“Of course you are. Stop mocking me.”
“Well, I’m not. Mocking you, that is. As it so happens, I am his twin, Rafael Carstairs. Now, who the devil are you?”
“His twin?”’ She stared at him fully now. She knew that Damien had a twin, she’d even seen a portrait of him as a young boy. But he’d never shown his face at Drago Hall since she’d arrived there five years before.
“Yes, his twin. I gather my brother wanted you and you were trying to escape him.”
Victoria drew a deep, steadying breath. “Yes. Then you came along. I thought you were Damien. You look just like him.”
“Looks, as well as people, can be deceiving. Now, who the devil are you?”
“I’m Victoria Abermarle, Elaine’s cousin. I’ve lived at Drago Hall for five years now.”
Rafael grinned down at her. He dropped to his knees and thrust out his hand. Tentatively she took it. “Hello, Victoria. I have this awful feeling that I’ve just dropped into a bloody mess. However, one thing at a time. Will you come with me? We’ll see to your ankle. You sprained it, did you not?”
She shook her head. “No, I shall be fine. I don’t think it wise for me to accompany you, sir.”
“No choice, sorry. I can’t very well leave you, and you can’t walk an inch. Do you have a horse somewhere?”
She shook her head. “No. The mail stage stopped some ten miles back. I wanted to keep going. I was afraid.”
“Of Damien?”
“Yes. He tried—”
“I understand.” And indeed Rafael did understand. His damned brother hadn’t changed. In fact, it appeared that he’d grown a good deal worse. His wife’s cousin.
Without any more hesitation he grasped her under the arms and pulled her up. She didn’t struggle. But once on her feet, he saw the pain on her face. He simply stood there holding her up.
“I’m sorry, truly. It’s just that—”
“I can manage.” He swung her up in his arms.
“My valise,” she said. “I can’t leave it.”
He sighed, held her close, and leaned down. “Have you every damned piece of clothing you own in here?” he asked as he heaved it under one arm.
“Yes.”
“And iron-handled hairbrushes as well?”
She smiled, her first smile in many a long hour.
He walked carefully through the undergrowth to where his horse was tethered. “We have a problem. I also have a valise. Well, I shall have to call on all my ingenuity, won’t I?”
He lifted her up onto the saddle. “Can you hang on?”
“Yes, of course.”
He grinned at the insulted snap of her voice. “Here, take your valise.”
It took a few more minutes of concentration and then he swung up behind her. “Swing your leg over.”
It was her bad leg. She tried, and gasped as the muscles screamed in protest.
“Very well, I’ll hang on to you. We’ll go very slowly.” He added, “I’ll fetch you a doctor in Axmouth.”
“No!”