More Than a Lover Read Online Free Page A

leaders. There was no way for him to repair the coach. They needed help.
    He went to his own horse and pulled down his saddle pack before going back to Mrs Falkner. Her colour was already better. A good sign. He put a finger beneath her chin to lift up her face so he could see to tend her forehead. Her eyes widened in shock. ‘You have a bump,’ he said by way of explanation for his forward behaviour. ‘Do you have a headache?’
    She shook her head. ‘It only hurts if I touch it.’
    Another good sign. He pulled out a bottle of witch hazel and dabbed at the bruise and then at the cut on her hand.
    â€˜Did you say Garge is...?’
    No sense beating around the bush. ‘Dead. Yes.’
    â€˜How can that be?’
    â€˜He must have struck his head on a boulder when he came off the box.’
    â€˜But...he opened the door. Looked in on me. I heard him. I felt so dizzy, I told him I had to rest a minute. He left before I could open my eyes. But he was there. After the accident.’
    Not possible. She likely imagined it. ‘I am so sorry, Mrs Falkner, but Mr Garge’s neck was broken by the fall. It would have been instant.’
    She stared at him, then turned her face away, clearly confused. And why would she not be after such a bang to the noggin. ‘Is there nothing we can do for him?’
    â€˜No.’ He kept his voice matter-of-fact. He did not want her going into a fit of hysterics after she’d been so stoic. She would not like him to see her in such a state any more than he would like to watch her fall apart.
    She started to rise, swayed and put a hand to her head. Her face blanched.
    He gently pushed her down. ‘Sit.’ He pressed her head to her knees with his forearm at the back of her neck, a beautiful vulnerable nape that begged a man’s touch. He forced himself to look away and gaze off into the distance until her breathing evened out.
    She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘I am better now. Thank you.’
    He released her immediately. He did not want her thinking he had anything untoward on his mind, because it would be easy to fall into such a trap with a woman as lovely as this one. ‘He wouldn’t have felt a thing,’ he said. It was what they always told themselves in the aftermath of battle, though, given his own experience, he doubted it was ever true. ‘There was nothing anyone could have done.’
    She buried her face in her hands. ‘What on earth am I to tell his wife?’
    He grimaced. It was something he had always hated, but at least he’d only been required to write a letter. He’d never had to face anyone’s widow with the bad news, though he’d met plenty of them since returning to England. Made a point of it. And they were grateful, most of them, when they should have taken him to task for not caring for their men better than he had.
    â€˜What happened?’ he asked.
    â€˜I don’t know. The coach bounced so hard it must have hit a rut in the road and then I was thrown against the door. I don’t remember much after that.’
    With a coachman as competent as Tonbridge’s driving a team as steady as this one, it was hard to imagine Garge running foul of a rut. ‘Did you see anything unusual?’
    She frowned. ‘What sort of thing?’
    Clearly his conversation with the innkeeper had his senses on high alert. ‘I wondered if something might have distracted Garge. Made him make a mistake?’
    She frowned. ‘I heard a crack. The whip. I assumed he was trying to make up some time after the slow going in the valley.’
    Ice ran through his veins. A shot? He bit back a curse, not wanting to scare her. He needed to look at the carriage. And the coachman. He rose and stared around him. ‘Well, there is no moving the carriage with that broken wheel. We must find you some shelter.’ He’d also have to notify the local authority about the death.