They all lurched as the young driver pulled the horses to the side of the road and halted. He turned on his seat to face them through the front carriage window. Sir John opened the speaking flap to listen to what the young man had to say. Wind and rain garbled his words.
“The roads are awful bad, sir. And the storm is picking up. I don’t think it wise to go on.”
“Come lad, it cannot be much farther.”
“Three miles, give or take.”
“And no inn before?”
“No, sir. But a farmer might let us shelter in his barn.”
“A barn—with these ladies? No. We must press on. I have a particular reason.”
“But, sir...”
“I shall make it worth your while.” Through the flap, Sir John handed the young man a small bulging purse. “And that much again when you deliver us there safely.”
The young man’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir.” He wiped the rain from his face and turned forward, allowing the flap to fall.
Marianna protested, “John, the boy is right. It is foolish to press on and get us all killed.”
Suddenly, Hannah sat up straighter. “Allow me out, if you please. I should not have come. It was a mistake.”
Astonished, Marianna stared at her. As did Sir John.
“I need to go back,” Hannah insisted, her voice nearly desperate.
Mouth grimly set, Sir John shook his head. “We are not going back.”
“I know—I shall find my own way. Just let me out.”
She rose and lunged toward the door, but he blocked her way with a strong, outstretched arm.
“I cannot in good conscience set you down here,” he said. “Not on this lonely stretch of road during a storm.”
“Hannah,” Marianna pleaded. “You agreed to come with me. I need you.”
“But I need—”
The coachman cracked his whip, the horses strained, and the carriage jerked into motion. To Marianna’s relief, her companion had lost her opportunity to abruptly abandon them a second time.
Tears filled Hannah’s eyes and rolled down her thin cheeks.
“See what you’ve done, John?” Marianna scowled at her husband. “You’ve upset her. My only friend in the world and you’ve upset her.” She added sullenly, “It won’t work, you know. He shall find me anyway.”
Sir John set his jaw and stared straight ahead, though there was little to see through the front window save the driver’s flapping greatcoat. Marianna glanced again at Hannah, noticing she kept her face averted to hide her tears.
Marianna wondered what had so discomposed the young woman, who had always seemed so stoic and self-contained in the past. Yet at the moment, Marianna had her own problems to think about. Turning toward the window, she stared out atthe lashing rain, toward the weedy verge between road and steep descent to the grey Bristol Channel beyond.He will find me, she reassured herself again.He did before.
But Sir John had taken many new precautions this time, clearly more determined than ever. Well,shewas more determined as well. Things had changed—she had their child to think of now. And she would love that child far more than her father had ever loved her. Her chest tightened at the thought. If only she had managed to get word to Anthony. But it was too late.
Suddenly the carriage wheels slipped as though on ice, losing their traction on the muddy road. The vehicle lurched. The horses screamed. So did Marianna.
Hannah cried out, “God Almighty, help us. Protect him!”
The carriage fell to one side. A great snap and whinny and the vehicle was flying, weightless. A second later, it fell. Over the edge, toward the water. The side of the cliff rushed toward them. A huge crash scattered Marianna’s mind and shook her bones. A wheel sailed past the window. The next moment they were airborne again, before the top of the carriage hit rock, the vehicle rolling, rolling until she lost all sense of up and down. The world shifted violently and ended in a blinding collision.
And she knew no more.
