Needing to reassure himself that she was all right, Kit looked over at Alice. Her mother frowned disapprovingly at her daughter’s side, while the chaperones fussed and fluttered. Alice appeared miserable. A second later, she glanced up and met his eyes. I’m sorry, she mouthed.

She was apologizing to him? Whatever for? He should apologize to her for dashing out of the kitchen last night, for getting drunk and saying God knows what in his room. For agreeing to help her in the first place. The list was endless. Alice had done nothing wrong whatsoever.

He stared at the lemonade in his hand. What was he doing? Fetching her lemonade like some pimply-faced lad with a single hair on his balls? This was ridiculous. He was not a “fetch refreshment for the virgin” sort of man, and hovering around Alice would bring both of them undue attention.

Thrusting the glass in Lockwood’s direction, he muttered, “Here. In case Alice is thirsty.”

The duke appeared confused but didn’t argue. “Good idea. Might take her mind off the injury.”

Lockwood strode toward Alice, so Kit hurried in the opposite direction. It took no time at all to find the group in the pool’s changing room, and ten minutes later everyone had returned to the tent. The young ladies made more of a fuss over Alice than the chaperones, and it soon became clear that Alice was mortified. She stared at her lap and kept offering apologies. It was quickly decided that Alice should be carried up to her chambers, so Kit, Harrison and Lockwood each stripped off their coats and lifted a side of Alice’s chair. Slowly, they carried her inside the house and up the stairs.

The progress was tedious, made more so by Mrs. Lusk’s unnecessary and relentless commentary throughout. Kit couldn’t see Alice’s face, as he was positioned at the back of the chair, but her tense shoulders suggested her mother was compounding Alice’s humiliation.

“Mrs. Lusk,” he interrupted as they turned a corner. “With all due respect, what will make this go faster is silence.”

Harrison pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to laugh, but Kit ignored him. The only reaction that mattered was Alice’s, and he was relieved to see her shoulders relax ever so slightly.

Good.

When they arrived at Alice’s chambers, Mrs. Lusk preceded them and held open the door. They carried Alice inside and set the chair on the floor. Kit moved to scoop Alice up so he could place her on the bed—and Lockwood put a hand on his arm.

“As the only attached man here,” the duke drawled, “it stands to reason that I should be the one to lift her.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Mrs. Lusk said as she looked down her nose at Kit. “We would not want anyone to get the wrong impression.”