The Lord and his Lady (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Fifteen

A Lady in dire trouble? Who could that be?

He was about to step out when a woman with frizzy, disheveled blonde curls emerged in front. Her white silk gown was drenched to the core, the frail scarf she held around her barely enough to conceal her. Surprise flit across her delicate features as her gaze met his.

"Forgive me, Lord Caldwell, but I have found myself in a most tricky situation."

The rain did not spare the footman nor Lady Margaret. As guilt tore at his throat, he pushed it down to address the coming issue.

"What tricky situation would that be?"

"My coach's wheel is stuck in the mud. My footman attempted to push it out but it appears to be, well, completely destroyed."

Destroyed, she says? He peered out the window to see the two footman peering at the damage done. It was stuck in the mud, yes, but destroyed?

"Your home isn't too far from here," he hummed. "We can take you there."

"Oh, but could you really?"

"First," he emphasised, "I shall try my hand at getting that pesky coach out of harm's way."

"That seems quite dangerous."

"We won't know until an attempt is made."

He jumped down and crossed the road, over to the two footmen. "Shall we, gentlemen?"

They glanced at each other. "What shall we do, my lord?"

"Help me move this damned thing out of the road, what else?" he said. "I'll push, you two pull up to free the wheel."

He was in the middle of taking off his coat and uncuffing his sleeves when a gasp from behind made him turn.

Miss Price hurried out of a carriage—the one with their family crest—and hurried over, an umbrella over her head. "My lord," she breathed, judging the slanted coach, "is everything okay? What has happened?"

"Lady Margaret's coach decided to rest in the mud. We'll get her back on track soon enough."

"No one is hurt?"

"None except for the wheels." She didn't crack a smile, instead, her large brown eyes zeroed in on the wheel, taking his words literally as if the inanimate object had a heart. "Firstly, why are you here?"

"Your mother is panicking. There was news of flooding nearby and when you did not come back for hours on end, she feared the worst. I offered to look for you."

"That was kind of you," he said, "but unnecessary. I would have been home by now had this little obstacle not occurred, and you would have been running about in the rain looking for me."

"But I did find you." She spotted Lady Margaret huddled on the pavement and hurried over. She held out the umbrella. "Here, my lady."

The blonde woman stopped trembling enough in the cold to cast a look between the umbrella and the person extending it. She only inclined her head, and took it before retreating. Miss Price, however, didn't let that deter her. As if a lady on a mission, she lifted her dress and ran back over to where he stood.

"I don't suppose you'll offer your help now?" he joked.

She seemed almost surprised at this. "I hope that is okay?"

"The more manpower the better. I'd like to use your help the most I can." He leaned in. "But don't tell anyone I said that. One must uphold their reputation."

Miss Price bent her head but he could see a flicker of a smile hidden. Both footmen went around the unmoving carriage to where the wheel was, crouched slightly to prepare themselves to remove it. It was wedged so deep in mud that he couldn't see where it began.