“He is no friend of mine, and he will be a dead man before this day is done,” the duke said, gritting his teeth. “Did you see which road he took?”
“I did.” Otto nodded. “I called after him, but he never noticed me. Believes he got away clean. He did something to her, by God, I saw him … put something over her face … she went limp …”
“Which road did he take?”
“The beach road, south … he went south …” Otto said breathlessly.
Nick started taking the steps two by two, and Otto called after him, “Here … where are you going? We have to go after her!”
“Get your horse, Otto, and follow as you can. I’m for my pistol, a fresh mount, and Edward’s head!”
“’Tis something I’d like to see …” returned Otto, taking off once more.
***
Sir Edward moved the window shade aside and gazed at the passing scene of sand and sea. The mist was turning into a fog. Pushing the window jacket open to let in the breeze, he sighed.
It was lowering to think he had come to such a pass.
Here he was, abducting a lady of quality, one of his own, and why? Because she didn’t want him.
What if she never forgave him for this day’s work?
He turned and looked at her. He had set her on a pillow, but even so, the bumping and lurching of the coach was going to give her a kink in her neck when she awoke. Just one more reason for her to think him the worst of men.
She slept like a child, unaware, but she would wake and know him for what he had become—a scoundrel.
“Lookee … look sharp, Papa!” cried the young groom to his father.
Sir Edward frowned and looked out the window. “What …?
It was too late.
The driver had not seen the huge rut in the road in time, and Sir Edward was thrown back into the coach. He heard his driver howl with something close to terror just before the world around him tumbled and crashed.
The horses pelted out sounds of fear as the driving reins yanked them hard. In spite of their tethers, and for self-preservation, they jumped the wide ditch to avoid it. Although they cleared the gap, the carriage wheels landed directly in the long, wide gully.
The driver was flung forward, and the carriage tilted precariously to one side but miraculously only fell onto its side.
Inside, Babs groaned in her ether-induced sleep as she fell to the floor. Sir Edward was flung hard and hit his head against the wall in front of him. He was then thrown back against the squabs and lay dazed against them.
A moment later, Sir Edward shook off his lapse in consciousness and found Babs’ boots in his chest.
The driver was at the door, which was hanging open as the coach creaked and moaned. He had been dusting his wool cap off, but at the sight of Babs unconscious on the floor he threw his hands to his uncovered head and wailed, “Sir Edward! Oh no, the lady … be she hurt?” And when Sir Edward regarded him foggily, he asked, “Sir Edward … can ye ’ear me?”
Sir Edward was dazed still but lifted Babs’ legs and set them aside as the driver kept repeating that they’d landed in a ditch. He wanted to swing at the fool and make him be quiet.
“The road must have washed out a bit with that storm we had last week …” The driver scratched his head as his son tugged at his coat. “What, boy … what …?” He turned anxious eyes on his son.
“We best be getting them out … before she goes over …”
Sir Edward gently eased himself out of the coach. Then he turned, took Babs under her arms, and slowly eased her out. The driver jumped to help him, and together they carried her and laid her on a patch of grass alongside the road.
“A blanket for the lady,” Sir Edward said, beginning t
o regain some of himself.
He had a nasty gash across his forehead, and blood dripped down his face. He brushed it away with the back of his hand and rubbed it off on the damp grass. The lad arrived with the blanket and laid it on the ground. Sir Edward and the driver lifted Babs again to place her on the blanket. Sir Edward wrapped her up in it, and then he sat beside her, his knees drawn up as he contemplated the problem before him.