Hester, I will explain everything in a moment.’
With a word to the servants on the box, Nancy stared into the copse. At first it was nothing but black trunks and shadows and for one frightening moment she doubted herself. Perhaps she had dreamt the whole thing. Worse, perhaps the man had wandered off and collapsed somewhere. Then she saw a movement among the trees, a cloaked figure coming slowly out of the wood.
‘There you are!’ She ran up to him. ‘You are limping. I had not thought—are you badly hurt? Here, let me help you.’
She pulled his arm around her shoulders. Only then did she realise how tall he must be, because she did not have to stoop to support him.
He leaned heavily against her.
‘Bruised,’ he muttered, ‘nothing broken.’
‘Tell me where we are to take you.’ She walked with him slowly towards the chaise while the snowflakes, big as goose down, settled on them.
‘Dell House.’ He winced again, and she realised that every step was painful for him. ‘A few miles this side of Darlton.’
‘On the Lincoln Road. I know it.’
They had reached the carriage and she called to Hester to help her get him inside, then she gave hurried directions to her coachman. The men on the box were clearly bursting with curiosity, but Nancy’s tone told them she would brook no objection and they both accepted her instructions with no more than a nod.
It was more difficult to pacify Hester, who had moved to the corner furthest away from the stranger and was staring at him, horrified.
‘Nancy, Nancy, what are you about? You have taken up a drunken stranger. He may be a dangerous villain for all we know.’ She gave a little cry as the carriage lurched forward. ‘Heaven preserve us, have you run quite mad?’
‘Not in the least,’ replied Nancy, sitting beside Gabriel and holding him steady. Snowflakes still clung to her jacket and to the cloak wrapped about him. She brushed them off with her free hand before they could melt into the wool. ‘I am merely being a Good Samaritan. We are going to deliver this poor man to his home.’ He was shivering and she added urgently, ‘Pray, put your hot brick beneath his feet, Hester, and give me your shawl. I shall wrap the other brick for him to hold against his body.’
Hester did as Nancy bade her, muttering all the time.
‘I don’t say I understand any of this. Do you know this man?’
‘Not in the least, but he assures me he is not intoxicated. He told me he had been waylaid.’ A laugh escaped her. ‘Heavens, what an adventure!’
Hester’s snort spoke volumes, but Nancy was more concerned with Gabriel, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. She eased him down until he was lying along the seat, his long legs trailing to the floor. The wound on his skull was no longer bleeding and when she placed her fingers on his neck she thought his pulse was stronger, but perhaps she only wanted that to be so.
‘I have done as much as I can for him,’ she muttered, sinking to her knees on the carriage floor and resting one hand lightly on his coat, reassured by the rise and fall of his chest.
As they rumbled on she remained at his side, holding him securely on the seat. A rueful smile pulled at her mouth. An adventure indeed, to take up a strange man and drive him to safety. Dell House was only a few miles from her old home. The place she had avoided for more than a decade.
The heady excitement within her faded. Nancy glanced out of the window. The snow was falling steadily and thankfully there was little wind to cause drifting, but she knew that could change in a twinkling. She had been foolish in the extreme to leave the main road, to put herself out for a stranger. She remembered their brief conversation, the sudden, glinting smile that had melted her anger. She had not realised it at the time, but that smile had set her pulse racing. Charm, she thought now. The man had an abundance of charm.
She glanced at his unconscious figure. He was bruised, battered and now dangerously chilled. He would need diligent nursing and nourishing food to return him to health. She could do that. It was her strength, it was what she enjoyed, looking after damaged creatures.
Nancy pulled herself up with a jolt. What was she thinking? This man was not her concern. She must not allow her sympathies to run away with her. Heavens, had she learned nothing in the last twelve years? She shivered and moved on to the seat beside Hester, who patted her knee.
‘You’ve got too kind a heart, Miss Nancy, that’s your trouble. We should have told the landlord to fetch the fellow back to the inn. They could have cared for him there.’
‘Perhaps, but he was so adamant I should not tell a soul.’ Nancy sighed. ‘I confess, I shall be glad to leave him with his own people and we can be on our way.’
* * *
However, when at last they reached Dell House, no servants ran out from the house or the outbuildings to greet them. The sky had cleared and Nancy had a good view of the house in its snowy setting. It was a modest gentleman’s residence, sitting four-square in its own grounds, and it was in darkness, save for a glimmer of light from the fanlight above the door. Without waiting for her footman, Robert, to climb down from the box, Nancy alighted and went to the door, where she rapped smartly upon the knocker.
Silence.
Robert joined her, his hat and shoulders white with snow. ‘Don’t seem to be anyone at home, ma’am.’
‘There has to be.’ She beat another tattoo upon the door. ‘Are we sure this is the right house?’
‘Aye, ma’am, Dell House. ’Tis carved on the gateposts, clear as day.’
At that moment there was the sound of bolts being drawn back and Nancy gave a sigh of relief.
‘At last.’ She schooled her face into a look of cheerfulness, but a sudden loud sneeze from behind the door made her step back in surprise.
A man opened the door, a lamp held aloft in one hand. He cut a very sorry figure, standing before them in his stockinged feet and with a blanket hung loosely about his hunched shoulders. His eyes looked heavy, there was the dark shadow of stubble on his face and his hair was tousled, as if he had just risen from his bed.
‘Good evening, I—’
She was interrupted by another loud sneeze. The man buried his face in a large handkerchief.
‘I beg your pardon.’ His voice was muffled by the cloth over his nose but he was clearly mortified. ‘A cold!’ he managed to gasp, before being overcome by another explosive sneeze.
‘Yes, well, we have an injured man in the carriage,’ said Nancy. ‘A Mr Gabriel Shaw.’
‘By baster!’
‘Yes, your master.’ Nancy was relieved to have that point confirmed. ‘We need to get him into a warm bed as soon as possible. Can you—?’ She stopped as the man was seized by a paroxysm of coughing. ‘Is there anyone else in the house who can help?’
‘Do one,’ he managed. ‘Only be and I’m weak as a cat.’
Nancy pursed
