A Thin Line (37 page)

“Exactly what you told me to do.”

She felt the rail of the walking bridge pressing into her back.
 
They heard someone yell “Run!”
 
A loud chorus of screams followed.

“What’s going on?”
 
Kala asked, trying to focus on the screams.

“Whatever it is, people are being forced our direction.”

“Shouldn’t we move?”
 

“I think we are safe here.
 
That curricle can’t fit on the foot bridge,” he stood and watched the chaos unfolding.
 
More people tried to fit on the footbridge, crushing Kala and Gabe against the rail.
 
He did his best to put himself between her and the crowd.
 
“My God,” he muttered.

“What?”
 
Mikala heard the worry in his voice.

“It’s our curricle.”

“Tommy!” She heard a piercing scream.

“Dear Lord!
 
Stay here.”
 
He left her in a sea of bodies.

“Tommy!
 
Someone help!”

“What’s happening?” Mikala asked frantically.

“What, are you blind?” A man with a harsh German accent questioned.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”
 
He cleared his throat apologetically and began to describe the chaotic scene before them.
 
“There is a driverless gig being dragged across the park.
 
Horse acts as if it has been spooked.
 
A small boy seems to have gotten away from his caregiver and is in the path of the horse.”

Kala sent up a silent prayer for the boy.
 
Then she realized that her dear, stupid husband had gone to save him.
 
“So, you don’t want to be a hero?”

“Huh?” the same guttural voice asked.

“Nothing.
 
Is there a man running towards them?”

“Yes.
 
He appears to be attempting to intercept the horse.”
 
Kala kept up a string of prayers.
 
“He’s standing in front of the horse, waving his arms like a madman.
 
It’s working!
 
The horse is turning.
 
Several other men have joined him and the horse is turning in a tighter circle, slowing.”
 
Thank goodness he hadn’t gotten himself killed.
 
“Most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, dyah.”
 
Kala felt her knees go weak in relief, hating that she couldn’t see for herself what had happened.
 

“Your husband is a hero,” a different voice said behind her.
 
This voice sounded eerily familiar, but the speaker masked his voice just enough that she couldn’t quite make the person out.
 
A shiver shimmied down her spine.
 
The crowd had begun to thin somewhat now that the excitement was over.

“Yes, he is.”

“Excited to see me?
 
Whatever will your husband think?”
 
A voice whispered in her ear.

“Who are you?”
 

“Still can’t see?
 
That
is
a shame.”

“How do you know?
 
Who are you?”
 
He started pulling her down the footbridge.
 
“What are you doing?
 
Gabe!” she screamed as loud as her deep voice would allow.

“Shut up,” the man hissed and covered her mouth with his hand.
 
She reached up caressingly, until she reached the man’s ears, reached back as far as she could and slapped her hands over them.
 
He howled and quickly let go of her.
 
She stumbled back and tripped on something.
 
Her arms flailed as she tried to regain her balance.

Seeing his chance, the man forgot his ringing ears and grabbed her.
 
He found himself shocked with the strength in which she fought back.
 
She stood against the rail, trying to feel her way down the bridge when she felt someone swing her up and then remove their arms before she had time to fight.
 
For a moment she panicked, not knowing when she would land, until her temple hit something hard.
 
Mikala knew nothing when the water engulfed her.

“Kala!” Gabe yelled, racing from the horse and gig as he watched someone drop his wife over the bridge.
 
He saw her head bounce awkwardly before she landed in the water with a splash.
 
“Kala!” He yelled again as he reached the bank.
 
He had wasted precious time fighting the crowd that had formed around the scene.
 

The runaway horse now forgotten, people stood by watching Kala float facedown in the water.
 
No one had jumped in to save her, damn them all to Hell.
 
He jumped in, fighting the suction of the mud as he waded to her.
 
Gabe turned her over and laid his fingers against her slender neck, praying.
 
Her pulse felt faint, but she wasn’t breathing.
 
He trudged back to the bank with her in his arms.
 
He ignored the rising murmur of voices, and focused on Kala.
 

“I can’t lose you now.
 
Dammit, you have to fight.
 
You hear me?
 
You can’t give up.
 
Not now.”
 
He turned her onto her stomach; her head rested lower than the rest of her body.
 
He moved to straddle her thighs, and amongst gasps at this shocking display began pushing on her lower back.
 
He continued this in a rhythm for what seemed to be forever, before she began coughing and vomiting water.

He continued a few more times until he felt satisfied she would be able to expel all the water she had swallowed.
 
He turned her on her side and held her while she retched.
 
He saw blood trickling from a gash along her temple.
 
The gash had to be responsible for her near drowning for he knew her to be an excellent swimmer.
 

“Kala, sweetheart, open your eyes.”
 
He tapped her cheeks and called her name again when she didn’t respond.

“My head,” she moaned huskily.

“Can you open your eyes?”
 
He watched her try to pry open her lids then quickly shut them.

“Bright.
 
Hurts.
 
Home,” she finished softly.
 
She began shivering from the chill of her wet clothes and the breezy autumn day.

“All right.
 
We’ll get you home.”
 
He stood with her in his arms and turned towards the curricle.
 
He paused and turned back to look at the bridge, but saw only spectators.

“Will she be all right?” A German man came up to him.

“I believe so.
 
Who are you?”
 

“I stood next to the young lady on the bridge when you went after the horse.
 
Bit of bad luck all the way around,” he said with a guttural accent.

“Yes.”

“Can I help?”

Gabe looked at the stout man and decided he would have to enlist the man’s assistance.
 
“Can you lift her up to me?”

“Dyah,” the man said and accepted Mikala’s slight weight.
 

Gabe climbed up and settled the horse before reaching for his wife.
 
He settled her beside him, wrapping one arm around her while the other took up the reigns.
 
“Thank you for your assistance.”

“Best wishes,” the man waved, before joining a portly lady.

The curricle lurched into movement and Kala moaned.
 
“Shhh,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
 
A fine tremor ran through him as he realized how close he had come to losing her today.
 
“Never again,” he vowed.

***

The man in the worker’s tweeds, with the hat pulled low let loose expletives not fit for most ears.
 
Everything had been perfect.
 
“Why does Hawkescliffe have to think he’s a bloody hero?”
 
He paused to rub his still ringing ears.
 
“That bloody little bitch.”

He realized he had underestimated them.
 
He needed to rethink his tactics.
 
They would be on their guard for a while.
 
The house would be a veritable fortress with Kala acting the part of the princess locked in the tower.
 
He had had her in his arms.

“Dammit,” he growled in frustration, turning to punch a tree that stood behind him.
 
The rough bark scraped his knuckles causing them to bleed.
 
He body still ached from feeling her body against his, smelling her scent.
 
She belonged to him.
 
Didn’t she realize that?
 
He would have her and then flaunt that in front of Hawkescliffe.
 
The knowledge that he had been cuckolded would be enough to drive the proud man over the edge.
 
He might even let the duke watch as she fought him, and she would.
 
A Machiavellian grin spread across his face.

No, he would bide his time and wait for her.
 
In the meantime, he had a mission to fulfill.
 
He had to find that damn grail.

Chapter 27

Gabe entered the house and instructed Hamlin to bring clean cloths and fresh water to their bedchamber.
 
He then proceeded to carry her upstairs leaving a trail of water behind them.
 
His grandmother let out a sharp gasp as they passed.

“Oh, dear,” she laid a hand against her chest.
 
“I had a dream,” she trailed off.

“Grandmother, I can’t listen to your premonitions right now.”

“What happened?”

“I was there, and I’m still not sure.”

“Goodness.
 
Is that blood trickling down her cheek?”

“Yes.
 
Someone threw her from the footbridge and she hit her head.
 
She very nearly drowned.”

“Did you say someone threw her off a bridge?”

“I will explain later.”

“Should I call a doctor?” Judith asked, knowing her grandson would not appreciate her lecturing him about the dangers of his involvement in the war effort, commendable as it was.

“I don’t think so.”
 
He arrived at the door to the suite and Judith opened it to let him in.
 
He started to lay his precious burden on the bed before she stopped him.

“Everything will just be wet again.
 
Can we try to rouse her enough to change her?”

He lowered her feet to the floor and supported her weight against him.
 
“Kala, sweetheart, you have to wake up now.
 
Grandmother, pull the drapes.
 
She complained earlier about the brightness outside.”

“Does that mean...”

“I don’t know.
 
Kala, wake up,” he said in a much firmer voice.

“I am.
 
You don’t have to yell,” she whispered, a mutinous expression on her face and a crease between her brows.

“We need to get you out of these wet clothes.”

“My head is pounding.”

“I imagine so,” he replied.

Minutes later, her maid walked in with daywear in her hand.
 
She quickly took in the situation, announced she would be right back, and returned promptly with a nightgown.

“Gabe, wait outside.
 
We’ll call you when we need your help,” Judith said gently, knowing he hated leaving Mikala for a moment.
 
He moved to the adjoining room after grabbing a change of clothes.
 
Once he was dressed and dry he paced until they called him back.
 
He walked in and found his wife already in bed, her face pale and her eyes closed.
 
The blood had been cleaned from her face and a bruise had begun to develop around her temple.
 
“She’s asleep again.
 
We should probably wake her in a few hours to see if the bump did further damage.”
 

“I’ll stay with her.”

“I don’t mind doing it,” his grandmother offered.

“No.
 
I need to be with her.
 
I failed her once.
 
I won’t do it again.”
 
He pulled up a chair and sat down, his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped loosely together.
 
He stared intently watching the rise and fall of her chest.
 
That small movement reassured him that she remained with him.
 
Finally the door closed quietly and they were alone.
 
Kala had been injured before, but never before had he felt so helpless or murderous.