The Marriage Spell Read Free Page B

voices faded. Ransom’s face came into view again, looking white under his Spanish tan. Ashby’s face also appeared as he pressed a folded cloth against Jack’s skull to reduce the bleeding. Jack felt that. It hurt.
    Dancer no longer thrashed, but he was whickering in pain. Ransom leaped to his feet. “Damn that horse! I’ll get my pistol.”
    â€œNo!” Jack managed a raw whisper. “Don’t…kill Dancer. Not…his fault.”
    Ashby said sharply, “Stop, Ransom! Jack doesn’t want you to shoot Dancer. He just said so.” There were sounds of conflict, as if Ashby was physically restraining Ransom.
    â€œDamn you, Ashby!” If Jack hadn’t known it was impossible, he’d have said that Ransom sounded near tears. “That bloody beast threw Jack!”
    â€œIt looks as if Dancer landed on a weak patch of ground, over a badger hole maybe. An accident.” Ashby’s voice was soothing. “Jack will never forgive us if we have his favorite hunter put down unnecessarily.”
    â€œIt looks like Dancer has a broken leg,” Ransom said flatly. “It’s shoot him now or shoot him later. And soon enough, Jack won’t care.”
    Jack puzzled at the words. Did Ransom mean he was dying? Surely there would be pain if that was the case. But there was the problem with breathing….
    Fear cut through his dreamy vagueness and he tried with all his might to flex his hands, his feet, his fingers.
Nothing.
    He couldn’t move any part of his body below his neck. He was paralyzed, which meant that very soon he would be dead. No wonder Ransom and Ashby were upset.
    He had flirted with death for much of his life, alarming his friends with his reckless behavior. Not suicidal—he would never deliberately cause his own death. But he had thought that when the time came, probably on the field of battle, he would embrace the Grim Reaper with a certain amount of relief. Death was simple; life was not.
    Yet now that the time before his demise could be counted in minutes or hours, he realized that he didn’t want to die. He had problems in his life, but who didn’t? If he had tried to solve them rather than running away, they’d be solved by now. New problems would arise, but those could have been solved, too.
    Instead, in the name of honor and serving his country, he had run away from the duty he owed his name and family. He’d always thought there would be time enough for duty. One day he’d settle down and sort out his inheritance, but first there were battles to be fought and foxes to be chased. Which proved he was not only reckless but a fool.
    Ransom said in that flat voice, “We should notify his mother and sister.”
    â€œNot until the…the outcome is certain.” Ashby’s voice was so distant it was almost inaudible. “The wizard’s house is the closest. I’ve heard Barton is a good healer. If we take Jack there, maybe something can be done.”
    Ransom laughed bitterly. “You’ve lived a sheltered life if you think that any damned wyrdling can make a difference with this kind of injury.”
    â€œNonetheless, we will take him to Barton Grange. The grooms have brought a hurdle, so help me lift Jack onto it so we can carry him to the house.”
    Jack felt barely attached to his lifeless body as half a dozen pairs of hands moved him onto the hurdle. Bleakly he accepted that he was already dead—it was just a matter of time until breath and heart stopped. He’d spent his life heedlessly, like a gambler wasting his fortune, and now he must face the consequences.
    At least he wouldn’t have to return to Yorkshire except to be buried.
    As he slid into blackness, his last conscious thought was irritation that he was going to die in a damned wizard’s house.

Chapter
II
    A bby stared at her mortar and pestle, trying to remember why she was grinding cardamom pods. It