she cried, wriggling out of his arms and landing with a thud. “Ow! Dammit!” She stared up at him accusingly.
He reached for her arm. “Fine, lean on me. Please. We need to get you inside.”
Elizabeth leaned heavily on his arm and they hurried across the lawn. Rain started pouring moments after they reached the house. Darcy sat her on the huge sofa in the family room and knelt in front of her. “May I?” He lifted her foot and began untying her boot.
“Oh. Um, no I can do it.” She jerked her foot away. Darcy went to light the logs that had been laid in the fireplace while she wrestled off her boots and damp sweater.
With the fire started, Darcy removed his jacket and looked at her. “May I get you something for the pain? Ice? Pills?”
“Um, yes. Both, please. Well, no. I took pills. A pill.” Elizabeth shivered, and he immediately pulled a thick afghan off another sofa anddraped it across her shoulders. Then he went to the liquor cabinet and poured them each a small glass of brandy.
“Here, this will warm you up. I can make some tea.”
Elizabeth recoiled from the smell but quickly drank it down. “Oh, wow,” she exclaimed. “My Uncle Leo smells just like that tastes.”
Darcy nodded. “Why don’t you lie down and elevate your foot?” He grabbed a pillow and looked at her expectantly.
