Chapter 2 #2
The stone struck him squarely on the back of his head. He stumbled forward, then collapsed to the ground.
She turned back to the carriage. “Get down!” she yelled to her father. He was looking out the window, trying to see what was going on, but she did not want him to get out and put himself in the line of fire.
Fear in his eyes, he held her gaze for a moment, then withdrew inside the carriage, ducking out of sight.
Marie continued to fire stones precisely and deliberately. Another highwayman fell victim to her unexpected assault. Then she aimed at a third man, one of those who was still on his horse.
She did not want to hit the horse, so she concentrated hard on her aim. She felt a surge of satisfaction as she watched him fall from his horse and land on the ground. The horse remained unscathed. The poor animal was confused by the commotion around him, but at least he was unharmed.
The ringleader looked around in desperation. She fired again and again, trying to hit him, but he was in a panic now, rushing around trying to find his horse, and all the while searching for the person firing at them. But all he could see was an empty carriage and the frightened horses.
The remaining highwaymen seemed convinced that some supernatural force was thwarting their efforts, and they began to retreat.
They ran into the trees, shouting to one another in a frenzy, leaving the carriage and its occupants behind. Marie could not help feeling a hint of pride at the sight of them fleeing, their confidence shattered by her quick thinking and skill.
Perhaps, she thought, they would think twice about making another such attack on innocent travellers in the future.
As the dust settled, she cautiously approached the abandoned carriage, her heart pounding with fear about what she might find there. How quickly the day had transformed!
One moment, she was musing on her family’s obsession with her marital prospects, and the next, she was in the middle of a rescue mission.
Inside the carriage, she discovered a woman slumped on the seats in a faint. Her face was pale, and her eyes were closed, but Marie could tell from the rise and fall of her chest that she did not seem to be injured.
She jumped out of the carriage and walked around it. Much to her astonishment, she discovered an unconscious man lying on the ground, his eyes closed and blood seeping from a wound on the back of his head.
She could not help noticing that he was extremely handsome as she looked at him but pushed the thought from her head as best she could – now was not the time for such inappropriate musings.
She looked upwards to the driver’s seat and noticed him slumped against the side of the carriage. He appeared to have suffered injuries as well.
“Father!” Marie called, her voice tinged with urgency.
Edward emerged from the carriage, taking in the scene. “Marie! Are you alright?”
She nodded. “I am unhurt, but these people have not been so lucky.” She paused and glanced down at the man on the ground.
The blood was congealing in his brown hair, and she was worried that he might be on the brink of death. How had this happened? She did not remember aiming at him. Perhaps one of her shots had ricocheted from the carriage and hit him by mistake.
In all the confusion of the events that had taken place, she could not remember every detail of the last few minutes.
“We need to get them home,” Edward said, his expression serious. “We will talk about your wild actions later, but for now, they need medical attention.”
Marie nodded, her determination returning. It would not do for her to fall into a faint at the sight of blood when there were people who needed her help.
With the help of their own carriage driver, they carefully lifted the woman and the man, placing them gently in the carriage.
The driver was almost too heavy for them to move, but he began to regain consciousness slowly, and they helped him into their carriage, hoisting him onto the back seat with great effort.
Once everyone was safely ensconced in the carriage, Marie climbed in herself, her heart racing with fear and exhilaration.
Edward climbed in after her, having instructed the coachman to take them home, going as slowly as possible to avoid jolts but also being mindful of the need to get away from the crime scene as quickly as they could in case the highwaymen decided to stage another attack.
The coachman guided the horses back onto the road, and they set off. As they travelled, Marie couldn’t help glancing back at the injured strangers, wondering who they were and how they had come to be in such peril.
It wasn’t long before they arrived at their home, a cosy dwelling surrounded by lush gardens and towering trees.
“Mon Dieu, what has happened!” Sylvie exclaimed, rushing down the stairs to meet them in the hallway. “You look like you have been in a war!”
“Sylvie, do not worry, I am quite unharmed,” Marie said reassuringly. “But my father is in shock, I think. Perhaps you can call the others to come and help us? There are three people in the carriage who need medical help, and we need to get them inside.”
The household sprang into action, with all the servants coming to help move the young man, the older lady, and the coachman.
Soon, they were all settled in beds upstairs, and the physician had been called.
“Marie, there is nothing more we can do now. We will just have to wait and see what the physician says,” her father said.
She nodded. “Come and sit down; let me get you a drink.”
They went into the drawing room, and she poured her father a glass of whisky from the decanter on the sideboard, then went to sit down next to him.
He took the glass from her with a smile. “I do not know what to say to you, Marie,” he murmured after a sip. “You should have obeyed my instructions when I told you not to get out of the carriage. Anything could have happened to you, and I cannot imagine living without you.”
“I could not sit there and do nothing, Father!” Marie said. She wondered for a moment if her father would be disapproving if she poured herself a drink.
Bravado aside, her nerves were jangled by what had happened. She got up and poured herself a small glass of whisky, her father watching with a raised eyebrow, then returned to her seat.
She took a sip of the amber liquid, feeling it burn as it went down her throat. “I wonder who they are,” she mused. “I thought we knew everyone who lived around here, but I did not recognize the lady or the gentlemen.”
“Nor I,” Edward replied. “We must simply pray to God that they and their coachman all come out of this unscathed.”
As they waited, Marie felt a mixture of worry and anticipation. She had never been in a situation quite like this, and the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on her shoulders. These strangers were in their home injured, possibly fatally. And she had no idea who they were.
After what felt like an eternity, there was a soft knock on the door, and a footman entered, bringing the physician with him.
Her father stood up. “What news?” he asked anxiously.
“You can relax, Mr Stanhope,” the physician replied with a kind smile. “I think they are all out of danger.”
Marie let out a sigh of relief and sensed her father doing the same.
“The lady has recovered from her faint. One of the maids will stay with her overnight to check that she does not deteriorate, but I think that once she has had a good night’s sleep, she will be fine,” the physician explained.
“And the coachman?” Edward asked.
“He is down in the kitchen now, having something to eat. He has a slight cut on his arm, and he did bang his head quite hard, but he will be fully recovered soon, I am sure of it.”
“What of the gentleman?” Marie enquired.
She hardly dared to ask, and the memory came back to her of his pale face on the ground and the blood seeping from the wound on his head.
It was all her fault that he had been injured, and she was not sure she could bear it if he were permanently damaged or, worse, dead.
“He’s still unconscious,” the physician answered, his brow furrowed. But the wound is no longer bleeding, so I think we can relax a little, and we’ll need to see how deep that wound is in the morning.”
“So you think he will live?” Marie said.
The physician nodded. “Miss Stanhope, I promise you that he will live.”
She exhaled sharply – she had not even realized that she had been holding her breath, waiting for the physician to tell her the man’s fate. “Thank goodness for that.”
“Indeed,” the physician nodded. “Now, Mr Stanhope, I will leave you to inform the authorities what has happened. These highwaymen are a scourge in our society, and perhaps they can be caught if you and your daughter can provide enough information about them.”
“Indeed,” Edward said. “I shall send a man out now with a message to fetch the constable.”
The physician took his leave, promising to return early in the morning to check on his patients or sooner if word was sent to him that there had been any deterioration.
“Marie, you must go to bed,” Edward said, glancing at the clock in the hall. “It is late, and tomorrow we will have much to do to look after our unexpected guests.”
“But Father, I should stay with you and speak to the constable,” Marie protested, although she felt herself almost dropping with tiredness.
“No, you must go to bed. I will tell them what happened, and in the morning, you can give them your version of events.” Her father paused and looked at her with a wry smile.
“I am not sure quite how you are going to explain your insistence on bringing that slingshot with you everywhere you go, though. It is not the most ladylike of things to carry with you!”
“But aren’t you glad I had it with me?” Marie replied archly.
“I am glad you are safe, my dear,” Edward said. “That is all that matters to me.” He drew her into his arms, and she relaxed into his embrace and then drew away.
“I will do as you say and go to bed,” she replied, “but please, Father, you must make sure that you get some rest too.”
“Do not worry about me,” Edward said. “Now, ring for Sylvie and get yourself upstairs!”
Marie obeyed her father, and soon, she was in her chamber with her maid, telling her the whole story of what had happened that day.
“I cannot imagine who he is!” she said as Sylvie stood behind her, brushing out her long, dark hair with smooth, rhythmic strokes.
“Well, Mademoiselle, I suppose we shall find out in the morning!” Sylvie replied, catching her eye in the mirror and grinning.
Marie frowned. “Do not look at me like that, Sylvie. I know what you are thinking. I simply want to know who he is and to be sure that he is fully recovered, that is all.”
Sylvie giggled. “Whatever you say, Mademoiselle!”