Page 142 of His Duchess in Disguise
“I did. It was vile, and I thought I would choke. Fortunately, that horrible bag isn’t waterproof, and all the liquid leaked out before I could drown. I couldn’t help it, though. Every time that horse came down on its hooves, it felt as if it was punching me right in the stomach.”
“Let me clean you up,” Mary said. “I think you’ve had the worst of it.”
Mary poured a little of the water in the basin, took up one of the rough pieces of cloth and began to brush the worst of the mess away from Emma’s face and out of her hair. “I can’t see to do a very good job of cleaning you up, but I’ll do my best.”
“Just being upright is helping. Thank you, Mary. Get the worst off, and then let’s see to you.”
Carefully, mistress and maid mopped away the worst of the blood and grime from each other. Although bruised and weary, neither of them had been hit by any of the flying bullets.
Remembering what she had been told about what should be in a sheep shed, Emma opened the big wooden box that stood in the corner of the rude structure. As she had hoped, it held blankets, a tin cup, some lucifers and container of cracked grain and even a firmly stoppered earthen jar of some sort of dried meat.
Emma quickly pocketed the waxed lucifers and divided the dried meat with Mary. Her maid lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head toward the men’s voices outside, but Emma shook her head and gently touched the maid’s lips with her fingers. Mary nodded. This way, the men would not know that they had any provisions.
The water in the bucket smelled and tasted clean, so they each had a cupful. Emma had the small comb that she always carried in her pocket. She and Mary both used it to tidy their hair. There was nothing that could be done about the blood on their clothing.
As they worked, there came the sound of a horse departing. After a time, there was the scent of woodsmoke and roasting meat. No one came to offer them any food, however. After a time, Emma took the blankets from the box and hid them behind the mound of hay. Mary saw what she was doing and nodded her comprehension. They would not let the men outside know that they had found anything of any worth.
The two ladies explored the rest of the hut, looking for loose boards, holes in the earth, or any means of escape. But the hut was built to contain sheep and goats, as well as to keep out predators. It was well maintained, without even a hole that would have allowed Rags to slip through.
Rags! Emma remembered the sharp yelp she had heard just before she saw Leo. She redoubled her efforts to find a way out, digging with her hands at the base of the wall. She found a solid foundation beneath the hay and sheep droppings.
At last, they both had to admit defeat. There was no opening that would allow them to slip out. They would have to rest and hope that they could get a later opportunity Emma and Mary nestled together for warmth as the early summer evening began to be chill. At length, they slept.
Chapter 41
Leo came to with something wet, warm, and smelling of dog breath being swiped along the side of his head. The washing was interspersed with whimpering and shoves from a cold little nose. “Rags!” Leo lifted his hand to the little dog.
Rags made a comforting small dog noise, and snuggled against Leo’s neck, continuing to wash the side of his face with a sloppy, wet tongue. A moment passed, then there were hoofbeats and the sound of a man’s boots.
“Great gods and little fishes,” a man’s voice swore. “What happened here?”
Rags left Leo’s side and ran toward the voice, setting up a glad barking. “Hey, there little fella. Is that your master over there? I’m not going to hurt him. Easy, now. It’s all right.”
Footsteps crunched in the grass, and the man knelt beside Leo. Gentle fingers examined him, and a damp cloth mopped away something that was caked unpleasantly on the side of his head. Leo winced as the cloth hit an area that was beginning to ache abominably.
“Your Grace! I did not recognize you under the blood.”
“Water?” Leo rasped.
“Here.” The man held a flask to his lips. The water was warm but wet and reasonably fresh.
Leo struggled to sit up, but the man pressed him back. “Lie still, Your Grace. They did not manage to crack your skull, but the bullet creased you, and there is a good chance that you have a concussion. At the very least, you have lost a great deal of blood. Let me see to the others.”
In a few minutes, the man returned, helping someone to sit down beside Leo. “There you are, Your Grace,” a different voice said. Leo realized it was Hamilton.
“The coach boys and the driver?”
“The driver is dead, Your Grace. The messenger is looking for the others. We hope that they were thrown clear when the coach lost the wheel.”
“How did you escape?”
“Good fortune and a highwayman who doesn’t know anatomy, I think.” Hamilton grimaced.
It was then that Leo realized that Hamilton was only using one arm. Leo struggled up to a sitting position. “I think you are in worse shape than I, my friend. That wound looks as if you took a shot in the chest.”
“Something like. I think the shot that was intended for my heart broke my collarbone, and they shot me in the knee for the fun of it. Two years on the continent, and I’d not been treated so cruelly.”
“Emma?”
