Page 8 of Kismet

Spending time with Catherine had managed to tip the scales towards something he hadn’t felt in quite some time: hope. Their dance had been delightful, and the supper conversation had been fun in a way that he hadn’t experienced in a while. Seeing Cedric happy with Miss Selene had been a wonderful surprise, and he was thrilled she had managed to make his brother laugh.

While he would never want to spend more time in society than he had to, perhaps a dance here or there with the right people could be bearable. He knew that as an earl, his brother had to attend more events than Theodore could ever manage without pulling out his hair. He had previously wondered how he would manage the season and help shepherd the girls, but after tonight, he mused that attending events with Cedric, Darcy, and his gaggle of ladies was probably something he could handle after all.

The steady pace they had been taking came to an abrupt halt, pulling Theodore from his thoughts. There was a commotion in the distance that made the horses stomp uneasily. An unusual screaming filled the air. There was a seriously injured horse somewhere at the front of the line of stopped carriages. Theodore could recognize it from his time in the Calvary.

Sticking his head out the window of the carriage, Theodore asked, “Can you see what is going on?”

The footman sitting beside the driver looked back at Theodore. “There has been an accident, sir. It looks like a carriage has been overturned.”

Hopping down from the carriage, Theodore felt a familiar quiver run through his leg on impact. At least it had not given out on him. Amidst the cacophony of the horse's cries and the searing ache in his leg, fleeting memories of past battles flickered in his mind. He did not know if the memories brought the pain, or if it was the pain that brought the memories, but the familiar rush that came with going to someone in need helped him move beyond the horrors of his past.

Cedric was right, he needed to find ways to help people, and this was just the kind of opportunity he had been needing. Not only did he have the experience necessary to help with the horses, but he also knew how to treat injuries in a pinch. Looking back up into the carriage, he said, “Ladies, stay in the carriage. I am going to see if someone needs assistance. Please do not go haring off trying to help. It is late and I do not want any of you to get injured.” With that, he rushed off towards the sounds of commotion, weaving his way through the dark street.

Trying to block out the screaming of the injured horse and the cries of alarm, Cedric closed his eyes. The accident had turned his carriage into a chaotic mess, and he found himself lying against what used to be the side of the carriage but was now the floor. The bumps and imperfections of the material were a comfort of sorts, for at least he could feel them on his cheek. He had tried to get up to help whoever was screaming earlier, only to come to realize that he could not move.

A heavy sense of dread settled in his chest as he accepted the grim reality that the situation was beyond his control. He could still blink, which was good because it meant he could blink the blood out of his eyes as it dripped down his face. It was clear that he had a head wound, though he guessed it was probably not the only wound he had sustained. At least he was mostly free of pain.

As time passed in an odd, disjointed haze, he felt his mind drifting. The dance he had shared with Selene had been lovely. He almost smiled, thinking that it was good to end things on such a pleasant evening. She had been all that he was looking for in a dance partner, and spending time talking with her at supper had been a delight. She did not fawn over him and his title and had expressed several interesting opinions. It was a pity he would never dance with her again.

He was not going to lie to himself. He knew that the situation indicated his end. No one who had become paralyzed at the neck lived for very long. He most likely had other injuries that would only complicate matters, and he was weary, feeling as though time was slipping away.

There was a shout that pulled him from his hazy contemplations. The familiar voice, filled with a distinct sense of authority, had been Theo. His poor baby brother. It would all fall to him now, and while Cedric had every confidence in him, his only remaining worry was whether his brother was happy. Everything else faded into insignificance. He heard the door to his carriage fly open.

“Cedric, my God,” Theo cried from above him.

After a few grunts, Theo was before him, and he could see his brother's terrified face. Cedric realized he really must look horrible if his battle-hardened brother was that pale. He knew in his final moments that there was not much he could do to help Theo, but he felt that he must find a way. It would be so hard for his brother now, with so much to take on. Summoning reserves he did not know he possessed, he managed a faint smile. “Find your happiness.”

Chapter Four

The hair-raising sound of the horse's scream that filled the air was so foreign to her that she had trouble comprehending what was happening. Almost as disturbing was the silence following the single shot that echoed in the distance.

Mary, Catherine, and Georgiana sat shoulder to shoulder in the carriage, their hands clasped tightly together as they tried to steady their shivering bodies. The darkness of the night seemed to be closing in, suffocating and heavy with foreboding. Despite her composed facade, Mrs. Ansley's charges could detect a subtle sense of nervousness in her mannerisms.

After an interlude of waiting for Colonel Fitzwilliam to return, Mrs. Ansley spoke to the groomsman. “Is there any sign of movement?”

Trying to stand on the seat with the assistance of his comrade, he replied, “Some carriages seem to be inching forward at a snail's pace. It appears they have been able to maneuver around the accident.”

“Can you see the colonel?” Miss Catherine was concerned about his extended absence. If it had been a simple issue, he would have been back already. It felt as if she was waiting for some horrible news. As time went on, the likelihood of people having been horribly injured in the accident became more and more probable.

“No, there are people moving around, but it is too dark to tell them apart,” came his response.

Even as they started moving again, they were stuck in limbo, waiting for more information before they could make any decisions about how to proceed. If the accident was bad enough, they were not that far from Darcy and Matlock Houses and could aways send back help.

The driver gasped as they got closer. “I think the carriage is familiar, Mrs. Ansley. I hope I am wrong, but…I think it is the Matlock carriage.”

“Good Lord, how far back are we?” cried Mrs. Ansley.

“Maybe five carriages back now.”

Catherine stuck her head out of the window, straining her eyes as she tried to see anything in the dark, foggy night. Everything was shadowy and without detail and she could not tell one carriage form another. “Jameson, can you run to Darcy House? I fear that Colonel Fitzwilliam will be in need of assistance if that is his brother's carriage.”

“Yes miss, I will be back with help as swiftly as possible.” The groom climbed down from his perch and took off into the darkness.

Looking back to those inside the carriage, Catherine could see Georgiana burst into tears. Mary's grip on Georgiana tightened, clearly trying to soothe the younger woman as she cried. Catherine reached out and gripped Georgiana's free hand as she sat numbly in the night.

The colonel’s devastation was palpable, and it broke her heart to see him that way. When they had pulled even with the accident, Catherine had jumped out of the carriage and gone in search of Theodore. He had been issuing commands, sending people for supplies and instructing how to move the carriage further out of the way of traffic. Despite watching him take control of the scene, she could see the cracks forming in the facade that he was presenting to the world. She could hear his breath hitch every time his eyes drifted towards the silhouette of the blanket-covered body.

It was enough for her to know with a sickening feeling who was under the blanket and just how horrible the accident had been. She had asked in a halting voice how she could help him. His only response was a shake of his head and pursed lips, as if he could not even vocalize what he needed.

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