by Em Taylor
“Your turn Jason. Be careful.”
He pulled out the drawers under the seats and used them to climb up to the window, then he used his own strength to boost himself. He was halfway out and considering rolling himself onto the snow, when his servants came to his aid. Apart from some nasty scrape marks on his buckskin breeches, he made it to the ground unharmed.
He hurried to Sophia, who was fussing over her crying son.
“Are you both well?” he asked, raking his gaze up her body.
“I believe I am fine my lord. And you?”
“I was slightly winded and may have an egg on my head later but otherwise, no harm done. What the devil has got into Bert?”
“The Devil I imagine,” replied Alf, looking thoughtful. “He’s been quiet since last night. Wary like.”
“Wary? That is odd. Perhaps we should look and see what happened to the carriage and tend to the horses. I hear them struggling. Probably best to put them out of their misery.”
“You shall kill the horses, Jason?” asked Sophia.
“Aye. Best they go quickly than suffer. You may want to cover Oscar’s ears from the report.”
She sucked her lips into her mouth in a grimace and nodded. She had grown up around horses. She understood what had to be done. The only sentimentality that was left was to not allow the animals to be in needless suffering.
They walked to the front of the carriage. It looked as if one of the beasts had already given up and may be dead.
Hearing horses hoof beats he looked up to see another carriage heading towards them. It was going far too quickly for the conditions. The poor horses. But Jason was too busy yelling at Sophia, Maggie and Dickson to get to the side of the road. He nudged his driver over too. The banging of the pistols startled him.
“What the…?”
A woman’s scream, then a pain ripped through his arm.
“My lord!” yelled Alf.
Small billows of smoke came from the smoking pistols and all Jason could see were heads being lowered back in the windows and one turning back to sit beside the driver. The people on the carriage had fired at them.
“Good God, who has been hurt?”
He raced to the back of his own carriage to see Maggie, pale and holding on to Dickson, a large dark red blotch slowly growing at the back of her coat.
“Maggie was shot,” Sophia said in a whisper. “Wh-what do w-we d-do?”
Jason handed Alf the pistol. “Deal with the horses. I’ll deal with Maggie.” He turned to Sophia. “Where are our valises?”
“In the other carriage.”
“Damn. Give me your neck cloth Dickson,” He said as he started to pull off his own. His hat landed on the ground as he unwound the thing, paying little heed to what was happening around him.
“You can have my underskirts,” said Sophia.
“No. You need to keep warm.” He did not mean to sound so harsh, but Sophia stepped back slightly and clutched the crying baby to her. He took his valet’s neck cloth. “Help Maggie out of her coat.” He should apologise to Sophia, but he did not have the time. He was too busy. He wanted to see if the maid was going to survive. It seemed, however that Sophia was rallying.
“I shall hold her coat… and anything else.” He handed her the coat.
“Thank you.” He gave her a tight smile then looked at the maid. “The bullet is low down. I believe it is much lower than it would have to go to hit her kidneys, so hopefully the only things we have to worry about are infection and blood loss, assuming we can get the lead ball out. Maggie?”
“Yes, my lord?” He rolled his eyes at her formality at such a time.
“I apologise profusely for this, but the best way to stop the bleeding for now is to lift your skirt and apply the pad and bandage I have made from our cravats directly to your skin. I shall have to see you in dishabille to do it.”
“In what?”
He sighed. “I must see your bare bottom.”
She moaned then.
“My Lord, I do not care if you chop off my leg, as long as you help me.”
“Very well. Turn her away from the road at least, Dickson.”
“Lady Sophia, you can be my witness that I am not taking advantage of the girl.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake, Jason, just help her,” Sophia sounded annoyed now. Good God, he was trying to do the right thing. He was not one of those aristocrats who tumbled their staff and had fathered bastards all around the country as a result.
Jason lifted Maggie’s skirts and untied her underskirts. They were so much thinner and rougher than the undergarments he was used to undoing. But this was the only way to help the poor girl. He lifted her gown higher, his hand getting dirtied by the blood soaking into the fabric. When he found the bullet wound he grimaced. Poor thing.
He was relieved to see the lead ball just embedded in her flesh. An apothecary or doctor should be able to get that out. That was good news. Hopefully they could get her to someone in time and could avoid her getting an infection.
“Pad,” He barked and Dickson handed him the pad he had made from one of the neck cloths. “Other cravat.” He used it to secure the pad as best he could around her waist. It was not great. He could not help thinking the clout he had fashioned for Oscar had been better. But it would have to do for now.
Maggie was moaning softly, and he pulled up her underskirts, doing his best to be as gentle as possible. He tied the underskirts slightly higher than before, hoping to use them to help secure the pad too.
“What do we do now?” asked Sophia, as he dropped the maid’s gown and turned to her, gesturing for the maid’s coat.
“We walk to the nearest inn. I believe it is about a mile from here.”
“Aye it is that,” said Alf, coming up beside him. “Horses are both dealt with.” Jason had not even heard the pistol shots. He had been concentrating so hard on dealing with the maid’s gunshot wound.
“What about your wound?” asked Sophia.
“My wound?” Now that he thought about it, his arm was bloody sore.
“My lord, it looks as if they have ripped half your arm off with a bullet.”
He pulled at his sleeve and grimaced. The movement sent a searing pain through him.
“Devil take it.”
“Alf, do you know how to hold a baby?”
“I have three of my own bairns, my lady.”
“You do?”
“Aye.”
“Here.”
She handed the babe over to the coach driver before helping Jason remove his coat. He had to breathe heavily in through his nose and out through his mouth to ease the pain. “Be careful. It hurts like the devil.”
“Good God, Jason. It’s a terrible mess. It needs a bandage and a couple of pads. I need your cravat, Alf.”
“I have a knife in the top of my left boot. Make the pad out of the bottom of my shirt,” Jason said, through clenched teeth.
She did as she was told, except rather than taking the fabric from his shirt for the pad, she ripped up a layer of her underskirts. She merely raised an imperious eyebrow when he snorted his upset at this. Damn aristocratic women and their wilful ways.
She made a good job of the bandage and soon he had his coat back on and she was deferring to him again. He found it rather funny that for a short time, she had taken full control and been completely and utterly capable, but now that he had back on his greatcoat and hat, she seemed to slip back into the part of the dutiful little woman. He preferred to see her with fire in her belly.
Actually he preferred to see her half-naked and in bed, but that was for when they did not have two shooting victims and a snowy mile between them and safety.
And why was his cock half-hard at the thought of her in his bed despite their circumstances?
“Maggie, do you think you can walk?”
“I can try,” said the maid.
“I’ll help her,” said Dickson.
“No. I need you to stay with Alf. I do not want
anyone left alone. I shall send someone out to help you clear the carriage and horses from the side of the road. It’s in a dangerous position. You need to warn other carriages as they come along until we get back to the inn and send a team out. They’ll bring you back. Stay warm. Walk up and down and please be careful.”
Dickson nodded, but he looked disappointed. Did the lad have a tendre for the maid?
“Aye, my lord.”
“We shall take good care of her and you shall see her as soon as you get to the inn. I can carry her if she cannot walk.”
“But you are injured, my lord.”
“It’s a mere graze. What would you have me do? Leave Lady Rutherford and the babe here in the cold.”
“No, of course not.”
“It is the best course of action. It is not ideal, but it is all we have.”
“Sorry, my lord. I did not mean to…”
“No need for apologies today, Dickson. It is not a usual sort of day. Lady Rutherford, would you like to take a stroll with me?”
She hurried to his side. “My lord, I fear I have left my parasol at home. What if I get freckles?” He chuckled as he helped the young maid to the side of the road and they all fell into step.
Chapter 11
It felt like it had been hours. They had not long been walking when the ominous dark clouds showed just how unkind they were going to be. Large flakes of snow fluttered around them. She was concerned about Oscar. He was terribly quiet. She hoped he was just sleeping and all the excitement had tired him out. But what if he was sickly?
Maggie was obviously struggling and she had stumbled a few times. They had not seen even one carriage. She had hoped that at least someone would come along and see their plight and help them. But nothing. When Maggie had stumbled, fallen and struggled to get to her feet, Jason had hefted her into his arms. Now they were both carrying burdens. He had the heavier burden, but at least Jason had decent boots. Her half-boots with a silly little heel were made for fashion and the town, not for the snow.
She started singing a little folk song the cook had taught her when she was a child and she’d sneaked into the kitchen. The woman had been from Wales, just over the border from her father’s Herefordshire property and the song was in the Welsh language. It was the only song she could think of at that moment.
“That is beautiful. Your voice is so clear and melodic, my love,” Jason murmured.
“I was just trying to pass the time. It’s a Welsh song about a lost love.”
“And do you have a lost love?”
She chuckled without humour. “I was never in love with my husband. I was fond of him. In a way one would be of a grandfather who gave one nice sweetmeats. But not in the way Eleanor speaks of Edward Ferrars, or Marianne eventually of Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility.”
“So much more of the sense then.”
“Most definitely. I married out of duty.”
“Would you do that again, if you could go back to your coming out?”
“I do not know. I may not have met you, but for being married to Lord Rutherford.”
“True. Do you not wish you could fall in love?”
She was quiet then. She was sure she was in love with this man. Head over ears in love with him. And yet, he seemed oblivious.
Luckily they were just turning a corner. Through the mist and snow they could see the outline of what must be the inn.
“Is that the inn?” She asked, instead of answering his question.
“It looks like it. Come. The sooner we get there, the sooner we all get warm and dry and can send help to Alf and Dickson.”
They got into the inn and Jason explained to the inn keeper what had happened—though with some details changed—and that they needed a doctor and some men to go out and help the other men with the coach. He had a pouch full of coins and offered the inn keeper a large number of them to help out. He arranged for Maggie, Alf and Dickson to have rooms on the upper floor, along with a single room for them and the baby. They were masquerading as husband and wife after all.
When they got to Maggie’s room and were left alone, Sophia sat by the fire and looked at him.
“Why did you tell the inn keeper we were set upon by highwaymen?”
Jason was turning Maggie onto her front. “I would hardly let him know people were looking for us. Firstly he might be given more coin by the people wanting us, also he may have been unwilling to let us stay if he thought we may be bringing trouble to his door.”
Of course, that made sense. Oscar started to snuffle and his little face scrunched up. Sophia had never been so pleased to hear her baby cry as she was at that moment. Perhaps he had just been asleep.
“Good afternoon, my brave boy. You are back with us. Are you hungry?”
She glanced over at Jason. He was watching her, his blue gaze darkening. She knew he wanted her physically. How did he feel emotionally? Was she just a warm body? Or was she more than that?
“I shall take him to my room and feed him.”
“Our room.”
“Perhaps you should see if they have a spare room. I should not like to bump that sore arm in the night, my lord.”
“I am more than happy to bump anything with you in the night, Sophia.”
He caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, careful of Oscar between them, but his loins nestled against her hip and she could feel the effect she had on him.
“My lord?”
“Do not use this incident to pull away from me Sophia.”
“I am not pulling away. I just… Please, Jason. Oscar needs to be fed.”
“And I need you too.”
A knock sounded at the door and Jason let go of her. Sophia scurried out of the room as she heard him call for whoever was on the other side to come. It was the doctor apparently. The village was only five minutes’ walk away and he had come immediately. Sophia left the door open as she lowered her clothing and allowed her son to feed. There was talk of giving the maid laudanum. Sophia hated the idea. Her father had taken too much laudanum and killed himself. She and her brother believed it had been suicide but her brother had covered it up so that her father would not have to be buried at a crossroads. Her father was buried in the family burial plot on consecrated ground. She loved her brother for lying. She hoped there would be no eternal consequences for him.
She grimaced as the maid’s screaming started. She knew taking the lead ball out of Maggie’s back would hurt. She knew that there was nothing else for it, but it was not pleasant to listen to. That said, she was not the one going through it. And it was her fault the maid had been injured.
Guilt and fear washed over her and as her son finished feeding and fell asleep in her arms, it was with tears streaming down her cheeks, that Jason found her.
“What the deuce is the matter? Were you hurt too?”
“No. I am fine. I…” She looked up at him, her vision blurry with tears. “This is my fault. You and Maggie are injured because I have brought this trouble to you.”
“Shhh!” He gestured to the door then kicked it shut. Lifting Oscar out of her arms, he laid the infant on the bed, then raised Sophia to her feet and enveloped her in his arms. “I did not have to bring you to Yorkshire. I also warned Maggie of the danger when I asked if she wanted to come. That said, I did not imagine us being shot at. You cannot take on the burdens of the world, Sophia. Sometimes bad things happen.”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head and she realised her coiffure had mostly fallen about her shoulders.
“What shall we do now?”
“The inn keeper has a coach he can hire us to get to my house. It is not as comfortable as my coach, but it is not far to my father’s estate. Now I must go and get my wound tended to. Let me taste you before I go.”
“Taste me?” Memories of the previous night and his licking her warmed her belly.
“A kiss, Sophia. Much though I should very much like to do that again, now is not the time.”
> He lifted her chin and kissed her sweetly. She was about to wrap her arms around his neck when he withdrew.
“What did the doctor say about Maggie?”
“Keep the wound clean. He put a poultice on it. He hopes it shall not get infected. With luck she shall be fine.”
“He did not want to bleed her?”
“I would have sent him to the devil had he wanted to do that.”
“Good. Ask the doctor to come in and clean your arm.”
“In here?”
“You can hardly be cleaned in the maid’s room. We are supposed to be married.”
“It may be gruesome.”
“My lord, I have dealt with a maid with a gunshot wound to the back, a baby I thought may be dying from the cold and a…” she waved her arm unsure of what relationship they had. “A protector who also had a gunshot wound.”
“A protector?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Wait! You thought Oscar was dying?”
“He seemed so still. I was not sure.” She tried not to let the tears well up, but the awfulness of the day just flooded over her and she was in his arms again. “Jason, I thought he might die.”
“Oh my darling. You should have told me.”
“You were struggling enough with Maggie. Besides, what could you do?”
“I could have given you my coat.”
“No.”
“Yes, Sophia. You must never go through that kind of pain alone again. You must tell me.” His voice was both fierce and gentle as she sobbed her acquiescence into his waistcoat.
A cough from the door made her pull away from him, a guilty tinge flooding her cheeks. Jason lifted an eyebrow at the intruder.
“Mr Rhodes, you must have your wound seen to. If it gets infected, I cannot be held responsible and I have no desire to lop off that arm.”
“No, I suppose not. Come. Are you sure you wish to stay Sadie?” Sophia looked at him and his blue eyes were serious.
“Yes, my love. I am fine now. And the baby is asleep.”
“Can you check the baby’s chest ‘ere you go, doctor? Just her chest? I would not like to think she got chilled while outside, but her ma thinks she was just sleeping.”
