The Captain's Mysterious Lady Read Free Page B

turned to the others. Sam was climbing out, looking dazed but otherwise unhurt. Billings must have broken his neck; his head lolled at an unnatural angle and he was clearly dead. The coachman, who had been flung into the river, was climbing out, dripping wet weeds in his wake. James went to help him while Sam and the guard saw to the horses.
    One was clearly dead, another had struggled free and was in the river, swimming strongly for the other side. As soon as the other two had been released from the traces, one scram bled to its feet and galloped up the road in the direction from which they had come. The fourth, thoughclearly terrified, was unhurt and allowed itself to be led up on to the road. Once that was accomplished, everyone stood and surveyed the wreck. It was certainly not going to take them any further.
    â€˜Do you think those devils are behind us?’ the coachman queried, as James bent to tend to the young lady. She had a nasty bump on her temple, which would account for her passing out, but he could detect no broken bones. She would undoubtedly be bruised and sore when she regained her senses.
    â€˜No tellin’, is there?’ Sam said. ‘And they’d be no help, would they?’
    â€˜No, but the sooner we get away from here the better.’ He was trying to wring the water out of his wig, but it was a sorry mess and he gave up the idea of replacing it on his head and stuffed it in his equally wet pocket.
    â€˜How far is it to the nearest village?’ James asked, glad he had given up wearing a wig. Opportunities for having one cleaned and dressed were few and far between while he was chasing criminals all over the country, and now his own hair was so long and thick no wig would stay on it. Usually he tied it back with a narrow ribbon, but if he was dining out, he allowed Sam to roll a few curls round some stuffing and powder it.
    â€˜Highbeck’s four mile or thereabouts,’ the coachman said. ‘We’d ha’ bin calling there in any case.’
    â€˜Right, then I’ll ride the horse and take the young lady up in front. The rest of you can walk.’
    â€˜She’s out cold, she’ll not be able to hold on,’ Sam put in. ‘And the ’orse ain’t exactly quiet, is ’e?’
    â€˜I can steady it with one hand, if you tie her to me.’
    As no one had a better idea, this was done. He replaced his hat, which he had found in the wreckage of the coach, and mounted up, stilling the horse’s protests with calmwords and firm knees. Sam fetched a strap from the boot and tied it round the lady’s waist and lifted her up to him. He slipped the loop over his head and put his arm through it, cradling her to his side, inside his coat. ‘Right, she is secure enough. I’ll see you all at the inn.’ He picked up the reins and set the horse to walk.
    He could feel the warmth of her body through his shirt and realised it was the closest he had been to a woman since he had last held Caroline in his arms, the day he had waved her goodbye to go on his last voyage. He stifled the half-sob, half-grunt of anger that rose in his throat and looked down at the slight figure in his arms. Her head was nestling on his chest as if she knew she was safe, but her face was paler than ever. She should have started to come round by now, but she was still unconscious, though every now and again she gave a low moan and he prayed she had come to no lasting harm. He dared not make the horse hurry.
    Her escort was dead and could not be questioned now. Did that mean she was free of trouble? When she came to her senses, he would have to find out what was going on, who she was, where she came from, then restore her to her family. If she had a family. She had no means of identification on her, no luggage, no purse, nothing but the clothes she wore, now filthy and torn. He had been through Billings’s pockets, but he’d had nothing either, except a few