Page 15 of Pride of Arm
Duncan had eschewed bringing along a footman or two because it would take longer to explain to the men what needed to be done than it would for him to do the work himself. Thefirst, cursory look he’d had at the bridge had led him to believe a minor, temporary fix was all that was required to keep the bridge safe through the winter.
When he finally arrived at the site, and had a chance to take a longer look at the stones underpinning the bridge, he realized the structure was in much worse shape than he’d first estimated. As long as he’d brought a load of rocks, though, he figured he might as well wedge a few in here an there to at least keep the crossing safe until he could come back with a more permanent solution. The first few small boulders he placed into gaping holes around the side of the bridge abutments seemed to stay secure with a bit of pushing. When he stood back for a more thorough assessment, he decided he should wedge in a few more from the opposite of the fortified abutment beneath the land side of the bridge.
He’d no more than wedged himself beneath the stacked rocks than he realized his mistake. He could see that virtually nothing was holding the rocks in place from that vantage point. Too late he sensed and then heard a major shifting of the old rocks, just before everything came tumbling down over the top half of his body.
Grace had beenbusy making sure all the guests had something to read or were directed out on short walks for exercise and contemplation. She also kept the footmen apprised of the state of the sideboard laden with numerous dishes to welcome the New Year. She kept the housekeeper apprised whenever one of the particularly popular dishes was empty. Lord Rumsford and Sir James circulated amongst the guests offering good wishes and solicitation for the coming year.
When she spied Johnny bringing up more large bowls of punch from the kitchen, she pulled him aside after he’d deposited the bowl on the sideboard. “Where is Duncan? It’s been hours since he left this morning.”
“He’s not back yet? Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. I haven’t seen him anywhere. Where did he go?”
“He was going to shore up the bridge.”
Grace’s veins turned cold. Something must have happened to Duncan. She could feel the certainty in her soul but didn’t want to raise an alarm needlessly.
Johnny shifted restlessly next to her. “Do you want me to check on him?”
“No, not yet. Where was he going?”
Minutes later,Grace had thrown on multiple layers of clothing and had a footman bring a pile of blankets to the sleigh she’d commandeered.
“Mrs. Phippen - are you sure you don’t want me to come along with you?”
“No, Lord Rumsford needs you here to attend to his guests, but make sure that if I fail to return within three hours, send help to the first bridge along the river.”
With that, she touched a whip to the horses pulling the sleigh, and they leapt out across the field toward the river.
Lucy pulledJohnny over an hour later and asked if he knew where his mother had gone.
“She went looking for Major MacKenzie when he didn’t return this morning, and she didn’t want me to leave my kitchen duties to go with her. She didn’t want to alarm anyone, but went on her own to find him.”
Hugh came up behind Lucy. “Where is he?” he demanded.
As soon as the description of the location was out of Johnny’s mouth, both Hugh and Lucy threw on heavy coats and headed toward the stables.
When Grace pulledup next to the bridge, the first thing she saw was Duncan’s legs sticking out from under a heavy pile of stones beneath the bridge and next to the crumbling abutment. Fear nearly froze her voice, but she shouted anyway. “Duncan—.” When the silence of the cold winter air was all she heard in reply, she wanted to throw herself into the snow and scream. And then there was a slight groan from beneath the pile of rubble. He was still alive. Her heart hiccuped at the faint hope, but she went to work, first tying the lead horse’s harness to a nearby sturdy bush.
After squatting down into the mud beneath the abutment and assessing the best way to proceed, she began pulling stones off of his chest and throwing them to the side. Just as she thought she’d cleared enough of the rubble so that she could free his head, another avalanche of rocks hit her on the back and threw her on top of her patient.
When she took a tentative breath seconds later, she realized that although she was trapped by the weight of the stones, she was still able to breathe. Directly beneath her, Duncan moaned again and moved stiffly. But he was still warm at the core of him, and she could hear the steady thud of his strong, stubbornheart beneath her breasts. Even encased in layers of warm coat and scarves, she could still feel the heartbeat of the man she loved. He was alive for now, and she’d take that. Thank the gods she’d alerted the footman to come looking for them if they didn’t return in a reasonable amount of time.
What seemed a lifetime later she could hear the hoof beats of several horses with riders. By the time Hugh and Lucy and tossed stones away from her back and freed Duncan from beneath, the Rumsford carriage loaded with footmen had managed to make it by way of the winding road.
Duncan staredup at the ceiling in his bedchamber and shook his head slowly. He’d narrowly escaped a bridge collapse that morning that might have ended his life in a way none of his Army skirmishes had ever managed to do. He marveled that he’d escaped being buried beneath so many heavy, crumbling rocks with nothing more than minor cuts, bruises. Fortunately, one of their guests, Dr. Torrance, was a physician who had pronounced him complete healthy and recovered from his ordeal when they’d dragged him back in the carriage.
His pride had turned out to be the greatest casualty. The woman he loved had come to rescuehimand had nearly died herself is a second pounding of loose bridge support stones.
He wanted to tell her how sorry he was that he hadn’t been able to protect her, that his inability to ask for help had endangered both of their lives. But he couldn’t, because…there was his pride, standing in the doorway, just daring him to leave his bed and go apologize like a proper gentleman should.
Suddenly, a wraithlike cat walked through the doorway, as if she’d entered from the hallway outside the door. She jumpedup onto the counterpane and walked directly to Duncan’s chest where she began a relentless kneading of his chest. He tolerated her ministrations for a few minutes but then swung his legs over the side of the bed and placed her on the floor. She turned her head back toward him and gave him a fierce look that made him find an dressing gown in the armoire in his chamber, open the door, and fall in behind her when she pranced through into the hallway beyond.
He was not certain where in the hell the cat wanted him to go, but he hoped to hell no one was about at this hour of the night who’d see him following a creature with a penchant for walking through solid Abbey walls.
When the cat stopped in front of a door and then walked on through, like a wisp of smoke, Duncan tapped lightly on the door, intrigued by what the ghostly feline was up to.
He couldn’t say he was surprised by the person who opened the door, but he was terrified of the next words that flooded unbidden out of his own mouth. “Grace, I love you more than life itself. I can’t bear the idea of wasting the rest of my life without you by my side. Would you do me the honor of agreeing to be my wife?”