Free Lord Grayson's Bride by Tarah Scott

his lordship’s skull,” she told Mr. Halloway. “He will need assistance to walk. Perhaps you and the driver can bring him up.”
    Josephine caught the worried furrow on her mother’s brow as she inspected the young man’s back.
    “Bartholomew,” the young woman addressed the driver. “Are you well enough to assist?”
    “Aye, the wound isna’ bad.”
    “What of those two?” Mr. Halloway motioned to the two brigands.
    Josephine’s mother’s attention remained on the young man as she held her folded pelisse to his wound. “I doubt they will awaken, but leave your knife.”
    “My lady,” Mr. Halloway began.
    “Sir,” she swung her gaze onto him, “we have no time to lose. This man needs a doctor immediately. Please bring Lord Deeds, then we shall go on to Castle Cruden. It is closer than Barthmont Keep.”
    “You are right,” he said, and waved Bartholomew to accompany him.
    When the men disappeared into the trees, Josephine’s mother shocked her by standing and stepping out of the two petticoats she wore.
    “Mother,” Jo said, horrified. “What are you doing?”
    “Making a bandage.” She used her teeth to start a tear in one of the petticoats, then ripped it down one side. “What is your name?” she asked the girl as she folded the second petticoat.
    “Mary Ann Roberts. This is my brother, Lord Crawford.”
    “Mary Ann, you and my daughter will lift your brother upright so that I can wrap this fabric around him. Can you do that?”
    She nodded.
    “Each of you take a side. Josephine, keep the pelisse pressed firmly against the wound.”
    Josephine followed her directions, and she and Mary Ann lifted her brother into a sitting position. Jo’s mother made quick work of removing his jacket and Josephine stifled a gasp at sight of the blood that soaked the back of his white shirt.
    “Dear God,” his sister whispered, and Josephine feared the girl might faint. But she held her brother steady while Jo’s mother deftly wrapped the torn petticoat snugly around him. When they laid him down, Josephine released a slow breath in relief at sight of the continued rise and fall of his chest.
    “Do you really think he will live?” his sister asked.
    “I do,” Jo’s mother replied, and Josephine couldn’t halt the rush of pride when the girl looked at her mother with tears in her eyes.
    “Thank you, ma’am.”
    “Thank me when he is safely in bed.”
    Tears threatened Jo again. This was the mother she had known for twenty three years. Bold, confident...honorable. How could this woman have betrayed her husband and family?
    The men arrived, supporting Lord Deeds between them, and Josephine rose in an effort to find a distraction from the turmoil of her emotions. She held open the door as they put Lord Deeds and the young man into the carriage. They threw the two highwayman over the backs of horses—though Josephine wondered if the man her mother had shot would live—and Mr. Halloway rose with the driver up top. Jo’s mother sat on one cushion with the young man’s head in her lap, while the other three sat opposite them. Jo noticed the worry lines around her Mother’s eyes, which made her anxious for the young man’s life.
    It seemed hours before they reached Castle Cruden, though the ride was no more than twenty minutes. Lady Arlington welcomed them and immediately called for a doctor. Minutes later, a ruckus sounded outside the sitting room where Josephine and her mother waited, and Jo’s father and Nicholas burst into the room.

Chapter Eight
    Nicholas had never been so afraid in all his life as when the three ladies arrived at Barthmont Keep with news that their party happened upon highwayman robbing a carriage. If Jo was unharmed—and she would be, for he could consider nothing else—he planned to take her over his knee for not returning with the other women. Given the ashen look on Montagu’s face when he heard the news, Nick suspected the marquess planned for his wife the same