Page 32 of Rock Bottom
Chapter 6
The weather, which, up tothis point, had been cooperative, took a shift toward the inclement late in the afternoon, with storm clouds rolling in from the west.
Since Lucas’s clothes were en route to Stamford and he was essentially limited to what he was wearing and what few items he’d stuffed in his saddlebag, he opted to ride in the carriage with the others when the rain began in earnest. After a bit of shuffling, he ended up sitting next to Mr. Drake,facing the ladies, who were pressed closely together on the forward-facingseat.
It was not a spacious carriage.
The elderly Miss Weston was seated in the middle between the two other women.
“Otherwise,” the ever-grumpy-looking Miss Broome said, “I’ll be constantly bumping into you with all the jostling that’s bound to occur, Delia, and you’d be squashed like a bug against the side of the carriage, as sure as anything.”
As a result, Lavinia had ended up seated directly across from Lucas.
He’d much rather it be Lavinia than Miss Broome, who had only ever glared at him since they’d met. He could appreciate Miss Broome’s protective nature, especially after learning she’d essentially raised Lavinia, but, blast it all, she was making him feel like a villain when he was nothing of the sort. After all, who’d rushed into whose arms and begun this entire situation? Not he. He had been a perfect saint all night long—and would have been even if he’d known what an attractive guest he’d had—and perfectly amiable and gentlemanly the entire time since.
The downpour was making the roads muddy and slick; Lucas could feel the wheels of the carriage slip in the ruts along the way. The coachman, Grimes, had slowed the horses considerably as a result. Lucas had gotten his fill of mud during his time on the Peninsula—marching in mud, digging in mud, fighting the French in the mud. Blood and mud. Mud did not generate pleasant memories in his mind, but today’s mud meant something entirely different—it meant they would, of necessity, be adding extra time to their journey. And that was entirely fine with him.
He settled into his seat, with his shoulder resting in the corner of the carriage, then adjusted the brim of his hat to cover his eyes. He hadn’t slept well lying on the floor the night previous. He’d been too aware of the strange woman sharing the room, not to mention the hard floor.
He’d almost succeeded in nodding off when the carriage suddenly lurched to one side. His eyes shot open, and he instinctively braced himself. Old Arthur Drake nearly flew into Lucas’s lap; Miss Broome was thrown against Miss Weston, who cried out as she was crushed against Lavinia by the force of movement. Lavinia flung one arm against the side of the carriage and the other arm toward Miss Weston for balance.
The carriage rolled to a stop—upright, thankfully, but at a definite tilt. Not a good sign. Dealing with a carriage mishap in this weather meant trouble, especially when he could see that Miss Weston, contrary to the stoic look on her face, was in a great deal of pain.
“Goodness, is everyone all right?” Lavinia asked, pushing her bonnet back into place, while Miss Broome settled into her seat again and started fussing over Miss Weston.
“We all took quite a tumble there, Livvy,” Arthur Drake said, checking himself over, “but I daresay poor Delia got the worst of it.” He looked worriedly at Miss Weston.
“I’m fine, Arthur,” Miss Weston said, although her voice trembled a bit. When she attempted to shift into a more comfortable position, her eyes fluttered and she moaned.
“Delia!” Miss Broome cried.
Lucas caught Miss Weston just as she slumped forward in her seat. He eased back carefully, cradling the elderly woman in his arms.
“Here, let me help,” Mr. Drake said, gently arranging Miss Weston’s legs across Lucas’s lap so he could hold her more securely. Lavinia started fanning Miss Weston’s pale, wrinkled face with her hands.
The carriage door squeaked open. “Everyone all right in here?” Grimes asked. Water poured off the brim of his hat onto the shoulders of his greatcoat.
“No,” Lucas replied. “One of the women was injured in the mishap.”
“Dash it all. Was afraid something like that might have happened. You’re best off keeping her here in the carriage, guv, whilst I sees to the damage. We’ve a broken wheel, blast the luck and the weather.”
Lucas was inclined to agree with the coachmen’s assessment of the situation, including his colorful language.
“I’ve sent Garrick to the next town for assistance,” Grimes continued. “Biggleswade’s not too far from here—two or three miles, by my reckoning. Shouldn’t take long, him all alone on a horse, like. An hour or two at most.”
Mr. Drake began wringing his hands. “Oh dear,” he muttered. “Oh dear, oh dear.”
“All will be well, Artie,” Lavinia assured him. She was now fanning Miss Weston’s face with an actual fan Miss Broome had located somewhere. “We’ve been through worse. Look, she’s coming to. Delia, my dear, you gave us a scare. How are you feeling?”
Miss Weston had indeed opened her eyes just a bit. “Where am I?” she asked faintly. She laid a limp hand on her forehead as though in pain and then realized she was lying across Lucas’s lap. “Oh,” she said. “Mr. Jennings.” She reached up and patted his cheek, of all things, as though she was comfortinghim. When she tried to sit up straight, however, she moaned and looked as though she might faint again.
“Careful, now,” Lucas said. “I’ve got you steady, so there’s no need for you to move. Where does it hurt?”
“My neck, a bit,” she said weakly. “And my side.”
“Got you right in the ribs with my elbow, no doubt,” Miss Broome said. “I’m that sorry, Delia. I was supposed to be cushioningyou, not the other way around.”
“It takes more than an elbow to get me down, Hannah. I only need a moment to recover; you’ll see.” Delia wheezed out a chuckle, but the effort made her wince in pain.
