The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(223)

As he trudged onwards through the storm, looking for any sign of life, he wondered what his options were. The last village they had passed had been several miles back.



If memory served correctly, the next village was about the same distance away. Even if John rode like the hounds of Hell were after him, it would take him several hours to get there and back. It had to be nearly four in the afternoon now.



It was hard to tell with it so overcast and no sign of the sun anywhere, but he knew night was coming quickly on this, the shortest day of the year. The soonest John could be back would be about seven, even assuming he could find anyone to help him in this appalling weather. Even assuming that he made it that far.



So he would have to keep everyone warm and dry for at least another three hours.



Or overnight? It didn't bear thinking about.



But thus far nothing had come up and down the road in either direction. The next mail coach from Bristol or London would not be due until tomorrow. He was on his own so far as he could tell.



A mound in the snow with some dark fabric peeping from underneath sent Blake running up the road as fast as he could given the gale blowing.



He guessed it was the driver from the whip frozen in his hands. Blake uncovered his face and neck. Broken.



He said a quick prayer for the repose of his soul, and covered his face with his muffler as a sign of respect.



He took a handful of snow to quench his raging thirst, and trudged on, feeling more dispirited with every stride. Another two minutes, struggling every step of the way, located the postillion, who was just off the road under a tree. He was half-buried, blue with cold, and with one leg at an unnatural angle.



"I'm a doctor," Blake said, wrapping the blankets around him and thrusting the water bottle into his shivering arms. "I'll look after you. I need to splint this leg and get you back to my carriage."



He wrapped both of the blankets around him, and gave him some snow to eat.



"H-h-h-how are the others?" he chattered.



"The driver's dead, I'm afraid, but your two passengers are still alive."



"That poor girl?" he asked.



"Not too bad. It's the man I fear for. Now come, no more talking. Try to rest. I need to go look for some branches."



He groped around under the trees in the fluffy powder and eventually found a pair that were long and stout enough to serve. He had some rolls of bandages, but not enough to immobilize the leg fully.



He sighed and quickly stripped off his clothes, removing his shirt for its cotton. He hastily donned his waistcoat and jacket once more, and finally his greatcoat and scarf. The snow on his bare chest made him shiver, and the wind raked at his bare throat as he worked.



"Here, hold these for me."



The young man did as he was told, positioning the branches on either side of the leg. "What's your name?"



"James, sir."



"Well, James, brace your back against the tree and hold on."



He set the bone and quickly lashed the rolls of bandages around it to hold it in place. Then he wrapped his shirt around it and his stock, and nodded.



"It will do until we get back to civilization. Come on, I'll help you up."



He gathered James up and slung one of his arms over his shoulder. James wrapped the traveling rugs around them both, and kept the still-warm ceramic hot water bottle between them as they struggled back to the site of the wreck. The wind blew so violently sideways that at times it threatened to sent them sprawling into the drifts.



Blake slid around trying to keep his footing and not injure his patient any further. The wind and snow stung every exposed part of his body. He could barely see as the white swirled all around. But the thought of the lovely girl waiting for him, the injured man needing his help, drove him on.



At last he could see the outline of the two carriages. They lunged forward and struggled the rest of the way to Blake's coach. He put James safely into it, placing the foot warmers on either side of his feet in the middle of the floor and wrapping him in the blankets securely.



"Sit here and try to stay warm. Have a dig around and see what sort of useful things you can find, food and so on. The inn packed a basket for me but I didn't even look in it. I need to go out and find more wood and cloth for the other man. Then I'll need your help getting the others out of the wrecked coach."



James nodded. "I'll do what I can."



"Good lad. I'll be back soon."



Blake plunged back into the storm and went up to his own luggage rack. He lowered the bags to the ground but left them for the moment. Clothes could wait. The storm was getting worse. He needed more important things than that.