Darcy had only been inspecting the ground for a few moments when a feminine voice called out behind him, “Pardon me, sir...did your horse abandon you?" He started at the unexpected sound, and reflexively stepped down with his injured foot in order to keep from toppling over. Containing a groan of pain, he attempted to turn and face the unknown person, but found he could not pivot his body and keep his weight on one foot. Instead he was forced to look over his shoulder, twisting his torso uncomfortably.
The source of the voice seemed to be a young lady, though he could not say for certain for she was only half visible out of the corner of his eye. Darcy felt relief and dismay in equal parts: help had arrived much sooner than expected, but a lone young woman had limited usefulness in such a situation. She was substantially shorter than himself (though that was not an unusual circumstance), and therefore could not be relied on for physical assistance. There was also the question of propriety, though that was not chief among Darcy’s concerns when he was one forceful gust of wind away from falling over.
However, whatever the shortcomings of his would-be rescuer, he was in no position to refuse aid. With as much equanimity he could manage, Darcy replied, “Yes, I am afraid I have. Forgive me for not facing you properly madam, but I took a fall, and only have limited use of my right foot.”
He paused, embarrassed to ask his next question, but stifled the feeling and continued, “Would you be so kind as to move so I can face you directly?”