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“I hope to God I haven’t killed her,” he muttered as he ducked low and looked under the wheels of his carriage. He checked the verge on either side of the road but couldn’t see any sign of her there either. His concern grew as he studied the blanketing fog. Stunned, he began to widen his search and walked back down the road. He didn’t have to go too far before she emerged out of the gloom; a small bundle of clothing lying supine in the middle of the road, her arms and legs twisted at unnatural angles.
“Good God,” he whispered in horror. He hurried toward her and dropped to his knees. Before he could decide what to do, a whinny from his horses made him look up. The fog was so thick that he could barely see his curricle in the darkness. He knew from the way the horses were dancing about that they would be easy to spook now if anything else scared them. He, and the woman at his side, would then be left stranded in the middle of nowhere.
“I won’t be a minute,” he whispered to her even though he suspected she couldn’t hear him. Talking to her made him feel calmer right now. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t answer.
He quickly retraced his steps and put the brake
on to stop the horses dragging his curricle anywhere easily. Aware of each passing second he lost, Myles took a moment to soothe his horses until they had calmed down enough for him to be confident they wouldn’t bolt. He then snatched a blanket off the back, and ran back down the road.
“Hello?” he called as he knelt beside her. It was too dark to see her features clearly, but he had a gut-wrenching jolt that shocked him to his very core when he leant over her and caught a brief glimpse of fine features he recognised instantly.
“Oh, no,” he murmured. “Not you. Oh, no, no, no, no.”
He closed his eyes on a silent prayer that it wasn’t her but knew deep down inside that it was. The memory of the last time he had seen her, so vibrant and full of life, shimmered before him like an elusive wisp, teasing him of the life he had put in danger. It was horrifying. As if to deny it, his gaze fell to her supine form but he knew that he had just run over Estelle.
“Estelle?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”
He studied her limbs for cuts, or bones twisted at unnatural angles, or any blood seeping out onto the road. It was difficult to decide whether not seeing anything untoward was a good sign or not.
“Estelle?” He shook her shoulder as gently as he could, his concern growing the more time that passed without any kind of response. He touched the back of her cheek and winced. His worry increased tenfold. She was so cold he knew she was in danger of being ill from it if he didn’t do something quickly. “Estelle?” He cried in a voice that was full of the urgency that pummelled him.
What was she doing in the Whispering Woods? What on earth is she doing out on a night like this?
All sorts of unanswered questions flew through his mind as he unfolded the blanket and draped it over her.
“I have to move you,” he whispered, unsure if she could hear him. “I am sorry.”
Seconds later, with her wrapped in the blanket, Myles strode toward his curricle. Still holding her, he climbed awkwardly aboard and settled her on his lap. With her clamped firmly against his chest, he gathered the reins up. He was about to move away when something else in the road captured his attention. He froze and stared at it.
Was that a light? No, there are several lights.
He scowled into the darkness and waited. Sure enough, several lights slowly became visible through the swirling mist and trees. To his consternation, there was no noise and, as far as he could see, nobody holding the lights either.
“What in the Devil’s name is that?” he murmured. He glanced down at Estelle. “Was that what scared you?”
He knew it was. He contemplated what to do now. The village was not too far away. He could take her there, to the doctor’s house if he could find him. But Myles knew that his house was closer. Estelle needed to lie down, especially if she had broken something, and preferably away from people like that who lurked in fog in the middle of the night.
Decision made, he threw one last curious look at the lights and flicked the horses on. If he was honest, he was shaken by what he had just witnessed, almost as much as he had been watching Estelle disappear beneath the curricle’s wheels.
By the time they reached the end of the road, a strange feeling of unease had settled over him. He had a distinct impression that something was wrong, and someone was watching him. His scowl was deep as he studied the verge on either side of them. He then glanced over his shoulder, and pulled back on the reins without even realising he had done so as he looked at one of the most unnerving sights he had ever witnessed.
There, in the centre of the road where he had hit Estelle, stood five hooded figures, all carrying lanterns, as silent and merciless as death, lined up in a row staring at him. Myles instinctively tightened his hold on the woman in his arms. It was a protective movement because he knew that those people were the reason she had run out of the trees like she had.
Had they been chasing her? If so, why? Did she have any connection with those ghoul-like creatures?
He suspected they were people rather than ghosts but had no idea why on earth someone would willingly dress like that and skulk around outside on a foggy night.
Because she was unconscious, Myles knew he had to wait until she was awake and had been attended to by the doctor to ask her. It irked him that he had to leave the trespassers unchallenged, especially given they were on his father’s land, but Estelle’s needs were considerably more important than his father’s need to protect his land. Suddenly, the reason why he was in the area in the first place hit him, and re-emphasised his need to get home quickly.
His father was, hopefully, still waiting for him to arrive. Myles prayed that this slight delay hadn’t prevented him from seeing Barnabas in his final hours. But, if he was too late then he would have to find a way to accept it, somehow. He had, after all, been delayed circumstances beyond his control.
“They are for now,” Myles grunted as he glared at the figures as he left them behind. “But they won’t be for long.”
Quickly closing all thoughts out of what kind of punishment the trespassers deserved, Myles’ tightened his grip on Estelle and grimly raced toward home.
Without anybody to talk to, though, Myles found his thoughts turned back to the figures in the road. He knew that it would be folly to stop now, even if he hadn’t got more important matters waiting for him at home. If he challenged the trespassers, he would be outnumbered at five to one, assuming that there were no more of them lurking in the woods somewhere. It was better to go home, see his father, and make sure Estelle was safe and recovering. Then he could return and flush the trespassers out.
He was curious to know why they were on his father’s land in the middle of such awful weather in the first place, and knew he wouldn’t rest easy until he found out who they were, and had put a stop to their shenanigans.
