Quickly he secured his horse and limped as fast as he could to where she lay, still ominously unmoving.Awkwardly he lowered himself to the ground, the familiar taste of fear bitter in his mouth. “Jenna!” he called, patting her shoulder. “Jenna, can you hear me?”There was no response. He touched her wrist, overjoyed to feel a faint pulse against his shaking fingers. Though she lay with her face in the mud, he dare not move her until he knew the extent of her injuries.Detachment settling in, he traced down her limbs, then up from the base of her neck. Relief flooded him when he determined that, as best he could tell, the spine appeared intact and no bones had been broken.By this time the thunder of approaching hoofs told him the groom must have finally seen his fallen mistress. A moment later, a panic-faced lad skidded to a stop beside Tony. “Cor, m’lord, be she dead?”“She breathes still—no thanks to your diligence,” Tony said acidly. “Help me turn her—gently!”Tony discovered, as he’d suspected, a purpling contusion on her temple.
