A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder. Dianne Freeman

with Reggie, I think I understand, but George is nothing like Reggie, and you will be a wife and mother. Is there something else you wish to do? Something of which he wouldn’t approve?”

      How to explain it? “I simply wish for us to be partners. I don’t want to take a subservient role in our marriage.”

      “Ah, I think you’ll handle that beautifully, my dear.” She gave me a warning look. “But if you’re truly worried, you should discuss your fears with George. If he senses your hesitation, he may think it means you’ve changed your mind—that you no longer wish to marry.”

      A knot tightened in my chest, recalling my fear of losing him just a few hours ago. “I’d never want him to think that.”

      “I wouldn’t worry, dear. My brother is too cocksure of himself, and far too determined, to allow you to change your mind.”

      “He is rather confident, isn’t he? But you are right. I should talk to him about my concerns.”

      I turned at the sound of shouts and excited voices farther up the path. We shared a curious glance then hastened our steps. Ahead of us was George and two men I didn’t know—estate hands by the look of their dress. One of them held the reins to a skittish horse, who became even more so when Leo rode up and dismounted. As the groom moved both horses to the side of the lane, he revealed another man lying facedown on the ground.

      A sense of dread tickled the back of my neck. There must have been an accident.

      Chapter 4

      Fiona and I covered the remaining yards to where the men gathered around the downed man. One of the estate men, a very young man indeed, assisted George in turning him onto his back. Just as we reached them, the man on the ground howled with pain. I cringed, but at least the cry meant he was alive.

      “What happened?”

      George steadied the downed man, while his younger assistant wiped the man’s head and face with a cloth, looking for signs of a head injury, I assumed. As he was currently covered in dirt, grime, and a jaw full of whiskers, it was impossible to tell if there was also blood.

      “None of us were here to see,” George said. “But it appears the horse threw him.” He turned his gaze to the man’s leg, twisted in a frighteningly unnatural position. I winced at the thought of his pain. “And it further appears he’s been injured.”

      George turned to the young man assisting him. “You work with Gibbs, don’t you?”

      The man bobbed his head, and I recognized him from the train station, helping to organize the servants and bags. “Yes, sir. John Winnie. I’m Mr. Gibbs’s assistant.”

      “Well, Winnie, go check the stables and see if you can find us some sort of litter. Gibbs won’t be walking on that leg anytime soon.”

      “And have someone fetch the doctor as well,” Fiona called to Mr. Winnie’s retreating back. “He’ll need medical attention.”

      George instructed the other man to go with Mr. Winnie and return Gibbs’s horse to the stables. Mr. Gibbs was awake and taking in his surroundings. Aside from a few scratches, and the obviously broken leg, he seemed otherwise intact. He let out a groan.

      “Don’t try to move,” George said.

      “Can you tell us what happened, old man?” Leo asked. “Did you take a fall?”

      Gibbs released a growl. At first, I thought it was due to his pain, but apparently, anger had taken over. “Haven’t taken a fall since I was in short pants. This was no fall. We ran into something in the road. Felt it hit me in the chest just before I went down. Yanked back on the reins. Lucky this beast didn’t stomp all over me.”

      “Lucky indeed,” I said. “What a terrible accident.”

      “No accident.” The man tried to turn my way, then grimaced in pain with the movement.

      “Lie still,” George instructed. “You don’t want to move your leg until the doctor has seen to it and set the bone.”

      The man lay back on the path with a grumble. “No accident,” he muttered.

      Leo made his way to my side, leading the gray horse behind him.

      “He must have run into a low branch,” he said. The path looked as though it had been in use for hundreds of years. It was quite spacious and surrounded by trees that appeared very grand and very ancient. I saw no sign of any low-hanging branches, but perhaps this was not the time to point that out.

      I jumped as the horse nudged my arm with his nose. “Have you been riding, Leo?”

      “No, I was just on my way, when we heard the caterwauling. I rode out this far to see what had happened.”

      When I looked up the path behind him, I couldn’t see the stables, but I knew they were just around a turning. “You didn’t get very far, did you? Everything seems to be in hand here if you still wish to ride.”

      He gave me a grin. “I believe I shall. I don’t often have a chance for a good run.” He mounted the gray and cast a cautious glance at the steward. “If you’re certain I can’t be of any use here?”

      I waved him on. “The men are returning with a litter now. Go while you still have good light.”

      As Leo rode off, John Winnie pulled the litter up beside the injured steward and George bent to help lift him. The men decided the steward’s cottage was the closest building and arranged to transport him there. As they seemed to have everything under control, Fiona and I made our way back to the house so we could direct the doctor to the patient upon his arrival.

      * * *

      What remained of the afternoon skittered by quickly. I spoke to Lily about the arrangements I’d made with the vicar, broke up an argument between two of Leo’s sisters, and changed out of my dusty clothes into something more suitable for dinner, a new aubergine silk with a lace ruffle on the left side running from my shoulder and curving around to meet the short train. By the time Bridget finished my hair, dinner was only an hour away, the gentlemen had returned from the shoot, and I happily chatted with Lottie in the drawing room.

      We’d barely finished discussing her wedding when Charles interrupted our little tête-à-tête. “Cousin Frances,” he said, seating himself beside his new bride, “I’m delighted you and your family were able to join our little group after all. Hazelton said you’d try to put him off, but he was determined. He does tend to get what he wants, don’t you think?”

      I parted my lips to answer, but he continued.

      “But you definitely have a mind of your own, and if you chose not to come, I was certain you’d stand firm. Still, I didn’t know which of you would be victorious.”

      Lottie attempted to stop his loquacious explanation with a jab of her elbow. Unfortunately, she held her teacup in that hand, and as Charles leaned forward, she jabbed only the sofa, sloshing the liquid onto her skirt.

      I smiled in contentment. It was comforting to see some things never changed. “Were you successful in the field today, Charles?”

      “Yes, indeed.” He grinned, revealing two lovely dimples. Charles was more than ten years Lottie’s senior. Though the aforementioned dimples and his thick blond hair, coupled with his boyish charm and energy belied his age, this difference was a fact that troubled me when it first became apparent his interest in her was of a romantic nature. Fortunately, my concern was for naught. He and Lottie seemed perfectly happy with one another.

      Lottie dabbed at her skirt with her napkin and sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take this to my maid right away, before the stain sets.”

      The dark spot had grown across her skirt. “I’m sure she’ll be able to set it to rights,” I said “At least I hope so. That color is perfect on you.” Indeed, the soft pink brought out the auburn in her hair and emphasized her brown