"I'm serious," Miranda replied, her tone of voice laced with concern and a certain amount of disapproval.
"So am I." He spoke through clenched teeth. "I'm willing to go to bed — just as soon as you waltz me out of here and into the carriage I hope to God you left waiting."
"But your bed is upstairs."
"Up sixty-eight stairs I can't negotiate," he admitted. "And even if I could get to my bed without anyone noticing, how long do you think it would be before she discovered the reason for my absence?"
"She's your mother," Miranda reminded him. "She should know you're injured."
"No." He spoke from behind clenched teeth. "No one can know." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the top of Miranda's head. "Except you."
"Why me?"
"Because I trust you," he told her. "And…"
Miranda's heart swelled with pride. "And?"
"You're the only woman tall enough and strong enough to manage."
Miranda's romantic dreams died a sharp, quick death. "Thank you for informing me of that, Your Grace." Miranda's reply was sharper than she intended, but she was struggling to keep her hurt and the tears that stung her eyes from showing. "No doubt I needed to be reminded that I'm always the biggest girl anywhere," she muttered.
"Miranda…" he began.
"No."
He knew she couldn't refuse him. "Please, Miranda, waltz me out of here. I can't walk out of here on my own and I bloody well can't quadrille out. Waltzing is the only way. We'll head for the terrace."
"The terrace?"
"If I hold on to you, I know I can make it…"
"You're an ass, Your Grace…"
"I know," he answered as the orchestra began the waltz.
"You're lucky I don't leave you bleeding all over your mother's marble floors," she told him, as he took her in his arms and guided her into the first steps of the dance.
Daniel inhaled deeply, gathering his remaining strength. "I know."
Miranda felt the trembling in his arms and carried as much of his weight as she could. "Good heavens, Daniel, you weigh a ton."
He grunted in reply and did his best not to lean so heavily on her. But he was fighting a losing battle and they were both keenly aware of it.
Miranda knew the effort it took for him to waltz so effortlessly and she did the only thing she could think to do to keep him upright and moving. "If you stumble and fall or step on my feet, I swear to God, I'll leave you where you lie and let Her Grace deal with you."
Squeezing his eyes shut against a wave of dizziness, he faltered.
Miranda felt the slight breeze from the open terrace doors and realized victory was within reach. She moved closer, taking on more of his weight as she whispered, "Hold me closer."
"Too… close… already…" He ground out each word. "Your rep — "
"Hang my reputation! You're bleeding through your waistcoat and onto my new ball gown. So, don't give up on me now, Daniel. Because when this is over and you're recovered, you're going to accompany me to my dressmaker's and buy me the most exquisite ball gown anyone has ever seen…"
* * * * *