Saving Grace Read Free Page B

the fall.
    “Horse got spooked and took off sudden,” Harrison said. “Pulled us clear to the side. The road turned sharp, and afore I knew it, we were tipping.”
    Miranda took up the tale. “Threw us both against the door, and that wouldn’t have been too bad. But we’d barely stopped when the latch broke, spilling us into this bog.”
    “Well, I’m right thankful for the muck,” Harrison said, his voice grave. “It likely softened your fall considerable. Elsewise, you’d both have been hurt much worse.”
    “Or — had Father not sold the fine carriage Grandfather left me and forced this miserable one upon us — we mightn’t have been hurt at all,” Grace grumbled.
    Neither Harrison nor Miranda replied. As a lady’s maid, Miranda was everything prim and would not deem it proper to share an opinion. Harrison might have, but never around Miranda.Their silence only served to make Grace feel more isolated in some half-class, where servants regarded her as their superior, but her peers did not find her equal.
    Dwelling on either her father’s shortcomings or her own confused place in the world was of no use, so Grace wiped her muddy hands as best she could and carefully started up the slope. Of more concern was making certain she remainedin the world. At the moment, she felt awful enough that her very existence was quite possibly in danger.
    My fever is growing worse, Grace concluded as a shiver wracked her. The steady rain intensified to a downpour, plastering her hair to the sides of her face. It did not seem as if things could get much worse, but she well knew they could, were her illness to turn more serious.
    Perhaps it is already more serious. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t, to ignore the twinge in her chest each time she drew breath.
    To her servants, she said drily, “I seem to be developing a rather grand talent for getting thrown out of places.” She bent over, coughing again. Both Harrison and Miranda fussed over her, clucking their concern and trying to shield her from the rain.
    “Never mind all that,” Grace said when her coughing fit had subsided. “I’m right as ... rain.” She attempted a feeble smile, though she doubted either could fully see it or appreciate her effort in the dark. “Please help me back to the carriage. Though I’m loath to see our journey’s end, I daresay a visit to Mr. Preston’s will be better than this.”
    “It’s not so easy as all that.” Harrison held her elbow, steadying her as they made their way across the slippery grass to the road above. “We’ve a broken wheel, and the carriage is straddling the side of the road. I don’t trust it enough to even set you inside to wait out the rain.”
    “A fine kettle,” Miranda scolded Harrison, as if the accident were his fault. “And Miss Thatcher worse yet, out in this cold. She’ll catch her death.”
    “We both know that isn’t an option,” Grace said. Though just now, were it not for Helen, Grace might have thought death would be an improvement over her current situation. She forced back another cough, then pulled her wet traveling cloak tighter. In its current state, it wasn’t likely to provide any warmth, but she had to at least feel as if she was doing something to preserve her health.
    Because Helen needs me. Grace turned to Harrison, who was slightly more visible now that they’d left the hollow. “What is to be done?”
    “We’ll have to leave the carriage, but if you’re fit for riding, we can find shelter. There are lights not too far distant.”
    Grace peered in the direction of his outstretched arm. Through the rain she thought she could make out the barest pinprick of light.
    “Are you quite certain?” she asked. “Is that still in England? It looks as if it might be across the Channel or on some other continent entirely.” In truth it could have been a star in the sky for all she could make out. But her head hurt, so her vision was beginning to blur. “I fear I am not