Page 64 of The Wedding Challenge

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CALLIE STARED AT THE BUTLER, the blood draining from her face. “What? My brother?”

She pushed past Fenton into the hall and saw a man standing in the entryway, his hat in his hand. He looked travel-stained and tired. Callie rushed down the hall toward him.

“You have word of the Duke of Rochford?” she asked before she reached him. “Is he hurt?”

“He is alive, my lady,” the man said hastily. “But he was in an accident. Here is a letter for you.” He extended a folded and sealed sheet of paper to her.

Callie took it. Across the front of it was written The Lady Calandra Lilles.

Quickly she turned the note over and ripped open the seal. With hands that trembled, she unfolded the letter. At the top right-hand side were written the words Blackfriars Cope Cottage, Lower Upton and the date. Her eyes dropped to the salutation and she began to read:

Dear Lady Calandra Lilles,

I am sorry to report to you that the Duke of Rochford was in a carriage mishap on the road near my cottage. My husband and his man carried him to our house, and the doctor was called. His left leg and several ribs were broken, but other than that, he is well. He is awake and asked me to write and ask you to come. The doctor does not want to move him.

Sincerely yours,

Mrs. Thomas Farmington

Callie let out a little sigh of relief and looked up at the messenger. “He is truly all right?”

“I haven’t seen him, miss. I only know what Mrs. Farmington told me. But she said to tell you he was fine.”

“I will go at once. If you can tell me exactly where this Lower Upton is…”

“It’s in Buckinghamshire, my lady. Mrs. Farmington told me to hire a chaise to take you there as soon as I brought you the message.”

“Thank you. That would be very good. I will just pack a few things, and we can be on our way.”

The man nodded and left, and Callie turned to find the butler standing a few steps behind her, his expression once again suitably under control.

“Good. Then you heard?” At Fenton’s nod, she went on. “I will pack a small bag and leave immediately. I will leave you a note to give to Lady Haughston.”

“Very good, my lady. I will send your maid to you.”

Callie nodded and flew up the stairs. Her thoughts were tumbling around in her mind, and her heart was pounding. How badly was Sinclair hurt? Mrs. Farmington had taken care to reassure her that he was all right, but the woman doubtless would have been reluctant to have written a bald statement of the truth if his condition was very bad. He could be seriously injured, even close to death. And though he might only have broken a few bones, Callie was well aware of how quickly such a thing could turn into a dangerous fever and illness, even death. Even if a worse illness did not develop, Callie was sure that he was probably in great pain and in need of the care of someone besides strangers. She was determined to reach him as soon as possible.

Buckinghamshire was not terribly far away, she thought, as she began opening her drawers and throwing clothes onto the bed to be packed. She should be able to get there by tonight.

Belinda popped into the room, her eyes big in her white face. “His Grace is injured, my lady?”

“Yes, but I am sure he will be fine,” Callie said stoutly. “He has broken a few bones. I am going to him at once.”

“Yes, miss, I’ll set to packing right away.”

“Just put enough things for a day or two into a bag,” Callie told her. “I am leaving immediately. But I fear that I might be there some time, so pack a trunk with more clothes, and you can bring it there to me on the mail coach as soon as I send you word to come. I do not know what the situation is. If it turns out we are able to move him, we will return to Lilles House.”

While Belinda packed her a bag, Callie sat down to write a quick note to Francesca, explaining where she was going and why. Fenton would tell Francesca the general story of what had happened, Callie knew, but she thought it best that she relate the exact details and tell Francesca where Sinclair was. She ended the note with a promise to send word as soon as she saw Sinclair and could more accurately describe his condition. Even though Rochford and Francesca had not parted on the best of terms the last time he was here, Callie was certain that Francesca would want to know how he was.

That task done, she folded and sealed the note, and handed it to Fenton to give to Lady Haughston as soon as she returned. By that time Belinda had finished with her bag and the messenger had returned with the post chaise. Callie did not take the time to change into a traveling dress; she simply replaced her soft slippers with a sturdier pair of boots and threw her heavy cloak around her shoulders.

She climbed into the post chaise, and they set off only slightly more than half an hour after she had received the message. Callie settled a little breathlessly into her seat and for the first time allowed herself to think of something other than the practical problems of rushing to her brother’s side.

Her mind went first to his injuries. She pulled Mrs. Farmington’s note from the pocket of her dress, where she had stuffed it after she read it, and perused it again, more slowly this time. She could get nothing more from it regarding his injuries, unfortunately, and she was left to wonder how the accident had occurred and how badly he had been hurt. The dry recital of a broken leg and a few ribs did not really give a good picture of Sinclair’s condition. Of course, the woman had doubtless written the note in haste; Callie could not really carp about her not providing enough details. But Callie did wish she knew more about the matter. Had the break been severe? She had seen or heard enough about injuries around their estate to know that there was a great deal of difference between a simple broken bone, easily enough set, and a leg that had been broken in more than one place or had bone piercing the skin.

She shuddered at the pictures she was conjuring up and tried to think of something else. Had Sinclair been driving himself in his curricle? Or had he been in the grand ducal carriage driven by Haskell, their head coachman? Neither of them was the sort to have an accident, so she assumed that it was probably the fault of another driver, but Mrs. Farmington had not mentioned anyone else being hurt. But then again, the woman had clearly not taken the time to explain the accident in detail.