“It’s just a lane,” Littletree said gloomily. “Not much along it. Just the back way to the hall.”
“I’ll walk to the house to fetch help, then. It’s not that far if I take the path up through the gardens.”
“No, my lady, I should go,” he protested.
“Don’t be silly. You have had a shock, and you’re in no shape to climb a hill. Sit here and wait. I’ll send grooms back with a wagon for you. They can find the horses, too.”
Laura shivered as she walked, the pleasant breeze now cold through her wet clothes. Her hair had come loose, straggling wetly all over the place. She pulled out the remaining hairpins and squeezed out the water, thinking yearningly of a long warm bath. And a cup of hot tea. Another shudder shook her.
As she started over the bridge, she heard the sound of a vehicle and team. She swung back around, wondering if the team, running loose, had turned to head home. If so, they were still moving at a rapid clip. But it was a different team that charged around the curve, a foursome of grays pulling a two-seater barouche. The driver was Lord Montclair.
“Graeme!” Laura cried, and hurried toward the carriage, waving her arms.
He was already pulling back on the reins, and when he drew to a stop, he dropped them and leapt down from the vehicle. “Laura! My God, what happened?”
Only seconds behind him, Abby got out of the carriage. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” Laura said quickly. “It’s Littletree who’s hurt.” She pointed toward the coachman sitting on the bank.
At the sight of Graeme, the man shoved himself up to his feet and reached his hand up to sweep off his hat before realizing it was long gone. Instead, he bobbed his head respectfully. “My lord.”
“Littletree!” Graeme strode over to him. “You’re injured. Sit down, man, no reason to stand on ceremony. Here’s a nice boulder.” He guided the man toward a large rock.
“What happened?” Abby asked. “We came upon the carriage overturned. Mirabelle feared it was Aunt Tessa’s.”
Mirabelle climbed down from the carriage, as well, albeit more slowly, her face creased with worry. “Is Tessa all right?”
“Tessa’s fine,” Laura reassured her. “I was the only one in the carriage. We started down the hill, but something happened to the brake, and the horses ran.”
“It was Binky, my lord; he took off,” Littletree hastened to explain. “I think a bee must have stung him. He started running, and of course Biscuit joined him. I had the brake slipper on, but the chain snapped. You know how it is on a hill like that.”
“Of course,” Graeme agreed. “Even if the brake had held, it couldn’t stop a runaway team. I’m sure you did everything you could, Littletree.” He glanced at Laura. “Were you thrown out here at the river?”
“We jumped when we reached the bridge,” Laura explained. “I thought it would be a softer landing than crashing on the curve.”
“Indeed. Quick thinking,” Graeme said approvingly. “The carriage wound up on its side and lost a wheel. You two might have been killed if you were still in it.”
A violent shiver ran through Laura, only partially from the cold.
“Here,” an imperious female voice said, and Laura turned to see that Graeme’s grandmother, the dowager Countess of Montclair, had joined them. She draped a carriage rug around Laura’s shoulders. “No need to stand about freezing.”
“Thank you,” Laura said in a heartfelt voice, and remembered to give the older woman a little curtsey in greeting. Lady Eugenia was a stickler for courtesy.
“The horses, sir,” Littletree said to Graeme, his expression pleading. “Are they all right?”
“Yes, yes,” Graeme hastened to assure him. “They looked in decent shape. In a lather of course and standing there looking quite lost, but I didn’t see any cuts, and neither seemed to be limping. I left Barrow to look after them, and I drove us on to see what had happened to the people in the vehicle. Thank heavens you were all right.”
“Barrow.” Clearly the idea of Montclair’s coachman seeing to the team lifted much of the weight from Littletree’s shoulders. “That’s good. Thank you, my lord.”
“Now,” Abigail said firmly, “I think it’s time we took these two home and got them cared for.”
“Oh, yes,” Mirabelle agreed, putting her arm around Laura’s waist and leading her toward the carriage.
The others followed. The dowager countess seemed rather taken aback when she realized that Graeme was putting the injured coachman into the carriage with the ladies—as, indeed, did Littletree himself—but Graeme quelled whatever she was about to say with a firm look. Abigail wedged herself into the seat with Laura and Littletree so that the two older women had the forward-facing seat to themselves.