The constable had dropped by the wreckage just as they were pulling the vehicle up the hill, and the man inspected the broken wheel that had caused all the mayhem this afternoon. One of the spokes had been sawn down to almost nothing. And the reins hadn’t been securely attached, which was why the horses escaped unharmed. But still, the questions came back: who did it, and why would someone be doing this to him?
It turned Gavin’s stomach to think someone was purposely doing this. But he knew this was all aimed at him and none other. He had taken the coach that his grandmother usually traveled in to Birmingham, only because it had been prepared and he was in a hurry to leave. The accident was meant for him.
He was very relieved that none of the women had been injured. God must have sent angels to watch over them. Only the driver and the footman, who had been knocked unconscious in the fall, had suffered any harm.
Wearily, he left the coach house, knowing that this would be another expense he could ill afford, but the vehicle needed to be fixed. That would cost less than buying a brand-new one.
His headache pounded, more from the distress of everything that had happened than his lack of sleep while traveling. Perhaps he should have taken an extra hour or two to visit Lord Hawthorne and invest in some of his ventures. Then again, if he had stayed, he wouldn’t have been there to rescue his family from the overturned coach.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked closer to the manor. A few lamps were on in some of the rooms, but he couldn’t tell who was still awake. As much as he wanted to sneak to Priscilla’s room and hold her until he fell asleep, he already knew that would lead to kissing, and kissing would lead to things that shouldn’t happen when he was this exhausted.
Before entering, he removed his muddy boots, leaving them by the door. Quietly, he entered the manor and went up the servants’ stairs. This was the quickest way to reach his room, especially when he didn’t want to run into anyone on his way. He was in an irritable mood, and he was filthy. This wasn’t the way he wanted to look when greeting his guests, or Priscilla.
There wasn’t any noise in the corridor, which relieved him. He made it to his quarters without being stopped, then hurried inside and closed the door. His eyelids were already growing heavy as he walked toward his bed. Each step seemed to be harder than the last.
He opened the door to enter his bedchamber, but for some reason, the door seemed lighter. Of course, it could be that he was so tired that his mind wasn’t working. But as he released his hold on the door, he realized the heavy wood was leaning toward him.
Immediately, he pushed his shoulder against it, trying to keep it upright, but between the heaviness of the door and his exhausted state, he couldn’t keep it from tipping, coming down on him. Before he knew it, the large object had knocked him to the floor and landed on top of him.
The deafening sound bounced off the walls and made his head spin… or was it the pain throbbing in his skull that made him dizzy? As he struggled to push the door off, he found no strength. It was as if something heavy was pulling him down.
Gavin tried shaking away the dizziness consuming him, but it only made his head throb harder. If he could remove this barrier pressing against his head, perhaps it would help.
Trying one more time, he focused on his arms, and even his legs, lifting the door ever-so-slightly until the thick wood shifted. He took deep breaths and tried again. This time, the door moved a little more. Encouraged by the strength he seemed to have gained, he tried again, and was able to move the door off his body.
He lay on his back and breathed slowly and deeply, hoping it would help the pain shooting through his head and cease the room from spinning. He heard pounding, as if he was in the path of a stampede. He closed his eyes, and silently willed the noise to leave.
“Gavin? Open your eyes and look at me.”
As though through a tunnel, he heard Priscilla’s voice. He smiled—or, at least, in his mind he did—as he thought about that enthralling woman. Could she really have changed his mind about marriage? He couldn’t think of any other woman he wanted to spend eternity with.
“Gavin, please look at me and let me know if you are all right.”
At first, he thought he might be dreaming, but when she shook him and continued to plead with him to open his eyes, he remembered the situation he was in, and what had just happened. She must have heard when the door fell on him, and she was there to help. God bless her for caring so much.
It was more difficult than he thought, but he finally opened his eyes. Her face was in front of him, which was fine, becausehe would rather look at her beauty than anything else at the moment. As her face became clearer, she sighed and smiled.
“Oh, Gavin. Please tell me you are all right.” She gingerly cupped each side of his head.
“I’m alive.” He smiled the best he could. “But the door hit my head hard, and I have a tremendous headache.”
Concern etched her features. “Mrs. Jones is finding one of the servants to fetch the doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” he grumbled, and tried to sit up, but the dizziness filled him again, so he remained on the floor. He’d wait a few more minutes and try again.
“What happened?”
“I wish I knew. I opened the door to my bedchamber, and before I knew it, it was falling on top of me.” He tried to look around the room to see if anyone else had come to help. “Are you the only one here?”
“Your valet is here as well.” She nodded to her right. “He is preparing your bed as we speak.”
“I’m going to need a bath as well.”
“Of course, but not until after the doctor has checked you over.”
His chest shook with silent laughs. He loved how she cared for him. “Do you expect me to stay on the floor until the doctor arrives?”
“I do.” She arched an eyebrow. “And if you knew what was good for you, you would think twice about arguing with me.”
