Danice Allen (3 page)

“Hell and damnation.”

“Do ye need some help, milord?” The barkeep had somehow skirted the table without Jack noticing and was standing at his elbow. Jack had no desire to be helped outside for the private purpose he intended. It was unmanly. And it proved he was too drunk to take care of the most basic of human functions.

“No thank you, my good man,” he said, lifting his chin proudly even though his head was already pounding like a kettledrum. “Just direct me to the
nearesht
door, if you
pleash.”

The barkeep pointed to a dark archway that looked to Jack about a mile away. “That’s the back entrance, milord.”

“Exshellent,”
said Jack, and he weaved himself in that direction.

He got outside, wandered in a profusion of bushes for a while, took care of matters, then headed back toward the door of the pub. But after several minutes, he realized that he’d perhaps gone the wrong way. He stood still for a moment and looked around.

The trees were tall and blocked out the moonlight. The vegetation surrounding him was thick and he could observe no evidence anywhere of a footpath parting the shrubbery, but it was dark and foggy, and everything was spinning. “Hell and damnation,” he said in salute to the wilds of the West Sussex countryside.

He was beginning to question the wisdom of pulling over at such a secluded, bump-in-the-road pub to wet his whistle. They could have gone on a while longer and stopped somewhere more civilized. But they’d stopped at his command, then the gin and the miserable anticipation of his wedding on the morrow had overcome him.

Jack strived to think. He must face facts; he was as fuddled as he’d ever been in his life and, judging by the ominous rumblings of his stomach, about to cast up his accounts. He staggered to what he hoped was a clearing in the brush and felt the cool rush of wind in his hair. For the first time since he’d left the pub, he noticed it was lightly raining. The cool water on his face was refreshing, so he stood there for a minute with his eyes closed as his stomach thankfully began to settle.

A noise was intruding on his serenity, though. A distant thunderous sound. He felt vibrations through the soles of his boots. But his brain was so muddled by booze, he couldn’t remember where he’d heard that sound before.

The sound was getting louder, coming closer. He opened his eyes and realized he was standing in the middle of a highway. Terror struck him as he suddenly recognized the sound and anticipated his fate. Coming round a bend in the road was a coach-and-four being driven at a spanking pace.

As he lunged to the side in a desperate effort to avoid the imminent trampling of his sorry bones, he speculated wryly that death was certainly one way to avoid marriage but not the sort of escape he’d have willingly chosen. So awfully permanent, you know…

Chapter 2

The driver shouted a curse, the horses whinnied, and Amanda lurched forward as the coach rocked and shuddered to an abrupt stop.

“Good heavens!” she exclaimed as she righted herself in the seat and pushed the rim of her bonnet out of her eyes. “We must have hit a cow!” But when she scrambled out of the coach, she found Theo kneeling beside the prone figure of a man, the two outriders standing over him with lanterns.

Amanda’s stomach twisted with empathy and apprehension, and for a moment she was unable to move. The man’s long legs, clad in light gray breeches and tall black boots, were the only part of him she could see from where she stood; his face was entirely hidden from view behind Theo’s broad back. The man did not lie directly in the path of the agitated horses but was sprawled just off the road to the side. He was very still.
Too
still.

“Good God, Theo, we haven’t killed him, have we?” she asked her coachman in a tremulous whisper.

“We didn’t trample ’im, if’n that’s what ye’re wonderin’, miss,” answered Theo, turning to look at her. As he was crouched directly under the lantern glow, Amanda could see her coachman’s distraught expression quite clearly.

“Then what happened, pray tell? You wouldn’t look so milk-faced if there was no reason for concern. Why does he lie so still?”

“He was standin’ dazed-like in the middle of the road, miss. He got out th’ way just in time, but it appears he hit ’is head on a rock.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Is he … bleeding?”

“Like a faucet, miss.”

“Then stem the flow!”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, miss, but with what?”

“Good heavens, Theo, use your imagination!” Amanda said, exasperated. She watched Theo cast his eyes about the wet, leaf-strewn ground in a helpless manner for no more than thirty seconds before she lifted her skirt and tore a flounce from her petticoat. Theo and the two young outriders averted their gazes.

“Here, use this!” ordered Amanda, thrusting the length of muslin toward her embarrassed servant. “When a man’s life is in jeopardy, ’tis ridiculous and
deadly
, I daresay, to be a prude!”

“Yes, miss,” mumbled Theo, taking the delicate ruffle with shaky fingers and wadding it into a ball.

“No, Theo! Fold it!” admonished Amanda, advancing till she stood next to him. “Fold it several times, then press it to the wound!”

Theo tried to do as he was instructed, but he was as ham-handed as possible, even dropping the fabric twice on the sodden ground. “What’s the matter with you, Theo?” Amanda demanded. “Your ability as a horse doctor is well known!”

“But this ain’t no horse, miss,” Theo complained miserably. “This here’s a swell if ever I seen one! Nursin’ a nobleman ain’t no joke! What if he turns up ’is toes and they string me up fer murder?”

“Nonsense!” scolded Amanda.

“It could happen, miss,” Theo assured her. His round face, framed by muttonchop whiskers, was etched with worry.

“Don’t be a peagoose, Theo! He’s not going to die … unless, of course, we let him bleed to death!” Amanda intensely disliked the sight of blood and was certainly not accustomed to touching strange gentlemen, but this was an emergency. She lifted her chin and demanded, “Step aside and let me have a go at ’im!”

Theo more than willingly relinquished his responsibility for the swell into his employer’s only slightly steadier hands.

As Amanda got down on her knees beside the man, she sternly told herself to be calm and efficient. Now was not the time for her to get swoonish over a bit of blood, or to let her shy reluctance to touch a member of the opposite sex get in the way of saving a man’s life.

Without looking directly at the unconscious gentleman, and disregarding the muddy ground and the rain that spotted her velvet cloak, she hastily folded the muslin. “Hold the lantern closer, please,” she ordered.

In the bright glow of the lantern, Amanda finally looked at her patient. For a moment she was so arrested by the man’s face, she froze. He was by far the handsomest man she’d clapped eyes on in an age. She winced when she saw the gash above his left brow, however, and immediately pressed the folded muslin against it for a couple of minutes, then dabbed away some of the blood.

She was relieved to see that the laceration was not very deep, but he did have a rather alarming lump beneath it. She supposed the swelling accounted, in part, for his continued unconsciousness. But Amanda smelled the strong odor of liquor on the man’s person and concluded that he was inebriated, too. She wondered how much his unconsciousness could be attributed to his injury and how much was the result of too much brew-tipping!

While her servants once again averted their gazes, Amanda tore another length of muslin from her petticoat, then wrapped it around the man’s head in a makeshift bandage. “There, that shall have to do till a physician can be consulted,” she said, briskly whisking her hands together. “We’d better get him off that cold ground and out of the rain immediately or else he might catch an inflammation of the lung to add to his troubles. Lift him into the carriage, gentlemen.”

“Where are we takin’ ’im, miss?” was Theo’s most reasonable question.

Amanda’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know.” She scanned the area, seeing nothing but thick shrubbery and trees shrouded in mist. “I can’t even imagine where he came from in the first place. I don’t see any lights or smoke from a chimney.”

“According to the map, the closest village is ten miles west of here, miss,” said Theo. “They might have a doctor there to attend to the gent. And even if they don’t, I’m thinkin’ it’d be smart to rack up for the night at the first decent inn we see in town and take care of ’im as best we can.”

“Yes, that would be the logical thing to do,” Amanda agreed. “I had been thinking it was time to stop even before this unfortunate accident. We’re nearer the coast here, and the fog is rolling in. Travel could become quite difficult. As for this gentleman, once he’s regained consciousness, he’ll be able to explain the whole incident and give us names and directions of relatives we can notify.”

And hopefully they’d not be delayed too dreadfully long from pursuing the real purpose of the trip, thought Amanda. She felt sorry for the injured gentleman, as well as responsible, but getting to Thorney Island to rescue her half-sibling was uppermost in her thoughts.

“You take ’is feet, Harley,” ordered Theo, speaking to the smaller of the two outriders. “I’ll take ’is upper parts, and Joe, you keep ’is middle parts from saggin’. The bloke weighs at least fourteen stone, I’d wager!”

Amanda held both lanterns and watched as her servants lifted the man—with some considerable effort—off the ground. He was absolute dead weight and hadn’t moved, nor even so much as twitched, since he’d hurtled himself out of harm’s way and connected in such an unfortunate manner with a rock.

His inertia alarmed Amanda. After all, he looked to be in prime twig. He couldn’t be much over thirty years old, and every bit of the fourteen stone he carried on his tall frame had to be either muscle or vital organs, as he appeared not to be the least encumbered by fat. He was dressed very smartly, too, and would no doubt be horrified to know how muddied he’d become.

Despite the labored breathing of her servants and their uncertain footing in the muddy road, the removal of the gentleman to the carriage was going along fairly well till Joe slipped and fell. Without his assistance, Theo and Harley staggered and looked ready to drop their burden had not Amanda set down her lanterns and come to their rescue by supporting the suddenly unsupported “middle parts.”

Even as she exerted all her effort to do her fair share of the heaving and hoeing, Amanda thought with some amusement that for the first time in her life she had her hands quite firmly planted on a man’s derriere. She also thought, with a rush of blood to her cheeks, that his derriere felt rather pleasantly … firm.

Not too soon for Amanda’s deteriorating composure, they finally maneuvered the gentleman into the carriage and draped his large body on the forward-facing seat. The man was much too big to fit comfortably on the cushions; his legs dangled off the end and stretched across the foot space between the seats. But in his condition he could not be aware of how uncomfortably he was situated, so Amanda tried to disregard how awkward he looked crammed into the small space and stepped into the carriage to sit down opposite him.

As she was settling her damp skirts about her, Theo stuck his head in the door and said, “We’d best get Harley or Joe in here with ye, miss.”

“Under the circumstances,” said Amanda dryly, “I don’t think a chaperon is necessary.”

“He might wake up, miss, and be out of ’is head. He’s in ’is cups, and who knows what he’d do once’t he found hisself alone with a comely female … if ye don’t mind my plain speakin’, miss.”

“If the goose egg on his forehead doesn’t keep him sleeping like a babe till long after we reach the inn, the goodly amount of liquor he imbibed certainly will,” Amanda calmly replied. “Besides, there’s no room for another passenger.”

“Harley’s no wider than a lamppost, miss. He’d squeeze in nicely, I should think.”

“No, thank you, Theo,” she said firmly. “If I find myself in danger of being seduced or strangled, I shall certainly use my parasol to knock on the ceiling … or on the stranger’s head if the situation is desperate.”

Theo frowned doubtfully.

“Now, do hurry along, Theo, and drive us to that village you mentioned before I freeze to death or the gentleman actually
does
recover his senses.”

“I don’t know, miss,” Theo said stubbornly, convinced it was an odd business allowing his mistress to be closeted with a stranger … swell or otherwise.

“He’ll have the devil of a headache, you know, when he does come about,” Amanda said pointedly. “He’ll want some brandy and a warm, dry bed to collapse into. Remember, Theo, we’re dealing with a gentleman who is accustomed to comfort, and who may perhaps be a little toplofty, as well. If he learns you delayed our departure out of concern for my safety while in his company, he might take umbrage!”

Theo needed no further inducement to climb atop the box and urge the horses to a gallop.

Amanda leaned back against the velvet squabs of the carriage and pulled off her wet and dirty gloves, her eyes fixed on the fashionable fellow sprawled on the seat across from her. The lantern inside her carriage was lighted, and she could observe him quite easily and, since he had no notion he was the object of her perusal … quite freely as well. Though considerably disheveled at the moment, he was a handsome one, all right. But what did that signify to an old maid like herself?

She sighed deeply. “How one’s life can change in the twinkling of a bedpost,” she commented aloud. “First I find out I have an illegitimate sibling I must rescue, then I am compelled to play nursemaid to a sinfully handsome, inebriated fellow who wandered—quite out of nowhere!—directly into the path of my galloping horses! I feel perfectly justified in complaining that I’ve not had a fortuitous day!” She shook her head and clicked her tongue at her unconscious companion. “And neither have you, my good man.”

To Amanda’s considerable consternation, the gentleman chose that moment to stir. He moaned and reached for his bandaged forehead, instinctively seeking to alleviate the source of his discomfort. Just as instinctively, Amanda leaned forward and grasped the man’s wrists.