Page 20 of The Scarred Lyon

Patrick shook his head. “The splinter bar and harness gave way. Midnight was loose, but Dawn tumbled with the carriage. I found him, standing near the carriage. I don’t know the various parts of a horse, but I believe he has a sprain between his knee and hoof. The leg is not broken, as far as I can tell.”

Duncan felt a tightening in his chest. “And Briggs?”

“I could not find him, not at first glance. I believe he was thrown clear, as I was. Where he landed, I know not.”

“We must find him.”

Augusta gasped and stepped forward, crying out as she put weight on her foot. He ran to her and dropped to his knees. With his free hand, he felt along her ankle. “Does that hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t think it’s broken. It might be a sprain,” Augusta replied shakily.

Duncan stood. “I have to see to Dawn and find Briggs. We will check your ankle afterward. Do not put any pressure on it.”

Patrick pointed to his shoulder. “You cannot climb out of the carriage. Not with that.”

“We have no time to waste,” Duncan replied, determined.

“Then lie on your stomach. We’ve done this before, more than once.” Patrick began massaging Duncan’s injured shoulder as Duncan grimaced in pain. Patrick braced his knee against Duncan’s shoulder and pulled.

Then he heard the decided pop sound, and he cried out. “Damn and blast it!”

Patrick assisted him in standing. “You will need to put that in a sling.”

“Later.”

With Patrick’s help, they climbed out of the carriage into the cold, stinging rain that felt like needles. It wasn’t just rain; ice was mixed in. “Look for Briggs. I will tend to Dawn.”

Duncan lowered to his haunches, running the tips of his fingers along Dawn’s leg. He found it, on the cannon, between the knee and the hoof, as Patrick said. A decided warmth and slight swelling. When Duncan touched the area, Dawn snorted and jerked his leg. Thank God the horse wasn’t injured worse.

“Duncan! I found him!”

Duncan took part of the rein still attached to Dawn and looped it around a tree. Then he followed Patrick’s voice to the other side of the wreckage. Patrick pointed to the ground. A gloved hand extended outward from beneath the smashed carriage.

Dear God. The carriage had fallen on Briggs. How bloody awful.

Patrick felt for a pulse. He shook his head in dejection. “We can only hope his death was swift and merciful,” he said in a low voice.

“We have to extricate Briggs. We cannot leave him there,” Duncan yelled, trying to be heard over the howling wind and thunder.

Together, they lifted part of the carriage enough to slide Briggs free. The poor man looked like a broken doll.

“His neck is broken,” Patrick observed sadly. “Death was indeed swift.”

“Thank God he didn’t suffer. I will fetch the tarp from the rear of the carriage, and we will wrap him in it.” Duncan ran to the back of the carriage, where he found their trunks smashed and their clothes and belongings floating in the mud. Cursing, he untied the tarp that had covered the trunks and returned to Patrick.

Silently and reverently, they laid Briggs on the tarp and secured it. There was no time to mourn his coachman. Not now. “Let’s head back to the carriage. We need to discuss what to do next,” Duncan suggested.

Once inside, Duncan immediately attended to Augusta. He unlaced her boot, removed it, then gently rotated her ankle as she inhaled. “Not broken. There’s a mercy. But it’s already starting to swell. As you said, a sprain.” Duncan removed the laces from the boot and slipped it back onto her stocking foot.

“Mr. Briggs?” Augusta asked as he stood.

“He did not make it. We found him beneath the carriage,” Duncan replied solemnly. Damn and blast, what a loss. This accident was his fault. If only he hadn’t insisted they leave. They should have stayed another day, regardless of the inconvenience to others. Yet another death on his already battered conscience. First, his cousin, Jon, then his uncle, who died of a broken heart, and now Briggs.

Augusta cried out, her hand clamped over her mouth. “Oh, that poor man. Did he have any family?”

“As far as I know, he was taken in by my uncle as an orphan. We will see that he receives a proper burial. But first, we need to plan our escape from this perilous situation. Dawn has a sprain. Patrick, you said Midnight is uninjured?”

“As far as I could tell. I was lucky to catch him, since he was clearly spooked by the accident. Midnight ran free before the carriage slid and tumbled down the embankment. That was what saved me, as I held his reins and was thrown forward. There was nothing Briggs could do to prevent the disaster. The front wheel and the axle shattered into shards, as did the rear one.” Patrick shook his head sadly. “Briggs did his best to minimize the damage. Only his deft handling of the carriage saved us all from being killed.”