Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

" Q uite the gale," Frederick commented as he lazily lounged on the chaise, eating a handful of berries blithely. "It sounds as if the windowpanes are rattling upstairs."

John glanced overhead, listening for the howling wind, but then he returned to his previous preoccupation. For the last quarter of an hour, he had paced the drawing room, stalking from one side to the other while he kept watch on the storm. He saw the dark, thick clouds when they first gathered overhead and continued to keep his eyes on them when those initial rain drops collected on the flower petals.

"If Olivia had only stayed through breakfast…"

"Yes, yes," Frederick interrupted. "It is a pity that you could not stop your bride from gallivanting off in this storm, but now that she is gone, I should have thought you would be relieved."

"Relieved?" John stopped walking and eyed his friend curiously. "How can you think I would be experiencing anything akin to relief right now?"

"Perhaps if you wanted your wife to stay at Frontershire Manor, you should have come downstairs and said as much yourself." Frederick met his gaze and matched it with a critical one of his own. "You cannot expect the lady to read your thoughts, John. You same as told her to leave…banished her from your presence. Is it any wonder she ignored your wishes this morning?"

"But I meant to protect her," John retorted.

"Well, what can you do about it now?" Frederick interrupted as he kicked his left leg laconically and slouched further onto the chaise. "Are you going to stand about all day, ranting and raving, lamenting the fact that Lady Olivia got out of here at the break of dawn, or are you going to do something about it?"

John stared at him, allowing his confusion to show plainly. "What do you mean? What can I possibly do at this juncture?"

Frederick sat up a tad straighter, but he did not give up his lethargic tone. "You could trail after her."

"Go out in this?" John waved his hand wildly at the rain droplets which were pounding the windowpanes. "Do you think I am a madman?"

"No," Frederick said slowly as he righted himself completely then smoothly stood and faced John directly. "But I think you do feel guilty about sending your wife away. If you had given her what she wanted, you would not be in this predicament now, fretting over her safety, wondering if she made it across the countryside before the storm accosted her."

John did some quick mental calculations. "She has been gone but three hours. That means, so long as the road was clear, and the rain was merciful, she and the carriages are mere moments away from arriving at their destination."

"Yes," Frederick chirped. "I suppose that could be the case."

"But what if it is not?" John gritted his teeth in agitation. "I know my driver, Mr. Tompkins, well, and he is capable, but what if the storm was too much for him? One of the horses on the team was new and…"

Frederick clucked his tongue, creating his signature tutting sound. "Here you go again, John, fussing over matters you cannot control."

"But I can control this matter…"

"You have power over the weather?"

John growled. "What I mean is that you were right before. I ought to be there with Olivia. I never should have let her travel across the countryside without me and now…"

"Now?" Frederick prompted.

"There is only one possible recourse." He inhaled deeply before concluding, "I must go after her."

"Splendid," Frederick said while clapping his hands together once, showcasing his delight. "When do we leave?"

"We?"

"But of course, I am going with you," Frederick replied, smiling winningly. "I have been waiting for you to come to this most inevitable conclusion for more than a quarter of an hour. Come." He paused and clapped John on the shoulder. "Adventure awaits!"

John grimaced. "This is not an adventure, my friend. Because Olivia took both closed carriages, we are left the chaise, a gig that is only ever driven around the countryside, or the…"

"We can go on horseback," Frederick interjected. "We can…"

"But what about your hair?"

Frederick blinked wildly. "Are you making jokes at a time like this, my friend?"

"I think I must," John returned. "For if I do not laugh, I believe I might cry."

Rolling his eyes at the heavens, Frederick said, "But we have no time for laughing or crying. Olivia is out in that tempest, and if we do not act quickly…"

"But what can we really do at this point?" John exhaled deeply.

"Are you changing your mind?" Frederick questioned. "Have you decided not to go find her after all?"

"Now that we are talking over the matter, I am wondering what good it will do," John explained. "We know that she left early enough the rain may well have waited to fall until she reached Dewsbury Manor. But we…if we leave now, our fate is most certain. We will ride on horseback, down a muddy pathway and…"

"John!" Frederick yapped in the sharpest tone John had ever heard him use. "Get a hold of yourself, man. Your lady is out there, and God only knows what has become of her. She could very well be safe and snug, sitting around the fireplace at Dewsbury Manor, or she could be having her own set of struggles. Do you not feel the need to know for certain what has become of her?"

Nodding stiffly, John acquiesced. "Yes. I must know."

"Very well." Once more, Frederick patted his shoulder. "You may be daft when it comes to love, but that does not mean you have no heart."

"What?" John asked.

"Never mind," Frederick mumbled. "Let us away at once. I fear we have already lingered here too long."

Just as John imagined, he and Frederick rode through driving rain. Large droplets pelted the top of his hat, drenched his hair, and soaked his clothes right through. Because they took off from the house so long after Olivia and the others began the journey, they had a lot of ground to cover. That was the one good thing about riding the horses rather than summoning a carriage. At least, they moved more speedily.

Nearly twenty miles separated Frontershire Manor and Dewsbury Manor, so hours elapsed. It was not until they reached the fork in the road indicating one path would take them onto Dewsbury Manor and the other would lead toward London, that rain slackened at all. John slowed his animal, giving it a moment of reprieve, and loosened his grip on the reins, so he could wipe the sweat and rain from his eyes.

"What do you think?" Frederick asked. "We have been riding for a very long time, and yet I see nothing amiss."

"Are you saying you want to turn back around now and go home?"

"No," Frederick scoffed. "I think we should carry on and at the very least, allow Benedict to offer us his hospitality as well as a pair of dry breeches, but…"

"But?"

"We must be sensible considering what we are walking into," Frederick replied. "At this point, it is clear Lady Olivia and her carriages made it to their destination safely, so what will we say when we show up on the viscount's doorstep and demand to…"

"Stop!" John shouted.

Whilst his friend had been talking, thinking ahead two steps, so they might prepare themselves for a bit of awkwardness, John had continued searching the path ahead of them. Until now, he had been able to track the progress of the carriages because there were deep grooves carved in the path underfoot. It was possible, of course, that some other travelers had taken this roadway during the rainstorm, but John doubted it. Most of the villagers were sensible people who were extremely cautious. None of them would ever have set out so hurriedly, ignoring the coming storm in their haste to get away.

But Olivia had good cause to flee. I bade her go.

Flustered, John's gaze flicked left and right.

"What do you see?" Frederick inquired after the silence stretched on for a beat longer. "You ordered me to stop, and I did, but…"

"There!" John's eyes snagged on a towering tree that stood just to the side of the road. "Do you see how there is a gaping hole?"

"Yes," Frederick said slowly. "But that is not so unusual. It only means a branch must have broken during the storm and…"

And that's when John spotted the carriage on the pathway ahead. He could not see his family crest clearly or make out any other identifying marks, but he knew this was one of the coaches which had conveyed his most precious possession, Olivia, and he urged his horse forward, so he might search for her.

"Olivia!" he shouted as he pulled the creature to a halt and dismounted. "Where are you?"

"Oh no," Frederick groaned faintly.

John surveyed the wreckage. It was obvious that a branch, presumably from the nearby tree, had been run over because pieces of it were still lodged between a broken wheel which lay off to the side of the road. The carriage itself had turned, and it was lying on its side so that the portion which was not being splattered by the remnants of the rain droplets was sinking deep in a puddle of mud.

"What happened to her?"

"I think that is rather obvious." Frederick dismounted and came to stand at John's side.

"Nothing is obvious," John replied as his pulse quickened, and his heart began thrumming loudly in his chest. "The horses are gone. The driver is missing, and Olivia…where is she?"

All the worst things that could happen to a person while traveling along the roadway flew through John's mind. He knew her carriage had been wrecked, but what happened after that? Was she thrown and lying in the grass nearby? Had thieves set upon them and stolen her away or…?

"John," Frederick spoke and interrupted the grievous thoughts that were battling for prominence inside John's head. "We must try to open the door on the topside. At the very least, we need to peek inside the coach and make sure your wife is not trapped within."

"Of course." John hurried forward and grasped the door handle. He wrenched the door open then peered inside. "Empty," he reported.

"No," Frederick groaned, and John knew immediately that his friend's mind had also gone through all the worst-case scenarios. "But if she is not here, then…"

"I have failed her…failed." John shook his head bitterly. "She trusted me, Frederick. She wanted me to protect her, to keep her safe. That day, in the library, when the meddlesome mamas and the sneering young ladies and gentlemen gawped at us, Olivia put her life in my hands, and what did I do? I left her to this fate!" He gesticulated toward the overturned carriage. "When Percy needed me, I could do nothing, say nothing to comfort him. But when Olivia needed me, the right thing, the appropriate response lay within my grasp, and I…I…"

"Peace, my friend," Frederick coaxed as he laid a heavy hand on John's shoulder. "You do not know what has happened to her."

"But I do know," John cried. "I have forsaken her. She begged me to do nothing more than show her my love and affection, and instead of sharing myself with her, I turned her away. I drove her out of our house, and now…and now…I may never look upon her again."

"Do not be so hard on yourself," Frederick soothed. "You are not to blame for…"

"But I am to blame!" John shouted, shaking both fists angrily at the clouds that were still gathered overhead. "What happened to my brother…I could control none of it. The actions, the repercussions were all outside my sphere of influence. But with Lady Olivia? From the very beginning, I have instigated things between us, and now…something terrible has happened to her, and I am wholly and singularly to blame."

"I just do not think…" Frederick made to argue but abandoned the endeavor when a horseman rode into view.

The man pulled his animal to a stop, then looked down upon them.

"Are one of you the physician?"

"Physician?" John gulped. "Is there need of a physician at Dewsbury Manor?"

The horseman pursed his lips as if he was reluctant to share the secrets of his house with a stranger.

"Come," John demanded, "I insist you tell me what you know. I am Lord Frontershire, and this is Viscount Newley. We are…"

"But then you are Lady Frontershire's husband?" the man on the horse asked.

"I am." The words fell from John's lips in a barely audible whisper. "Is…is my wife…is she…?"

"Go along to the manor, my lords," the horseman answered without allowing John to finish his stammering questions. "I must continue riding in search of a physician and perhaps a surgeon too, but…" He paused as John emitted a gasp.

"Is my lady hurt?" John needed to know.

"All your questions will be answered by Lord Dewsbury, my lord," the horseman said then after courteously nodding his head, he was off once more.

"Well, that is a welcome bit of news," Frederick said as he led the way back to their horses. "If Lady Frontershire is at Dewsbury Manor, then…"

"But what of the need for a physician and a surgeon?" John's stomach twisted into hard knots at the thought of what terrible calamity might have befallen his wife. "Why would the rider think they were in need of both? What injuries have been sustained to…"

"We know where she is," Frederick interrupted as he mounted his horse and settled into his saddle. "For now…that must be enough."

John was certain the bare facts they currently knew were far less than enough to satisfy him, but he saw logic in Frederick's words. They could learn nothing by staying out here. And so, he mounted his horse then took off at a gallop, racing toward Dewsbury Manor, praying fervently that when he arrived, he would find Olivia sitting up in a chair, sipping a cup of tea, and smiling beatifically back at him.

But he feared that would not be the case.