She had to get out. Assess the situation. Get help. Surely she would be able to find help. This was England, for goodness' sake, not some remote wilderness. Moving carefully, Olivia released her seatbelt and slid out of the car. The slight movement caused her head to pound and ache even more, which she hadn’t thought possible. No matter. She had to keep going.
Holding on to the car, she walked all around it, squinting to see in the darkness and running her hands over the bumper and hood. No dents that she could tell. Hopefully, that meant she’d avoided a collision. Likely, she had just gone off the road. Where was the road? Everything was so dark! Only faint moonlight illuminated the scene.
She walked a few yards in the direction she thought the road might be. The terrain rose slightly. She was climbing up some embankment. Onto the road, perhaps? The headache pinched around her skull like a metal band, squeezing, squeezing until she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious once more.
CHAPTER 2 - In which the duke finds a lady in the forest
WILLIAM EDWARD COLLINS, the fifth Duke of Avondale, paced his study as he dictated another round of instructions to his weary secretary.
"The biggest priority is the roof repair in the Spitalfields house and securing the house in Southwark. Contract a specialized company to install secure windows and locks. And hire more guards. We cannot have another break-in."
The secretary jotted down the instructions. "Noted. Would that be all, Your Grace?"
Avondale raised his eyebrows. It was a measure of how tired his secretary was that he dared to hint at wrapping things up.
"Just a couple more things, Jameson."
The other man visibly deflated and tried unsuccessfully to smother yet another yawn.
He wasn’t insensitive to the man’s obvious exhaustion, but much remained to go over. Matters regarding Avondale’s refuge houses usually required immediate attention, but he felt reluctant sympathy for his secretary. Jameson had been traveling all day and then working with him since he arrived in late afternoon. They had already addressed the most urgent concerns. He supposed he could show the poor man some mercy.
"On second thought, we will continue tomorrow."
The look of relief on Jameson's face made his eyes sparkle and his mouth go slack in a way that was almost comical. Recovering, the secretary hastily gathered his papers, as if Avondale might change his mind if he lingered too long.
With a sardonic smile, Avondale turned towards the window as a flash of lightning shot out of the pitch black sky. It hit somewhere in the distance, but it startled him all the same. There was no thunder, and the earlier storm had already moved on.
“Bless me! Did you see that?”
“See what, Your Grace?” Jameson asked warily, no doubt fearing his departure would be delayed.
“Nothing. Never mind. Good night Jameson.”
“Good night, Your Grace.” He fled, setting the papers aflutter with his haste.
Avondale swept from the room, too. To investigate. Of course, the most sensible thing would be to wait until morning and then explore the area with a few of his grooms. But he couldn’t possibly wait that long. He’d never seen a stranger thing in his life. He must look into it. It could be a meteorite or some other phenomenon. It might be nothing but stray lightning, but it had not seemed so.
