Chapter Nineteen
J ust as the words were out of his mouth, still hanging in the air, a flash of lightning lit the sky outside. A deafening crash exploded. Followed by the high-pitched whinnying of the horses. The carriage swung to the left, sending Malcolm tumbling on top of Adeline. He scrambled off her. “Are you all right?”
The carriage skidded sideways. Bosely’s voice rang out. “Hang on!” In the next second, they hit something with a resounding crash. Adeline slid across the seat into him, and he grasped her around the waist to keep her from falling onto the floor. A loud crack followed, and the entire carriage tipped drunkenly.
He sucked in a deep breath.
This time, Adeline was the one to ask, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, you?”
She nodded. “What’s happened?”
“I’ll find out.” Malcolm reached out and opened the door. “Wait inside.”
When he climbed out, the first thing he could see through the driving rain was that both horses were rearing, fighting their harnesses as fear overtook them.
“Whoa, Whoa.” He approached the horse closest to him, trying to modulate his tone while still projecting over the storm. Bosely wasn’t in the box, and Malcolm looked frantically around. On the opposite side of the carriage was a large tree trunk on the road, which must have been what they had crashed into. From behind the massive trunk, Mr. Bosely rose to his feet, swayed, and then steadied himself by grabbing hold of one of the branches.
“All right, Mr. Bosely?” Malcolm called out.
“Yeah, knocked my head, but I’m up.”
Malcolm reached out to grab hold of the lead from the nearest horse, and once he got the horse’s head turned to look at him, he slowly approached and laid a hand on its forehead. It whinnied and shook its head at first, but Malcolm kept eye contact and stroked down its muzzle. As the horse calmed, its pair seemed to take the cue and stopped pulling and shaking its head. Malcolm came to stand between the two, speaking soothing nonsense as the rain poured over them.
The wind died down, and though it still rained, the storm’s ferocity appeared to have moved past them. A flash of purple moved through his peripheral vision. Adeline hurried past him toward Mr. Bosely. With both horses calmer, Malcolm walked around the carriage to assess the damage. As he suspected, the rear wheel had crashed into the tree and was broken clear off. They wouldn’t be going any farther with this conveyance. Damn it!
He rounded the fallen tree to join Adeline and Bosely. Adeline held a handkerchief to Bosely’s temple.
“It’s all right, Lady Amberley. It’s only a scratch.” Bosely looked pale, and he cradled one arm with the other.
“What happened, Bosely?”
“Lightning struck this here tree right in front of us. The horse reared, and the tree come crashing down across the road. It all happened in the blink of an eye.”
“And you were thrown? Is that arm injured?”
Bosely nodded. “I fell on it wrong for sure, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“None of this is your fault.” Malcolm pushed a hand back through his wet hair. “Adeline, what are you doing out here? You’re going to be soaked.”
“I saw that Mr. Bosely needed help, and I came to help. I am not so delicate I can’t get wet.”
Bosely took the handkerchief from her hand. “Thank you, milady. I think it has stopped bleeding.”
Adeline peered up at the cut on Mr. Bosely’s head, then seemed satisfied that it was indeed all right. She stepped back. “So, what’s next?”
“The wheel has cracked off. We will have to walk, I think. Any idea where we are, Bosely?”
The man shook his head. But Adeline looked around. “How long have we been on the road since this morning?”
Malcolm pulled out his watch fob. Flicking it open, he checked the time—almost noon. “Two hours and forty minutes.”
“All right then, we are about”—her nose scrunched up as she calculated—“three or four miles from Andover. I have come this way dozens of times. We always stop in Andover to change horses.”
“Feeling steady enough to walk, Mr. Bosely? Otherwise, we can leave you here with the horses, and I’ll return for you.”
“No sir, I’m fine.”
“Then let’s get them unhitched.” He turned to Adeline. She was indeed soaked. Her spectacles were splattered with moisture, and her dark eyelashes blinked against the raindrops still falling fast. “Adeline, go get your bonnet on. At least it will keep the rain off your face.”
She nodded and walked back toward the carriage. As she tried to clamber inside, the whole thing creaked ominously. Malcolm raced over. The other back wheel sank into the mud, tipping the carriage precariously close to the ditch where rainwater quickly rose. Adeline lost her balance and her grip on the wet door handle. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him as the carriage slipped back another foot.
Adeline fought against his hold, reaching out in front of her. “No, my bag. I must get my bag.” She kicked her legs. “Why are you always manhandling me?”
Despite everything, he chuckled. “You are so small it is easy to do. But truly, I just saved you from falling backward into the mud. It’s not safe to climb into the carriage.” He set her down on her feet.
She huffed. “Can you save my bag, at least? I cannot leave it behind.”
“Your books will stay drier if you leave them inside the carriage.”
“Please?” Adeline looked up at him with wide eyes, her hands clasped under her chin.
Malcolm sighed. Why did she have to be so damn adorable? Christ, he was wild about her. Everything from the furrow between her brow when she was thinking to the delicious press of her lips against his. From the way her soft curves fit perfectly against his body to the straightforward way she spoke, no coyness, no games. He was an absolute fool for her.
Malcolm picked her up, moved her aside, and then put a foot on the bottom stair, testing the vehicle’s sturdiness. It did not slide farther. He reached in and grabbed her bag from the floor. Passing it back to Adeline, he turned back to stretch farther in and managed to seize both of their hats from the bench seat. He stepped back off the stairs and shoved his hat on his head, glad for the brim that deflected most of the rain off his face.
Adeline stood, clutching her giant carpet bag to her chest. “Thank you.”
He nodded, placed her bonnet on her head, and tied the ribbons under her chin. Then he gently removed her spectacles, wiped them off with a handkerchief from his pocket, and placed them back on her nose. “Better?”
She nodded.
“Ready for more adventure?”
A wry half-smile bloomed. “I don’t suppose I have a choice, do I?”
“Let’s get your trunk.”
By the time Malcolm unhitched the horses, tied his leather satchel and Adeline’s carpet bag together to sling over one the horse’s backs, and used the length of linen from his cravat to fashion a sling for Bosely’s injured arm, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle.
Adeline stood next to her trunk. “You take one end, and I’ll take the other,” she said.
“Perhaps we should leave it behind?” he said gently. She would never be able to carry it several miles.
“Nonsense. I may be small , but I am sturdier than I look. I can take half.” She picked up her side and sent him an imperious look.
Malcolm shrugged and picked up his end. Leading the second horse with the other hand. Their little band of rain-soaked travelers headed down the road.