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Kitty arrived a while later, slightly out of breath, having trudged back up the hill towing the sledge.
“This is why we need one each,” she informed them crossly.
Holly ignored her and positioned the toboggan, seating herself as far back as she could, gesturing for Clemmy to join her.
“Why can’t I go down on mines own?” the child whined petulantly.
“You can do, after this first time, but it would be best we go together to begin with, don’t you think?” She said determined to remain patient.
Clemmy nodded and proceeded to clamber in front of Holly and sat, whereupon Holly wrapped one hand securely about the child’s middle and gripped the steering rope with the other.
The start of the ride was slow, but their combined weight and gravity did the rest. Soon they were both shrieking with glee as the bottom of the hill raced up to meet them. They came to a halt and tipped sideways into a flurry of powdery snow. Clemmy laughed so infectiously that merriment bubbled up, and Holly giggled at the child’s antics.
They were met halfway back up the hill by Libby and Kitty. Libby grabbed the rope of the sled and ran upwards, away from them, towing the toboggan behind her.
“My bootlace is undone,” Clemmy grumbled.
Holly hunkered down beside her and began to rethread her boot. There was a shout from above, and Kitty jumped up and down, waving her arms frantically.
“Stay here,” Holly commanded the child. She struggled through the snow, and at the top of the rise she was met by a tearful Kitty.
“Libby wouldn’t listen to me! She went down the wrong way and she hasn’t got up yet!” the child gabbled, pointing towards the woodland situated on the other side of the summit.
Holly squinted down the hill to where a jumble of sledge and child was visible. Libby lay still, resting against what appeared to be a high bank of snow.
“The fence!” Holly cried, recalling Silas’s warning. “Dear lord,noo... Libby!” She yelled.
There was no response from the prone child. Holly turned to Kitty.
“Quickly, fetch Clemmy. Take her and run to find help. Try where we spoke to Silas first, and if he is not there, run to the house and fetch your father, or any adult you meet. Tell them we need help urgently.”
Not waiting for a reply, Holly slithered and stumbled through the snow as fast as she dared on this much steeper slope. Making her way to where her stepdaughter laid still and unmoving, she called to her. “Libby, Libby!”
“Ouch, my legs hurt,” Libby mumbled tearfully as she reached the girl’s side.
Holly sent a prayer of relief that the child was conscious. Stark red stained the pristine white of the snow.
Holly straightened the child’s legs gently, one at a time. Deep gouges had been ripped into the flesh above each of Libby’s knees. She packed snow over the wounds in an attempt to halt the bleeding. The toboggan lay tilted on its side; it had collided with the fallen fence which was hidden, buried beneath the fresh fall of snow. Holly shifted Libby’s head onto her lap and stroked the child’s forehead. Libby sobbed quietly and complained of feeling cold. She prayed help would come soon.
It finally arrived in the form of a horse-drawn sleigh, handled by Gregory himself, accompanied by two footmen, one seated, another hanging off the back to balance the vehicle on turnings.
“Libby, are you all right?” Gregory called and leapt down from the driver’s position.
“P-Papa, I-I am s-s-o c-cold,” his daughter cried, her teeth chattering.
Holly sent a prayer of thanks at her husband’s arrival and watched as Gregory grabbed a rug, leaped to the ground and made his way over to them. He threw the woollen blanket over his daughter. One of the footmen clambered down in order to help move the child, but Gregory slipped his arms beneath Libby and scooped her up. Cradling her against his chest, he carried her over to the sleigh.
“Holly, climb up here and sit down. You can support Libby’s head,” he ordered.
Holly needed no further urging. With the footmen’s help, she joined them in the slay. Gregory gently lowered Libby’s head onto her lap. One of the footmen added a pile of furs and rugs to the plaid one already covering Libby.
“I am most displeased with you, young lady.” Gregory scolded, casting a steely glare at Holly. Once back at the house, she followed her husband as he carried his daughter through to the withdrawing room. He yelled for someone to go and fetch Doctor Powell using the sleigh.
Gregory settled his daughter on a chaise longue. Kitty and Clemmy were already seated side by side next to Nanny, on one of the upright sofas. The girls sipped steaming cups of honeyed milk.
Mrs Lane approached with a bowl of hot water and a cloth which Holly took from her. She asked the housekeeper if she had a recipe for a poultice. When the housekeeper answered in the affirmative, she sent her to make one.
Libby whimpered as her father carefully unlaced and removed his daughter’s boots. The long scratches across the leather indicated that her wounds would have been far worse had she not been wearing her calf boots. Next, Nanny helped pull off her shredded stockings, revealing a cut to each leg just above the knees, which looked angry and deep. Holly leaned in with the bowl of water and cloth.
