How to Marry a Duke (A Cinderella Society 2)

Not only was she halfway up a house, but he was currently halfway off a horse.

“Dougal!”

Meg had not known before that moment that she could shriek in quite that pitch or throw herself down a ladder quite so quickly.

She ran down the path, Charlie at her heels. The horse shook his head as though he was confused, then lowered his head to nibble on the grass next to the heap that was Dougal. Fear lit a fuse along her spine. Had he cracked his head open on a rock? Broken both his legs? His back?

He groaned. Her breath hitched.

And then he cursed to make any storybook pirate proud. Or scandalized.

Really, she’d never heard such words, or in such an order.

It was poetry. Pure poetry.

Charlie stopped running, hand to her chest. “Oh, thank God. He’s all right.” She panted for air. “He’d never invoke the devil’s balls if he was really hurt.”

Meg fancied she already knew that.

And what a thing to know about a person.

Dougal sat up, disheveled and cross. “Bleedin’ bloody donkey’s—Meg! What are you doing here?”

“Learning new words, I wager,” Charlie replied, helping her brother up. “You’re a right mess.”

“I reckon I could tell you exactly how many ribs I have and where they are. I think one of them may have wrapped itself around my left kidney.” He stretched his neck and groaned. “Can you bruise your arse?”

Meg couldn’t help herself. She hurried forward, ran her hands over his arms, picked a burr off his collar. “You might have been seriously injured!” In truth, he could have been killed. She didn’t say it. But the knowledge of it ran ragged through her, like a rusty wheel.

“No wonder the stablemaster winces every time he sees me.” He brushed at the grass and mud on his coat. Meg plucked grass out of his hair. She looked so worried, he smiled at her. “Nothing’s broken but my pride. And possibly my arse.”

“Next time land on your head,” Charlie said drily, though there was a tremble to her voice that she fought to hide. “You’re not using it anyway.”

“You have me confused with Colin.”

“Oh, right.”

They grinned fondly at each other.

Dougal’s horse lipped his shoulder companionably. “See you’re still here,” Dougal said mildly. The horse replied with a snort. “Couldn’t agree more.” Meg picked up the dangling reins and handed them to him. “I think I’ll walk home,” he said. “Safer all around.”

“We’ll join you,” Charlie said. “Someone has to look after you.”

“I once had to fetch you from inside a well.”

“I was rescuing a baby badger!” She turned to Meg. “Someone had tossed it into the bucket for sport.”

Meg narrowed her eyes. “Another reason to carry a hatpin on you.” They exchanged bloodthirsty nods.

“Speaking of which,” Dougal looked down at Meg. “Are you after starting a new fashion?”

She followed his gaze, then flushed. She pulled the hat pins free hastily.

“While you were pretending to be an acrobat, and a bad one at that I should point out, Meg was fixing that roof.” Charlie said. “All by herself.”

He frowned at the roof in question. “It doesn’t look very sturdy.”

“It’s not,” Meg agreed.