Page 45 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
Chapter 32
He found them in a most unusual predicament. They’d come in a gig, which was now tilted towards the right along a steep embankment along the side of Lord Oliver’s property. Lady Emily sat clinging to the left-hand side of the seat while Lisbelle, having narrowly escaped tumbling over the embankment, now stood helplessly watching from the road.
“Don’t panic,” said Oliver.
“Oh,” cried Lisbelle, “I told her it was folly for us women to come without a driver. I told her as much. But no, My Lady is stubborn as all get-out. And now look at her. Oh, God forgive my neglect of her safety!”
Oliver went around the front of the carriage and immediately diagnosed the problem. The right shaft, possibly never attached properly in the first place, had now come loose, evidently shifting the carriage awkwardly along the turn at the top of the embankment. He need only lift the shaft and right the carriage and Lady Emily would be saved.
“Still that horse!” he commanded.
Lisbelle ran to the horse and laid her hands upon its head. “Now then, girl, you just relax and let Aunt Lizzy be your sweet angel. That’s it.”
“Are you okay, Emily?”
“I’m fine,” she said, clinging to the left side of the seat.
“Hold on for but one moment.”
He grunted and growled, mentally swearing to himself for insisting that Reese leave at once. He squatted slightly, dug his heels into the dirt, and using the muscles of his leg, pushed the shaft upward on his shoulder, growling in pain as he did.
The carriage righted.
“Get off, immediately!” he grunted.
Lady Emily skittered off the seat and dismounted from the left. Oliver let the shaft go and cried, “Lisbelle, move away!” He then gave the horse a great whack on the hindquarters and shrieked for it to go.
The horse gave a startled complaint and took off. But the loose iron tip of the shaft caught his breeches and tore into his leg as it did so. Oliver screamed in pain and stumbled just out of the way, narrowly avoiding having the wheel of the carriage roll over him.
Emily ran to his side as Lisbelle tried in vain to stop the horse.
“Oliver,” she cried, “speak to me!”
“I’m alright,” he said, his voice broken by gasps.
His breeches were torn at the right thigh, and a ruby red gash showed through. Blood began to spread along his pant leg.
“We must get you inside,” said Emily. “Lisbelle! Take that horse and fetch the doctor at once!”
Grabbing one arm and wrapping it around him, she helped Oliver to his feet and walked him in while Lisbelle unharnessed the horse.
Once inside, Emily laid him down on the couch she had previously occupied.
“There, be still.” She went to the sideboard and poured him a dram of brandy. “Here,” she said, stooping to his level, “drink this. I’ll fetch some water for your leg.”
He heard the horse gallop away, presumably with Lisbelle atop. He took a sip of the brandy, coughed, and laid his head back.
Presently, Emily returned with towels and a small wash basin.
The pain in his leg gave a searing flare as she pressed the towel to it. And at once, all went black before him.
Chapter 33
Madeline heard the familiar tread of Lord Peter’s magnificent steed on the forest floor. The sound raised hackles of delight on her arms, and her heart began to thump in her chest.
She had been dusting the furniture in Mr Garret’s room when her ears pricked up at the sound, and now she ran to the door. As she caught sight of him, she busied herself at the threshold, pretending not to notice.
The horse reared to a stop.
