“Yes, sir. Here in England, were she to allow her gift to become known, she would be reviled by most.”
Max sighed. “I cannot say I understand, Dal, but from what I’ve heard of her father, Baron Ridlington, she most certainly was reviled by him. A sad thing.”
“It is sad, sir. I am sorry I cannot explain better, but there are some matters that are of the spirit and defy mere words. All I can tell you is that when I met her at my sister’s earlier today, she was most excited about this evening, and seeing Mr. Miller-James. But I saw a shadow in her eyes, and I asked her to tell me what was wrong. She simply told me this evening had a dark feel to it. Then said I should not worry.”
“A dark feel?” Max tried to follow the man’s words, but it didn’t seem to make sense.
“Yes, sir. Those were her words. After she left, my sister and I spoke and she urged me to watch out for Miss Hecate tonight. So I did. I saw her arrive at this party, and I waited near the carriages. Then I saw her leave with Mr. Miller-James from a side door. They went to a fine carriage and spoke to the driver. There were words I could not hear, but the driver did not seem to want to take them. But finally he agreed, and they drove away. I had arranged for a horse, so I followed, but not knowing the roads I fell too far behind.” He bowed his head. “I shall never forgive myself.”
“I can’t begin to imagine,” said Max quietly.
“The driver had passed quickly, I believe. A rock.” He choked back a sob. “The horses…it was a mess. One was down, its front legs gone, the other still harnessed to the wreckage. The sound of those cries…I shall hear it forever in my nightmares. Mr. Miller-James had been crushed by the coach and breathed his last as I bent to him. I was helpless, sir, terribly helpless.”
“Any man would have been the same, Dal.”
“I knew Miss Hecate must be somewhere and I called her name. I heard nothing but the wounded horse, so I stood and something made me look toward the woods along the side of the road. There was a fence, but it was broken and a little way off I saw…I saw…” He pulled himself together as best he could. “I saw her hair. So gold. Glowing in the darkness.” He heaved a breath. “I ran to her. She was bloody…a cut on her forehead bleeding a little, but smiled when she saw me. Her leg…sir, her leg was…it is badly broken. I picked her up as gently as I could, but I know the leg must have been agony for her and yet she made no complaint. The farmer managed to free the other horse and I mounted with her in my arms. It must have been so painful. She fainted within moments…which must have been for the best given the damage to her body.”
“We shall repair it, Dal.” Small comfort, but all Max could say. And he meant those words with every fibre in his body.
“The old gentleman from the farm had come out to see what was happening. He had a pistol. The horse…it had to be done.” Dal shook his head. “Terrible. Just terrible. A beautiful chestnut…” He clasped his hands together tightly. “The silence afterward. It was almost unbearable.”
Max knew a sudden chill had rippled over his body at Dal’s words. “Dal, the carriage they took. Can you describe it?”
Dal glanced at him. “Why yes. It was dark green, with a simple design on the door. It looked new, and the horses were what you might call a matched set. Chestnut brown. You may not have seen it at your door when I arrived. A boy came to take it to your stable for me.”
“Dear God,” Max fell backward. “That was my carriage.” He gulped. “Harris. Oh my God. Harris.” Stunned, he stared at Dal, unable to put two thoughts together as the magnitude of the disaster and this new—intensely personal—twist percolated through his brain. “There is no way on this good earth Harris would have overturned my carriage. The man’s been with me for decades, and I trust him with my life. This is not right, Dal, not right at all.”
Lowering his head, Dal pressed his palms together. “My heart aches for your losses, sir. A tragedy indeed.”
“And one that will not go unnoticed.” Anger grew in Max’s mind, steeling him, clearing his thoughts. “I will find out what happened.” A thought occurred to him. “How did you know to come to Mowbray House? Or that Kitty would be with me?”
“I did not,” said Dal. “Miss Hecate did.”
“That is—that makes no sense.” Max frowned. “She could not have known we’d be coming to Mowbray.”
“When I found her, and began to care for her, she tugged on my shoulder. I neared her face and she whispered your name. ‘Max,’ she said to me. ‘Mowbray House. Find Kitty.’” He looked at Max. “That was how it was every now and again with Miss Hecate. She would know things, sir. Without being told or even before they happened. It was—is part of her gift. And I trusted in that gift. So I came to you.”
The coach was drawing to a halt in front of a little cottage where lights burned and the front door immediately opened.
“This is it?” asked Max.
“Yes, sir. This is where I carried her. She is inside.”
“Then let’s get her and take her home.”
Chapter Twelve
Kitty came out of the small parlor, closing the door behind her with care.
Max stood there, waiting. “Well? How is she?”
Kitty took his arm and motioned him away into the hall. “Sssh. She’s still sleeping.”
He led her into the library and sat her down in one of his large leather chairs. “You need tea or brandy or something. You’re too pale.”
She shook her head at him. “I’m all right. I’ll have some tea later. And if I’m pale, it’s nowhere near as white as Hecate.” She shivered then, a whole body shiver that nearly rattled her teeth.
“Damn,” muttered Max, grabbing a thick blanket that lay folded on one arm of the large sofa. “You’re either cold or in shock. Most likely both. I’m going to ring for tea right now. And you will drink it, do you understand? That’s an order.”
Too shaken to argue, Kitty nodded as Max walked to the bell and summoned Deery.
“What did the doctor say?” Max returned to her side.
“He said…” she tried to gather her thoughts. “He said it was a very bad break, and it was a good thing she did not wake. He set what bones he could, and he believes she will heal in time. But he did say she will most likely limp for the rest of her life.” Tears stung the back of her eyes. “She is so alive, Max. So bright. To see her like this, so very still…I don’t believe she’s sleeping. I think she is unconscious. The doctor wouldn’t say yea or nay, but tried to reassure me that whatever the cause, sleep is the best thing for her right now.”
“And he’s correct.” Max knelt down beside the chair, taking Kitty’s hand in his. “She has suffered grievous injuries, Kitty. Her body is, right now—even as we speak, starting the process of healing itself. We have to let it, let her wake when her body is ready, much as you’d like to tell her how glad you are she’s still alive, it will have to wait until she’s ready to hear it.”
His words sank into her brain, the calm assurances making sense at last.