Page 19 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
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Edward left the stable yard when the sun showed signs of slipping in the sky. He’d spent the whole day watching over the grooms’ and jockeys’ work, not only with the horses owned by himself and his father but the horses they were training for the king, too. Each animal was coming on in great strides, and even the two rare Marwari horses that had just begun their training were settling in well.
Pulling himself into the saddle of his well-trained black steed, he turned the animal back towards the streets of London. After the hard day’s work, he had taken off his tailcoat and flung it across the front of the saddle with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows.
There was a thin gleam of sweat on his neck, though he didn’t mind. He loved these hard days, and seeing the success the horses were making in their races was worth the effort.
Soon, when the racing season began in earnest, he’d be able to see the fruits of his labour properly.
To avoid the busiest stretches of London, he headed through the quieter roads that led towards the west bank and close to his father’s estate. So few people knew about these back roads that there was scarcely a soul upon them. Still on the edge of the countryside, sycamore and oak trees stretched high overhead, their new green leaves shimmering in the last light of the day.
As he rode on, he nodded his head at passing farmers who walked on foot. At one point, he passed an elderly couple who shook their heads between them. They acknowledged him, nodding back, but continued their conversation, clearly caught up in the excitement of having just witnessed something.
“A wonder they are not dead,” the elderly lady muttered to the man beside her. “Never seen a carriage ride in such a way.”
“I daresay you’re right.” The man nodded, his wrinkled jowls shaking with the movement. “It’ll be a wonder if there is no accident.”
The couple smiled when they saw Edward, and he returned the gesture, bowing his head to them and riding on, now curious as to their conversation. He rounded two more bends before he discovered the reason.
At the side of the road, half upturned in a ditch, was a carriage. The small vehicle was practically on its left side on the opposite ditch bank. A tree had fallen half upon the carriage, its branches covering the door, and the one horse that was pulling the cart was now trying its best to get back up the bank, whinnying loudly and practically screeching.
The driver was nowhere to be seen, and there was only an empty seat, though judging by the fact one of the wheels of the carriage was still spinning, the accident could not have happened long ago.
“God’s wounds,” Edward muttered. He jumped down from his horse and hastened to the other. Well-practiced, he took hold of the harness that connected the animal and unbuckled it fast. The horse shot away, darting back up the bank. Skittish and upset, it cantered around the road, moving back and forth, unable to stay still as it thrashed its head from side to side. “Woah. Woah, boy.”
Edward advanced, about to calm the animal, when he heard a heavy thud in the carriage behind him. Spinning around fast on his heel, he saw the door attempt to move against the tree branch, but it merely shuddered in its frame. Someone groaned from within.
“Hallo there?” Edward called to the carriage and hurried towards it. “Is someone in there?”
“Yes!” an impatient voice called from inside.
“What happened here?”
“What do you think?” the voice called again. “A merry journey, isn’t it?”
It was as if the words had struck Edward clean across the face, not only the amused sarcasm but the unmistakable tone.
It’s not possible. Surely, it cannot be.
“Wait there, I’ll get you out.” Edward pulled at the tree, determined to see who was inside, but the branch was too heavy and impossible to move alone.
His eyes darted to the horses. The one that had been pulling the carriage was impossible to tame now, wild and galloping about so much it was in danger of spooking Edward’s own horse.
“Are you injured?” Edward called to the woman inside that carriage, determined to hear her again, wanting to be certain that there could be no mistake and that she was indeed who he thought she was.
He reached for his horse and pulled him over to the tree, taking the reins and wrapping them to the loose harness now freed from the carriage.
“No,” the lady called. “Just bumped and bruised, but I cannot get out.”
“It will not be long.”
“I sent the driver to get help,” she said, her voice softer. “He rode so fast.”
Edward latched the back of the harness to the tree branch and then slapped his horse on the rump. The horse snorted and whinnied, then cantered forward. With some difficulty, the tree began to move. Edward helped, pushing with all his might against the other side of the tree and having to clamber over the side of the carriage to get it done.
The tree slid off and onto the floor, the branches crumpling and snapping loudly in the air. The horse snorted when the job was done and fell still, looking back at his work with his ears flicking forward, clearly knowing he had done a good job.
Edward hurried to stand and reached over the fallen carriage, flinging open the door as he peered inside the darkness, but it was too shaded to see who was inside.
