The Viscount Who Loved Me (Bridgertons, #2)(107)

Once he entered the park, he made the decision to turn his mount and head over to Rotten Row. The busy path seemed the most likely destination for the threesome; Kate certainly would have no reason to encourage a more private route.

He nudged his horse into as fast a trot as he could safely manage within the confines of the park, trying to ignore the calls and waves of greeting that were directed his way by other riders and pedestrians.

Then, just when he thought he’d made it through without delay, he heard an aged, female, and very imperious voice call out his name.

“Bridgerton! I say, Bridgerton! Stop at once. I’m speaking to you!”

He groaned as he turned about. Lady Danbury, the dragon of the ton. There was simply no way he could ignore her. He had no idea how old she was. Sixty? Seventy? Whatever her age, she was a force of nature, and no one ignored her.

“Lady Danbury,” he said, trying not to sound resigned as he reined in his mount. “How nice to see you.”

“Good gad, boy,” she barked, “you sound as if you’ve just taken an antidote. Perk up!”

Anthony smiled weakly.

“Where’s your wife?”

“I’m looking for her right now,” he replied, “or at least I was.”

Lady Danbury was far too sharp to miss his pointed hint, so he could only deduce that she ignored him apur-pose when she said, “I like your wife.”

“I like her, too.”

“Never could understand why you were so set on courting her sister. Nice gel, but clearly not for you.” She rolled her eyes and let out an indignant huff. “The world would be a much happier place if people would just listen to me before they up and got married,” she added. “I could have the entire Marriage Mart matched up in a week.”

“I’m sure you could.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you patronizing me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Anthony said with complete honesty.

“Good. You always seemed like the sensible sort. I…” Her mouth fell open. “What the devil is that?”

Anthony followed Lady Danbury’s horrified gaze until his eyes fell on an open-topped carriage careening out of control as it rounded a corner on two wheels. It was still too far to see the faces of the occupants, but then he heard a shriek, and then the terrified bark of a dog.

Anthony’s blood froze in his veins.

His wife was in that carriage.

With nary a word to Lady Danbury, he kicked his horse into motion and galloped full speed ahead. He wasn’t sure what he’d do once he reached the carriage. Maybe he’d grab the reins from the hapless driver. Maybe he’d be able to pull someone to safety. But he knew that he could not sit still and watch while the vehicle crashed before his eyes.

And yet that was exactly what happened.

Anthony was halfway to the drunken carriage when it veered off the path and ran up over a large rock, upsetting the balance and sending it tumbling onto its side.

And Anthony could only watch in horror as his wife died before his eyes.





Chapter 22




Contrary to popular opinion, This Author is aware that she is viewed as something of a cynic.

But that, Dear Reader, could not be further from the truth. This Author likes nothing better than a happy ending. And if that makes her a romantic fool, so be it.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 15 JUNE 1814



By the time Anthony reached the overturned carriage, Edwina had managed to crawl from the wreckage and was clawing at a mangled piece of wood, trying to open a hole on the other side of the carriage. The sleeve of her dress was torn, and the hem was ragged and dirty, but she seemed not to notice as she tugged frantically at the door. Newton was jumping and squirming at her feet, his barks sharp and frenzied.

“What happened?” Anthony asked, his voice curt and panicked as he leapt from his horse.

“I don’t know,” Edwina gasped, wiping at the streaky tears that ran down her face. “Mr. Bagwell’s not such an experienced driver, I think, and then Newton got loose, and then I don’t know what happened. One minute we were rolling along, and the next—”

“Where is Bagwell?”

She motioned to the other side of the carriage. “He was thrown. He hit his head. But he’ll be all right. But Kate…”

“What about Kate?” Anthony dropped to his knees as he tried to peer into the wreckage. The entire carriage had overturned, smashing the right side of the vehicle as it had rolled. “Where is she?”

Edwina swallowed convulsively, and her voice barely rose above a whisper as she said, “I think she’s trapped beneath the carriage.”

In that moment Anthony tasted death. It was bitter in his throat, metallic and hard. It scraped his flesh like a knife, choking and squeezing, pulling the air from his very lungs.

Anthony yanked viciously at the wreckage, trying to open a wider hole. It wasn’t as bad as it had looked during the crash, but that did little to calm his racing heart. “Kate!” he yelled, trying to sound calm and unworried. “Kate, can you hear me?”

The only sound he heard in reply, however, was the frantic whinny of the horses. Damn. He’d have to get them unharnessed and loose before they panicked and started trying to drag the debris. “Edwina?” Anthony called sharply, looking over his shoulder.