Page 23 of Vanquished By A Viscount
“Do go and rescue the man,” Charlie murmured to Robert with a smirk.
Laughing, Robert took himself out of the last carriage, and when he did, Barbara insisted on coming with him. Mr. Lindhurst ended up in Charlie’s carriage for a briefmoment, muttering about blasted chaperones and impediments to enjoying himself. He leapt out again at the last moment and dashed into the carriage containing Lady Suzanne, Lady Carolina, and more specifically, Lady Patience just as that carriage rolled forward.
For a handful of baffling seconds, Charlie was alone in the last carriage. Before he could do more than form the thought that there was a chance he could forego the entire mad excursion and slink back into the house, Grayson leapt into the carriage with him.
“Oh, God, no,” Charlie muttered, rolling his eyes.
Grayson had a similar reaction when he saw the sole inhabitant of the carriage he’d just lunged into as the rain picked up. “No,” he said, shaking his head and leaning toward the door as if he would jump right out again.
It was too late, though. Whether because he’d been given some signal or out of pure exasperation, their driver had already set the carriage in motion, and the strength of the rain was an additional deterrent.
“Not a word from you,” Gray said, flopping back into the rear-facing seat and crossing his arms. “Do not so much as look at me.”
“Believe me,” Charlie said in reply, crossing his arms as well, “I have no intention to.”
He proceeded to stare straight at Grayson.
That was it. The two of them sat where they were, rattling along in the ill-sprung carriage, each staring at the other at first, then turning away with sniffs and grunts to stare out the opposite windows, saying nothing. Their coats were already damp with rain, making the air inside the carriage overly warm and humid. It might have been dramatic, but Charlie did not think he had ever endured such an unpleasant drive in his life.
As fate would have it, no sooner had he thought those words than the carriage tipped worryingly to the side, coming to a complete stop. Charlie uncrossed his arms and leaned toward the door, peering out to see if he could ascertain the problem. Gray did the same, but neither of them seemed to note the similarity of their movements, nor the fact that they brought the two of them physically closer together.
The driver shouted something that Charlie could not make out above the pounding of the rain, then the carriage shook slightly as the man jumped down from his perch.
A minute or so later, there was a knock at the carriage door. When Gray opened it, the driver said, “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Hawthorne, but the roads are all mud, and the carriage has slipped into a ditch. The horses are in a spot of bother.”
“Can anything be done?” Gray asked with genuine concern.
The driver looked reluctant to speak but marshalled his courage enough to say, “We might be able to dislodge the carriage and ease the beasts if all three of us pushed together.”
Gray glanced warily at Charlie.
“I have no qualms about assisting a driver in dislodging a carriage from a ditch for the sake of the horses,” he said.
“Neither do I,” Gray said quickly, as if he did not want to be outdone.
Gray hurried to jump down from the carriage. Charlie was right behind him.
As soon as Charlie’s boots squished into the thick mud under them, he regretted his offer of help. The carriage was badly stuck in mud that had been created by days of rain and the horses were restless with fear. That rain continued to pour down as the three of them assessed the situation, then as Charlie and Gray made their way to the back of the carriage while the driver saw to the horses.
It was an utter mess. They never should have taken the best of the carriages out, let alone one as antique and in ill-repair as the one Charlie and Gray rode in. Several minutes of effort on the part of all three men managed to budge the carriage from the muck, but in the process, one of the back wheels snapped, rendering the carriage useless.
“I suppose we’ll have to walk back to Hawthorne House,” Gray sighed, wiping rain and splattered mud from his face.
“It’s more than a mile, sir,” the driver said, shaking his head. “I would not recommend it.”
“What are we supposed to do, then?” Gray asked.
“If you please, sir,” the driver said. “If you and Lord Broxbourne would but wait inside the carriage, I will take the horses and go for help.”
The last thing Charlie wanted was to be trapped in a dilapidated carriage with Gray while a servant went for help, but there was little else he could do. The rain seemed to pick up with mocking severity, and since his greatcoat was already nearly soaked through, there seemed to be nothing to be done to stave off a certain cold, or at least hours of misery, but to pile back into the carriage.
“I shall return as swiftly as possible, sir, my lord,” the driver told them before heading off.
Charlie sighed as he sat back against his seat. With his coat in its current condition, doing so was supremely uncomfortable, so he moved forward again to unbutton and peel out of the sodden garment.
“This is intolerable,” Gray said, doing the same.
“Afraid of spending a few hours in close proximity with me?” Charlie teased him, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
