Madcap Miss

Of all the damnable things. He was sure Daffy must think him the worst brother in creation. And she was right. He shouldn’t have stayed even for the first ale. His Daffy would very rightly ring down a lecture on his head for his lateness.

It took some skill, driving at night, but he was experienced and knew the trick of it, allowing his horses to have their head as he tooled his neat curricle over the road.

He didn’t hear the sound of an approaching coach until it was too late. He grimaced as he saw the team of four, driven by a man who seemed intent on leaving a devil at his back, and cursed under his breath as his horses became distressed and fidgeted beneath his hands, nearly sending his curricle into a ditch.

The coach’s team also spooked sharply and appeared bent on rearing and staying in the air until the driver got them under control. The duke noted that this was not easy, as the coach was old and no doubt difficult to wield.

The driver didn’t even acknowledge him as he kept his horses together and steadied them back into a swift pace forward.

Annoyed, the duke shouted a curse after the fellow, who either didn’t hear or didn’t care in his frenzy to get home.

The duke was left with a dashed difficult time of it, as his spirited pair found the entire episode distressing in the extreme and pranced in place. He finally got them settled down and as they moved forward mumbled a string of interesting curses, which caused his horses’ ears to flicker with attentiveness.

As the curricle clamored along, he assuaged his anger. The man was an ill-mannered coachman, but who knew what had set him off.

It was then that he saw something in the road, and he sat up tall on his open bench. What was this? What, not another delay?

What the blasted hell was going on?

He saw an odd shape in the road, sprawled out, and another shape hovering over it. Caution, he told himself. What, just what have we here?

It was a woman? She appeared to be in breeches? What the devil? But, yes, it was a woman, and now she was flinging her arms about. What the bloody hell?

* * *

Felicia’s relief when she heard the sound of horses and the wheels of some conveyance approach was so complete that she clasped her hands together before she began frantically waving them about and shouting, “Help … please help!”

All she could think was that help was now on its way. The picture she and poor Scott might present to a stranger never entered her mind. Scott was bleeding and unconscious from a gunshot. That was all that occupied her brain.

As she rushed towards the coach and the giant of a man driving, she tripped on a protruding rock in the road and went flying forward to land with a heavy thump.

The man brought his nervous steeds down from the fidgets and hurriedly dismounted before rushing towards her. He helped her to her feet and asked solicitously, “Are you hurt?”

“No, not I, oh but … come … do,” she said.

“What the bloody hell are you doing on the open road at this hour?” he asked and appeared to Felicia to be quite distressed over the problem as he added, “Daffy will never believe me.”

“I am sorry … but …”

“But?” his voice was full with impatience.

Felicia felt the color rush to her cheeks but put her chin up. “Please, sir … I … we need your help.”

“Indeed?”

She watched as the stranger looked past her. His brows went up with surprise. “My brother …” she freely invented, though she felt a wretch for lying, but what else could she do? “… has been shot by highwaymen … when he tried to help …” Suddenly Felicia wanted to cry, and something did in fact catch in her throat as she continued. “I can’t lift him, you see, and he is bleeding to death here on the open road.”

Her words seemed to take hold as she witnessed the stranger move into immediate action.

He ushered her along, and she saw that Scott’s horse had returned and was nuzzling her horse, who grazed by the side of the road. He bent to Scott and examined the wound. “I think the bullet has lodged itself in his shoulder.”

“What shall we do?”

“My curricle will have to do. Do you think, if I lay my cloak beside him, we could manage between us to slide him onto it?”

“Yes, yes …” she said hopefully and watched as he laid his cloak on the ground.

“Take his ankles, that’s right. I shall try and lift him around his lower chest,” he said as he slid his arms beneath Scott.