And she was not going to resist.
His fingertip traced a circle about her lips. He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted it gently. She closed her eyes.
Someone cried out from not very far away. Eden opened her eyes with a start. She drew away from Hartley, searching for the source of the cry.
They had been seen. How was she to explain—
Her gaze fastened on a figure running at breakneck speed down the fellside. The figure resolved into a boy a few years older than Donal. Eden didn’t know him. He wore a dalesman’s clothing, and his eyes were wide with worry.
He drew up to the cart, panting hard. He tugged his cap to Eden, but his gaze settled on Hartley. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, can ye help me?”
Without so much as a glance at Eden, Hartley swung down from the cart. “What’s the trouble, lad?”
” ‘Tis our best ewe, sir. She fell between rocks, an’ her leg’s broke, an’ her lamb is birthin’. Can ye come?
“I will.” He finally looked at Eden. “If her ladyship can drive back to the house alone.”
How was it that he could show such indifference to what had just occurred? Her own face still burned with consternation and thwarted desire. “You may go with the boy, Hartley,” she said, “but I shall accompany you.”
” ‘Tis a hard climb, m’lady,” the boy said, studying her with new interest.
In answer, Eden hopped down from the cart and shook out her gown. “What is your name?” she asked the boy.
“Jeb. Jeb Topping, m’lady.”
“You needn’t worry about me, Jeb.” She raised a brow at Hartley. “I wish to see if Mr. Shaw is as good with sheep as he is with horses.”
Man and boy exchanged glances and conceded defeat. Jeb started up the fell, while Hartley hung back to assist Eden.
“Don’t wait for me,” she said, hitching up her skirts. “I shall be with you presently.”
He frowned. “If you should fall—”
Her emotions were in such disarray that she chose to ignore them entirely. “I am not likely to break. Go on.”
Surely it wasn’t her imagination that his eyes warmed with approval. “Very well. Call if you need me.” He set off after the boy, climbing with impressive speed and agility.
Call if you need me. Such simple words, and yet they made her knees quiver like blancmange. She steeled herself, took a deep breath, and followed Hartley’s path up the fellside.
Very soon she realized just how impractical were the flimsy slippers she had chosen to match her gown. Dress and shoes would be ruined, and she was apt to have blisters to boot. Her legs, which had but recently become used to vigorous walking, began to cramp and shake. Setting her jaw, she persevered, slipping and sliding on rocks, mud, and grass.
At the top of the fell—just when she was certain that her legs had lost every bone they possessed—she heard the ewe’s pitiful bleating. Hartley and the boy had gone to the other side, where a jumble of large rocks had formed a trap for the unwary animal.
All Eden could see was a mass of ivory wool and Hartley’s back. Jeb watched anxiously, eager to help. She descended toward them and tumbled onto her rump. No one heeded her mortification. Abandoning all pretense to dignity, Eden slid the rest of the way until a sizable rock provided a landing place.
Hartley’s voice, calm and soothing, comforted the ewe as if it were a frightened child. He lifted the sheep in his arms. One of its forelegs hung crooked, and its belly bulged with new life.
Hartley turned to lay the ewe on the slope. He seemed unaware of anything but the wounded animal. Lifting its head, he bent and breathed on the ewe’s muzzle.
Jeb rubbed at his face with a dirty sleeve. “Thank you, sir. I know she willna make it, but the lamb will be saved.”
“She’ll be fine,” Hartley murmured. He ran his hand over the distended curve of the animal’s belly. The ewe shuddered.
“There are two lambs,” Hartley said. “One is turned.” He stroked the ewe again, from muzzle to tail.