Her habitually reticent mother’s intimate revelations this evening had opened a floodgate of memories and feelings she’d barricaded away. Beneath her light remarks and questions about her mother’s activities during the day, Laura was wrestling to subdue a rush of unhappy recollections. There had been several angry confrontations between father and daughter over the question of a marriage with Chester Hamilton before her father had accepted that he could not command her obedience. She’d met his initial fury and subsequent resentment with ill-disguised resentment of her own. That this had been mustered to conceal even from herself a throbbing pain at his total disregard for her happiness was something she’d never been able to face, until tonight’s revealing conversation with her mother.
Her own feelings of guilt and remorse at not being able to mourn her father wholeheartedly must be as nothing compared with her mother’s self-assumed burden. In Laura’s eyes her mother was blameless in the minor tragedy that was the Marsh domestic failure. Coerced into a contract she did not desire by two imperious, inconsiderate males, she wasau fonda gentle loving person. Her father, on the other hand, was neither kind nor loving. Having imposed his will on his reluctant bride initially, he had not known how to win her affections, thus ensuring his own unhappiness and, ultimately, that of his family. Perhaps he might have found consolation if she had been a son,Laura speculated sadly, but there fate had denied him, and the domestic tragedy had played itself out to its bitter end.
A question from Mrs. Marsh brought Laura out of her melancholy musing. At the same time she became aware of the rumble of approaching thunder. “I thought we were due for a storm,” she remarked, not without some satisfaction at her weather-divining acumen. “The sky was clouding over rapidly while I was changing. It won’t be long now.”
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when a fork of lightning appeared in the window. A loud clap of thunder was followed by the first patter of raindrops. Within a minute or less the rain had become a torrent. Mrs. Marsh, who detested electrical storms, declared her intention of returning instantly to the parlour, which was on the more sheltered side of the house, and Laura rose to accompany her, leaving her lemon sponge half eaten.
The storm was still at its height when Burns entered the parlour with more haste that was his wont. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but one of Farmer Judson’s sons has just come to the door to say there has been an accident. Evidently a sporting vehicle of some sort has overturned almost at the front gate; the horses are flailing about and the driver is unconscious or worse.”
“Is Judson out there with the horses, Burns?”
“Yes, Miss Laura, and the boy has gone back to help him.”
“Would you get my boots and the frieze cloak in the back hall, Burns?”
“Laura, don’t go out there in this horrible storm!” Mrs. Marsh cried as the butler left the room to do her daughter’s bidding. “Judson and his son will handle the situation.”
“They’ll handle the horses, Mama, but they might do more harm than good to an injured man. The storm seems to be passing over now. I’ll take Burns with me. You will not object to bringing the driver here if his injuries are serious?”
“Of course you must bring him inside, unless he is able to drive himself in his carriage, which seems not to be the case, or Mr. Judson would not have sent his son up to the house.” Mrs. Marsh rose as Burns returned. “I’ll have a bedchamber readied for him.”
CHAPTER TWO
By the time she and Burns reached the scene of the accident Laura was glad of the clumsy boots and her hooded cloak. The main storm had passed over, but some thunder could still be heard from the east, and the lantern with which Burns had seen fit to provide himself showed pools of water gleaming in the low spots on the path that gave on to the lane. Water dripping from the spreading chestnut tree on the lawn sprinkled them liberally as they passed through the gates.
The scene that greeted their eyes in the lane was distressing enough in truth, although Farmer Judson and his son had succeeded in freeing the horses from the vehicle and had them in hand, soothing their nervous movements while trying to inspect them for injuries. An elegant equipage was lying on its side, partly in the hedge, its one intact wheel canted at an eccentric angle above the ground. Laura’s eyes moved over the wreckage, lighting on a sprawled dark heap a few feet from the carriage.
“Bring the lantern here, Burns. Is he alive, Mr. Judson?” she called, hurrying to the man’s side.
“Don’t know, Miss Marsh. We had to go to the horses afore they trampled ’im. Half mad wi’ fear, they was. I sent t’lad to you soon’s we unhitched ’em. He ain’t moved none, nor yet made a sound the whole time.”
“He’s breathing, thank heavens,” Laura reported a moment later, taking her fingers away from the victim’s face and straightening up again. She surveyed the unconscious man untidily sprawled on his back, arms outflung. “I cannot tell if there are any broken bones, but his heavy coat might have afforded some protection. It’s soaked now. As wet as he is, he really cannot remain here waiting for the doctor. Did you witness the accident, Mr. Judson?”
“No, ma’am. Jem and me was coming from the village, caught in the storm. We heard an almighty crack is all. I cal’late the wheel must have hit that old tree root in the dark and rain; drivin’ too fast, I’ll go bail, like all they young bloods today in those outlandish contraptions.”
“It’s a bang-up racing curricle,” Jem volunteered. “Squire’s son up at the Grange drives one too.”
“Well, nobody won’t be drivin’ this one tonight, nor tomorrow neither,” his sire retorted with grim relish. “Half splintered, it is, from what I can see.”
“Are the horses all right, Mr. Judson,” Laura asked anxiously. “Can Jem lead them into the barn, so that you may help Burns carry the driver into the house, if I light the path for you?”
“One has a gash on the right foreleg where t’other kicked ’im, but they’ll do. Go along wi’ ’em, Jem.”
“I’ll see to them later, Jem, if you will saddle the cob and go for Dr. Beckworth once they’re in the barn,” Laura said to the boy holding the cheek straps of the now-quiescent horses.
“He has a bump on his head the size of a lemon,” announced Burns, who was sliding his hands under the injured man’s shoulders as the burly farmer came up to assist him.
“Perhaps if you were to remove that sodden coat it will be easier to carry him,” Laura suggested. While this was being done, she picked up the driver’s beaver hat that had become dislodged by the fall and, glancing around, retrieved a small valise from underneath the vehicle. Frowning from the discarded coat to the lantern standing where Burns had put it, she decided the only way to bring everything at once was to wear the hat while throwing the heavy coat over her shoulder, leaving her hands free for valise and lantern. Thus burdened, she went ahead, cautioning the men to hold the victim as steady as possible as she held the lantern so it shone on the path behind her to guide the bearers.
The awkward procession arrived at the house without incident, though all three were breathing heavily by the time they entered the bedchamber indicated by Mrs. Marsh who met them at the door and led the way upstairs, carrying a lamp. The men deposited the driver on the bed, from which Mrs. Marsh hastily pulled the coverlet.
Laura had left the lantern in the downstairs hall. Now she set down the valise by the bed and addressed the butler. “If there is no nightshirt in here, we’ll send Sukie to the attics to fetch one of my father’s from the big trunk. Ah, there is one. Good. You get him out of his clothes, Burns, while I take Mr. Judson down to the kitchen for some hot food. The fire in here feels wonderful, Mama. Perhaps we might spread this wet coat between the two chairs to dry near the fireplace.”
“Is he badly hurt?” Mrs. Marsh asked as she relieved her daughter of the driving coat and beaver hat.
“Except for a big lump on his head, we don’t know yet. Jem Judson was to ride for the doctor after he got the horses safely into the barn. I am going out to attend to them now.”
“I can bait the horses for you, Miss Marsh.”
