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Scott groaned, and his eyelids fluttered open as they moved him onto the cloak, but he fell right off again.
“Right then, you take the hem of my cloak, and I shall lift at this end, and we’ll get him to my curricle.”
This was a job that jostled and caused Scott a great deal of discomfort—he woke several times and then passed out again. They settled Scott into the back seat of the open curricle, and the large man said, “I think you had better sit beside him and keep him from falling.”
“Yes … I’ll just get our horses.” She rushed off, gathered hers and Scott’s horses, and tethered them at the boot.
Her new savior was behind her, helping her into the curricle, and she felt his strong hands at her waist. She turned to look up at his face. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet. He needs immediate attention. Where is your home?”
“Oh, we are too far from home. Is there not an inn nearby?”
“Aye, a mile or so back. The Andover,” he said grimly. “Keep him as steady as you can. He has already lost too much blood.”
Felicia held Scott as still as the movement of the curricle would allow as the stranger tooled his team and turned them around on the road. She could just see his profile from where she sat in the backseat beside Scott and wondered who he was.
Scott drifted in and out of consciousness, and her mind was a jumble of worry.
The self-assured man at the driving reins looked over his shoulder at her and suddenly asked, “What the deuce were you two doing at this hour on the open road … far from home?” With this question he shot her a quick, calculated look.
How was she to answer this?
She didn’t look at him. “We were on our way to London.” She decided for some truth.
“London? At such an hour … without a coach … or luggage?”
“Well … yes,” she answered and deci
ded not to offer anything more.
They arrived at the inn, and she watched with some awe as the stranger took command of the situation. He was most capable as he ordered the inn’s staff about and had a room prepared for Scott and the doctor fetched.
Two young grooms helped him get Scott situated in a bed, although the innkeeper’s wife wailed that the bed linens would be ruined with blood.
“Ruined? Aye, but we shall pay for their replacement. Now … have some hot water and clean rags brought at once.”
Pay? Pay for linens? Felicia thought as she mentally calculated what this would leave her and Scott between them. Then she watched as the tall and, now she could see fully by the candlelight, handsome man gingerly removed Scott’s upper garments.
“Ah, I do believe it hasn’t hit anything vital,” the stranger said.
The innkeeper’s wife came in with a tankard of hot water, neatly folded rags, and a basin. Their rescuer relieved her of these items and set them on the sideboard table beside the bed.
The innkeeper’s wife said, “Not good with wounds and blood …”
“You may leave us, but send the doctor up as soon as he arrives,” directed the stranger, and Felicia once again felt grateful for his presence.
Scott awoke and said hoarsely, “Flip …?”
“I’m here, darling, right here,” she said, holding his hand.
“Ah, girl. I’ve gone and done it, haven’t I? Ruined all our fine plans,” Scott said.
She touched his wet forehead lightly with a damp rag and quieted him. “Hush, Scott.”
“It was the highwaymen, you see …” he mumbled. He tried to raise his head and frowned. “Where the devil are we?”
Gently, she pushed him back down, aware, all too aware, that the tall and handsome stranger was watching very closely. “We are at the Andover Inn … and this gentleman has helped us and sent for the doctor.”
