Melinda Hammond Read Online Free

eyes sparkling.
    ‘Not really. I helped them with a couple of runs, but that is all.’
    ‘But how? How did you meet them?’
    ‘It is an unedifying story, nymph.’
    He felt a small hand slip into his own.
    ‘Of course I will not press you, but if you would like to tell me. . . .’
    Vivyan found he was not proof against her wistful tone. He settled back in the corner of the coach.
    ‘It was some . . . eight years ago. I was driving on the beach at Sandburrows - do you know it? A little village not a day’s ride from Radstock. The beach there is long and smooth, ideal for carriages. I was racing the tide. A foolhardy sport, and it almost cost me my life - and that of a very dear friend. We were cut off by the spring tide. I managed to set the horses free, and they escaped, but I was washed out to sea, clinging to the wreckage of my carriage. I managed to swim to the island of Steep Holm, where I was discovered by a group of free-traders, sheltering in one of the coves. Doubtless I would have died of the cold if they had not stripped me of my wet clothes and given me food and shelter. After that it seemed only courteous to help them with their — er — activities.’
    ‘But what of your family? Surely they were anxious for you? Did you contact them, let them know that you were safe?’
    ‘No, I am ashamed to say that I did not —  not immediately. I was young, and reckless, and there were another four years to run until I could claim my inheritance. I was not prepared to sit back quietly and wait for time to pass.’
    ‘Now that I do understand!’ declared Stacey. ‘I believe if one has a dream one should follow it. Aunt Jayne says young ladies should remain quietly at home until a suitable husband comes along, but I think that is quite nonsensical, and especially now, when Rupert has been summoned to London and is being urged to marry another! How can I sit back and do nothing?’
    ‘Exactly so, brat. My uncle had been given charge of my property until I reached five-and-twenty, and I could not bear to watch him living at my expense. I plied the coast with my new friends for the next several months, then MacCauley had the idea of travelling across France.’
    ‘France! But that was ... we were at war!’
    Vivyan grinned.
    ‘That made it all the more exciting! MacCauley and I were of an age, both with a love of adventure. We lived on our wits, making a little money at cards, changing our identity to suit the company. We parted in Paris. MacCauley went on to Italy and I lived as best I could until the time came to return to England.’
    Eustacia was about to ask Vivyan how he had lived during those years in France, when the coach ran over a particularly rough patch of road, jolting so badly that its occupants were thrown out of their seats and found themselves in a tangled heap on the floor of the coach as it lurched to a stop.
     

Chapter Three
     
    ‘Are you hurt?’ Vivyan helped Miss Marchant back on to the seat, and as soon as he had ascertained that she was not injured he climbed out, bidding her to remain in the coach. After a few minutes Eustacia succumbed to curiosity and climbed out on to the road, where she found Mr Lagallan and the coachman inspecting the timbers beneath the box seat.
    The coachman was shaking his head.
    ‘One o’ the futchels is gone, sir. Snapped.’
    ‘Hell and damnation!’ muttered Vivyan. ‘Can we go on?’
    ‘No, sir. T’wouldn’t be safe - it supports the fore-carriage, you see, and the sway bar. The whole thing could tip over as easy as winking.’
    Vivyan looked thoughtful, tapping the ground as he considered the situation.
    ‘There will be a carriage-maker in Reading, sir,’ suggested the coachman. ‘He should be able to fix it in a couple of hours.’
    ‘You had best take the coach there.’ Mr Lagallan took out a purse and handed it to the coachman. ‘That should be enough, and to spare. There is a sizeable village a mile or so down the road with a decent