Page 30 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
“Miss!” Fanny cried behind her, carrying her reticule and parasol.
Agnes was grateful Fanny had thought about taking the items she had so quickly discarded as she would have bemoaned their absence later.
“Thank you, Fanny,” she said, taking her things from the maid. “I do not even recall dropping these. I would have hated to lose my money and Mama’s parasol.”
It was a pretty one her father had gifted to her mother for Christmas and held sentimental value. Agnes’ mother had insisted she take it with her because she was convinced it would bring her luck. While she didn’t believe in luck, Agnes was delighted to use such a beautiful parasol as her own one was a tad faded.
“Are we going to a physician?” the maid asked.
“Lord Hampton has assured me that he will take the boy to a physician,” said Agnes, briefly glancing at the quiet man ahead of them.
It was challenging to match his strides as he hurried to wherever he had left his carriage. Lord Hampton finally slowed down and pointed at an open carriage big enough to fit them all in.
“That is mine,” he said. “The physician is only a five-minute ride from here.”
“That is good news, My Lord,” she replied. “The sooner the boy is helped, the better. I hope he will not suffer any lasting damage.”
“The physician should be able to tell us what is wrong and what can be done. We can only hope the boy’s youth will work in his favour.”
Agnes agreed, and nothing else was said as they approached the carriage. The man carrying the injured child was nothing like the one who had ignored her and treated her coldly during their first meeting. It somewhat confused Agnes, but it also intrigued her. Perhaps he was not as cold-hearted as she had first assumed.
Chapter 9
William never thought he would be one of those who immediately enter a shop to avoid a person, but that was precisely what he had done today. He had seen Agnes approaching from across the street, and part of him had panicked, so he entered a hatmaker’s shop and kept watch at the window.
It had been childish of him, but William had not wanted to deal with the possibility of greeting the woman his mother expected him to marry. Little did he know that his hiding place would provide the perfect view to witness a side to Agnes that was as unexpected as it was admirable.
“My Lord!” his driver exclaimed when he saw him approaching with the child and two women.
“Please get the step and assist Miss Humphries and her maid into the carriage, Rogers,” William ordered. “We need to get to Dr Ralfe as soon as possible.”
“What happened to the boy, My Lord?” the man asked, getting the step and positioning it for the ladies.
“A fool nearly ran him over,” William replied. “Please climb into the carriage, Miss Humphries. I’ll hand the boy to your maid as soon as you’re both settled.”
“You shall hand the boy to me, My Lord,” Agnes insisted, the firmness of her voice allowing no argument. “I will carry him.”
William simply nodded and waited for her to climb up before gently giving her the child. Agnes took most of his upper body into her lap, but the rest lay across the maid’s lap. Following into the carriage with no time to delay, William urged his driver to get the contraption moving. Rogers cracked his whip in the air and gave a cry, jerking them as the carriage lurched forward.
“Gently, Rogers,” he cautioned the man.
“Sorry, My Lord,” the driver apologised. “We’ll reach Dr Ralfe soon.”
The horses moved at a reasonable pace as Rogers guided them expertly through the traffic, speaking to the two beasts like children. Unfortunately, the volume of people, horses, and carriages on the road meant they would not reach Dr Ralfe as quickly as William had hoped.
“I’m afraid we’ll not reach the physician within five minutes, Miss Humphries,” William told her apologetically.
“Yes, I noticed, My Lord,” Agnes replied. “It cannot be helped.”
William expected her to continue speaking, but she fell silent and returned her gaze to the child, stroking his hair away from his face. He wanted to offer her words of comfort, but William didn’t know what to say.
He could not guarantee the child’s health, neither did he wish to raise her hopes only to disappoint her later. The young boy’s pallor was a clear indication of shock and likely the pain from the hard knock he took to the head.
William had watched the entire scene from the hatmaker’s window and had winced as the boy had fallen hard on the pavement. The last thing he expected to see was Agnes throwing all caution to the wind and running towards the boy with a look of horror on her face.
She had cradled the boy in her arms as though he were her child, and while William hadn’t heard all the heated conversation between her and the phaeton driver, he could tell that Agnes had given him a piece of her mind. William had fully intended to stay inside the shop until Agnes left, but seeing her in distress had moved him enough to leave his hiding place and offer his assistance.
“The bump on the back of his head is growing,” Agnes said, looking at her maid with worry in her eyes.
