then turned his attention to the wrecked carriage. With each second, it appeared more unstable, Fergus guessed because the passengers moved around inside it.
“For God’s sake, stay still,” he called out, as he dashed toward the vehicle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the coachman stagger across to the jittery horses.
When Fergus reached to tug the door, a woman in a rich crimson cape poked her head out of the shattered window. “Good. You can help.”
Could he indeed? He bristled at her imperious tone, while common sense insisted that he had no time for pique, if he meant to save these travelers from a dousing. “Are you hurt?”
She raised one slender, gloved hand and pushed back the hood on her stylish cape. He found himself under the regard of calm, dark eyes in a face that was striking for its hauteur.
Not at all his sort of woman, he could already tell. Too high-handed by far. Nonetheless, despite the urgent circumstances, he couldn’t help taking a split second to admire her. While the lassie mightn’t be to his taste, she was a prime article.
And by heaven, she was brave. Most women he knew would be in hysterics after that crash.
“No. Just a little shaken,” she said steadily. “But I fear Papa has broken his leg.”
To confirm this, a groan and a stream of curses in Italian emanated from the coach’s shadowy interior.
“He’ll end up in the drink if we don’t get him out. So will you. Is there anyone else in the carriage?”
“No, only the two of us.”
For a brief moment, Fergus wondered why she wasn’t traveling with a maid. The carriage was expensive, and so was that cape. Discreet jewels sparkled at her ears and throat. Whoever the lady was, someone had spent money on her appearance and comfort.
After months of rain, the bank was all mud and not the most reliable foundation. To anchor the carriage, he stood on the step. “Can you get out alone, or should I lift you?”
When she shoved uselessly at the door handle, the coach gave an ominous creak and tipped closer to the rushing brown water. “I think—”
“For pity’s sake.” Fergus wrenched open the jammed door with a grunt of effort, and hoisted her free.
He had a brief impression of lily fragrance and a tall, nicely curved body, before he set her on her feet on the road. She clutched a worn leather satchel that seemed too big for a lady.
“Well, that was decisive.” In the rain, she looked as ruffled as a wet hen, but he didn’t have time for politeness.
“Stay there and don’t move.”
He turned to shout at the coachman who was hauling the horses up the bank, away from the bridge. “Are the horses hurt?”
“No, my lord, only frighted.” The man edged away from Macushla and Brecon who approached him, more out of canine curiosity than aggression, Fergus knew.
“Then get down here and help me,” he said, blinking the rain away from his eyes.
“But the horses, my lord—”
“They willnae wander far, if they wander at all.”
Fergus returned to the step and stuck his head into the carriage. The lady’s father turned out to be a portly gentleman huddled in the far corner, just where he was most likely to tip the vehicle. The light inside was dim, but not too dim to hide the unnatural angle of the man’s left leg as it dangled in the well between the seats.
“Maledizione. I told Marina this viaggio was cursed, but does she ever listen to her papa?” the man said in a thick Italian accent. “No, not that one. She always knows best.”
“Papa, stop complaining and come forward so we can pull you free,” the woman—she was no ingénue, but at least in her middle twenties—said from beside Fergus’s shoulder.
He stifled a growl of annoyance. No wonder she hadn’t objected to his orders. She’d decided to ignore them instead. At least when she added her weight to his on the step, it helped counterbalance the tilting carriage. Even if things were a wee bit cozy for strangers, with the two of them sharing the narrow metal platform.
“My leg, she hurts,” her father groaned, shifting further away.
Fergus bit back a curse. If the coach slipped now, all three of them would end up in the burn.
“The rest of you will hurt if you fall into the river,” the woman said, edging closer to Fergus. The scent of lilies mixed with the fresh smell of the rain. When she reached inside