Chapter 10
Within two-and-a-half hours they were back in their two carriages and heading for the Northcolt estate. Warm bricks were at their feet and Maggie and Dickson were riding in the carriage behind with Oscar.
At first, Sophia had fretted and had kept checking in the tiny window at the back of the carriage, but eventually tiredness from their early morning activities had over taken her and she had leaned against his chest, allowing sleep to claim her.
Jason dozed fitfully, but he was vaguely aware of every jolt of the carriage. It was a well-sprung vehicle, but the roads were in a worse state than usual after the dreadful summer and now what looked like being a harsh winter.
He knew this area well and reckoned they must be about an hour from the nearest inn. They would stop there to rest the horses. It was a little early for lunch, but they would eat something and let the animals have a break. The snow would be hard on them. He was just thinking to pull down the window to tell the driver when a crack and a massive jolt bounced him and Sophia out of their seats. Screeching from his horses and a shout from the driver followed as the carriage began to tip to Sophia’s side. Without thinking, Jason grabbed the woman and hauled her to his other side, so he would bear the brunt of the impact.
His torso thwacked onto the window as the side of the carriage hit the ground. He grunted in pain and a waking Sophia cried out as she landed on his chest. With the wind knocked out of him and his mind fuzzy from a knock on the head, he was unable to get his bearings for a few moments.
Then, sound outside the carriage.
“My lord, my lady?” That was Dickson’s voice.
“Oh God, my lady,” He did not recognise the girl’s voice. She sounded like she was from near where Whitsnow lived.
Whitsnow. Oh yes, he’d visited him.
“Jason?”
An elbow dug into him and he cursed in pain.
“Devil take it. Watch whose ballocks you’re digging that elbow into.”
“I’m sorry, I… it’s difficult to get up.”
She was a refined lady. He blinked. Memories of this morning and her damp sweet… oh yes.
“Are you well, Sophia? Sorry I was dazed.”
“I believe I am. I think you broke my fall.”
“Hmph! I think I broke more than that. Devil take it.”
The crying of a baby got louder as the door, which was now on top of the carriage, was flung open.
“Oscar!” Sophia screamed, nearly deafening Jason.
“He is fine, my lady. He just does not like being out in the cold. We came to see if we could help.”
“Take him back into the warm carriage.”
“Yes, my lady.” Jason pulled himself up into a seated position, then with an arm around her waist, somehow managed to get them both into a standing position.
“Bert!” It was Maggie the maid shouting. “Bert come back where are you going? Come back. Hoy!”
“Hey Bert!” That was Dickson’s voice. Jason knew Bert was the coach driver of the other coach that the maid, Oscar and Dickson had been travelling in.
“What the devil is going on?”
“He just took off, my lord. He’s taken the coach, the horses and all the bags.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He’s going mighty fast for these conditions, mind. I don’t fancy his chances.”
“Where’s Alf?”
“I’m here, my lord. I just got myself back. I was half-tossed and I half jumped free. I heard you and Her Ladyship talking. It sounds like you are well. It’s more than I can say for your horses. Please say you have a pistol in there, so I can put these poor beasts out of their misery.”
“Aye, Alf, I do.” He pulled a pistol from a drawer that was currently at shoulder height, but would normally be under the seat and handed it out.
“Dickson, help me get Lady Rutherford out. Sophia, I will boost you up with my hands. You shall use my hands like a moving stool, is that clear?”
“Yes. But how shall you get out?”
“Brute force and bloody-mindedness.”
“That should not be a problem for you, my lord.” She gave him a sweet smile. He took the opportunity while they had it to press his lips to the exposed part of her neck.
“I thought you liked my bloody-mindedness.”
“I do.” She pushed her hand behind her and cupped his ballocks. He groaned. She was such a tease. “Along with other things about you.”
“You are a naughty wench. I shall punish you for that later.” She stiffened. “Oh do not worry, my love. It shall be a punishment you will enjoy. Now place one of your feet on both my hands and both hands on the sill of the window, then hold on as I lift you up. Are you ready to catch her, Dickson?” he called out the last.
“Aye, my lord.”
He boosted her up and halfway out. Dickson shouted that he had her and Jason lifted her legs and pushed her farther out, taking care not to scrape her legs or skirts on the sill. When another pair of hands came around her feet to finish lifting her the rest of the way, Jason sighed with relief.
“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 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.