A Hero Appears (Continued) . . . Thanks Er for making my night!

“You are right Miss Weston,” he said looking up at her, his hair dripping water into his eyes. “It is deeper than I anticipated. Is the gardener shed near? Perhaps I can retrieve a latter or something else to aid us in your release.” He wiped at his face with the back of his hands, his clothes were now as wet as Lydia’s and quickly becoming as dirty. He adjusted his footing and looked around them, calculating something with his eyes. He was now only a few feet from Lydia and she could clearly see the blueness of his eyes. His gaze caught her off guard when he looked up at her, suddenly seeming to come to some conclusion over what he had been thinking. Lydia felt a deep red rush to her face as he asked her, “Can you move your legs at all? I believe that if you can get a few steps closer to me I am sure that I can pull you out.”
In response to his inquiry Lydia pulled at her right foot, feeling the mud grasp tightly at her shoes and suck her foot back down. Her shoes seemed to be constraining her now more than the mud; they felt tight against her skin causing her feet to prickle.
“My shoes seem to be holding me captive more than the mud; perhaps if I untie them and free my legs I will be able to move forward.” She bent over and ran her arms down her legs into the mud and felt around, trying to find her laces. She was able to pull at them, loosening the laces as she stuck her fingers into the tops of her shoes. She tried to free her right foot. She could feel it give and begin to slide. The feel of cold water and mud sliding into the void left as she pulled caused her stomach to spin slightly. She suddenly hoped that water and dirt were all that was oozing in. Mr. Ashton watched her progress, seeming to turn slightly as her foot appeared from its dark captivity.
“Okay now place your foot as far forward as you can while still being able to reach your left foot.” He said.
She slipped her right foot back into the mud as far forward as she could reach while keeping one hand close to her left leg. It caught her a bit off guard how much colder it felt now that her stocking was the only barrier between her skin and the mud. Turning her full attention back to her left leg Lydia managed to again untie her shoe and began to pull at her leg, this time she could hear the suction against her foot as she lifted her leg. The wind had apparently decided to cooperate and quiet down, offering a moment’s peace as she freed her legs of their leather constraints and settled them closer to the shore, closer to Mr. Ashton too she thought, fighting off another rush of blood to her cheeks.
Shyly she looked up, pleased with her progress and ready for further instruction from her brave rescuer.
“Good, good,” he said, his hair now slicked back out of his face, allowing her to briefly analyze his strong jaw and cheekbones and catch the piercing blue of his eyes again.
“Now see how far you can reach with your arms.” He encouraged.
She reached out only now remembering the mud that went all the way up to her elbows, creating a sudden surge of self-consciousness. It didn’t seem to faze him at all, he reached out grabbing at her fingers, and nearly falling forwards himself in his efforts.
“I am afraid to step out any deeper than I already am, is there any way you can take another step or two, the closer we get the more likely our success at your release and the faster we can get you dried off and warming in front of a fire. ” He said this with his brow creased slightly in concern, making Lydia wish to leap into his arms and making her feel as though she could drag him alone from the mud and onto the waiting shore. She felt her face burn with the blush that came now.
“I’ll try,” was all that she managed to give voice to as she lifted her soiled dress lightly with her muddy hands, realizing fully now how horrible she must look, in return causing another blush to overcome her face. She bent her head as if in concentration hoping that he had not seen her burning cheeks. She pulled and her leg began to give easier now than when she had had her boots on. After only a minute she was able to lift her right leg free and stepped forward adjusting her foot to avoid the sharp rocks hidden below and finally feeling it stay firmly in place. Her left leg came easier than the right, settling down with the mud only coming up mid calf. His arms were now stretched forward, awaiting hers.
“One more step Miss Weston and I’ll have you,” he said causing a sudden charge in the air between them and another roll of red to overtake her face. She was now hoping that her face had simply remained red from the first blush to the latest as she looked down and pulled her right leg out. “I will never come near this lake again” she thought as she settled her right leg in again and pulled at the left. His fingers were now circling around her wrists pulling them forward. She felt her body lift and her legs slide once again to freedom as he pulled her towards him, away from the murky waters and into his warm embrace.
“I think it best with your permission if I carry you the rest of the way” he said, already scooping one arm under her knees and the other around her waist in one smooth motion, making her air born before she could reply. In response to his fast movements she swung her arms around his neck, causing his until now only damp shirt to become smeared with mud. She gasped at both the shock of being lifted up so easily and at the brown smears that now adorned his shirt, neck and even his face.
Blushing harder than before Lydia’s lips trembled as she said, “Oh Mr. Ashton, I am so sorry, now your shirt too is ruined. I will get you another I promise.”
He laughed lightly as he looked at her muddy arms gripping his neck. “No matter Miss Lydia, you are free of your watery prison and the rain is still coming, so let us proceed away.”
He turned his body towards shore, and stepped forward careful but firm in his movements. For Lydia it felt as though they had not moved at all. She looked at his face as he moved; his brow was furrowed again slightly in concentration but his eyes sparkled deep blue with action, making her instantly crimson again. The close contact to him, being carried in his arms, and being swept out of the mud so easily sent chills down her arms as they crossed over onto the grass at last. He seemed to hold her tighter in response, “You are freezing, Miss Weston. We must get you indoors.”
She thought that he would set her down once they had reached the grass, but he continued on walking towards the gardens edge. She felt as though she should say something but her throat suddenly felt dry, as though if she opened her mouth she would only croak. In relief it was he that spoke first.
“Now Miss Weston may I ask what caused you to be placed in such an . . . unexpected position?” The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he spoke.
Lydia paused briefly before responding, wanting to be certain that her voice would come. Trying to sound as composed as possible Lydia replied. “Yes Mr. Ashton you, my rescuer are certainly entitled to an explanation, but I am sorry that it is rather dull and embarrassing.” She paused, taking a breath and feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her accompanied by a slight nausea, realizing how foolish her e explanation sounded.
“I decided to sketch on the island this morning since the sun was out and I completely lost track of time. I guess I didn’t notice that a storm had come in until it was too late and in my hurry to return to shore I pushed out on my boat not realizing that the oars were not secure until it was too late and I was stranded from either shore.” Pausing to brush her hair back from her face she continued as he looked down at her smiling slightly in encouragement. “The oars slipped out and in my attempt to retrieve them I am afraid that my boat capsized causing me to swim to shore and in turn leaving me stuck in the mud.”
He stopped walking and looked down at her. “Were you their long?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice, causing her to catch her breath once again as she caught the glint of blue in his eyes.
Her response came out as a stammer “I, I don’t believe too long, no longer than a quarter hour, perhaps a little longer.” She sniffed, squeezing his neck slightly as she suddenly realized how truly cold her mud caked arms and legs were.
Her sniffle seemed to motivate his feet to move once again and faster in their journey across the lawn and through the garden. They crossed the drive way within five minutes of leaving the lake shore. Now Lydia could see the housekeeper Mrs. Swenson and Butler Mr. Kent hurrying towards them through the mist.
“Miss Lydia,” Mrs. Swenson exclaimed. “Miss Lydia what has happened? Are you all right child?” She rushed over looking Lydia up and down from head to toe as best she could in Mr. Ashton’s hurried pace.
“I am afraid that she had a small mishap with her boat and fell into the lake.”Mr. Ashton said, continuing onto the stairs leading up the back terrace of Westwood. “She is in need of a warm fire and change of clothes, I am afraid that a cold may have already set in.”Following along Mrs. Swenson seemed to only now register that Lydia was being carried up the stairs by a barefooted man who looked as equally awkward as Lydia in his muddy and wet apparel. The look on her face told Lydia that misunderstanding would shortly lead to much trouble.
“Mrs. Swenson,” Lydia interrupted before the words perched on Mrs. Swenson’s lips could come out. “Mr. Ashton saved me from my horrible situation of falling into the lake and becoming stuck in the mud for two quarter hours,” which elaboration caused Mr. Ashton to smile slightly, “I am most vehemently in his debt! Could you please see that he has a change of clothes and warm fire as well and something warm to drink?” Lydia’s plea caused Mrs. Swenson to pause and close her mouth. “I am most indebted to him!” She continued.
Regaining her composure Mrs. Swenson swished her skirts about her and hurried onward while calling “Of course Miss Lydia,” turning her attention now to Mr. Kent. “Mr. Kent please see to it that fires are prepared and that Mr. Ashton is looked after, I am going to see to Miss Lydia.”
Mr. Kent, a few steps ahead of the rest of them, opened the door and led the group down the hall to the room where the Weston family breakfasted each morning. A fire was already blazing in the hearth and Lydia could feel its warmth drift over her as they crossed the threshold sending another chill up her spine.
“Over there Mr. Ashton, by the fire.” Mrs. Swenson indicated, a warm blanket already in hand. She placed it over the chez-lounge in front of the fire before Mr. Ashton set her down. The blanket was then tucked around Lydia as Mrs. Swenson called out instructions to various servants that appeared in the doorway.
“Eliza, go with Anne and prepare a bath for Miss Lydia, and a change of clothing.” Turning her attention to new arrivals she extended directions to all who would appear. “Mr. Andrews please do the same for Mr. Ashton, I am sure that Mr. Weston would be willing to extend the curtsy to Mr. Ashton of opening his wardrobe to him, especially after what he has done.”
The walls in the room seemed to be alive with attention, awaiting their own instructions as Mrs. Swenson continued directing orders. It was only when Lydia stretched her feet towards the warmth of the fire that Lydia realized that Mr. Ashton was kneeling besides her watching her face. The rush of warmth to her cheeks caused her to look down from his piercing gaze. She heard his throat clear and watched his legs stand and turn to go.
“Mr. Ashton” she called leaning forward as though to stop him. He turned back to her, his hair once again brushing against his forehead as it furrowed ever so slightly in attention. “Please do not go without allowing me to thank you for the great service that you have rendered me today.” Un-wrapping one arm from the folds of the blanket encircling her frame she held out her hand to him. A smile broke out on his face touching the corners of his eyes and made them twinkle a sparkling blue as he stepped toward her.
“You are most welcome Miss Lydia” he said extending his hand. “I only hope to see you again in . . . less complicated circumstances.” Smiling once more as he gently squeezed her hand and bowed. Then without further adieu he nodded and left the room.