Elizabeth did sit down, without argument at her husband's command, an unusually meek action, but she turned to Mr Anderton and Mr Dawson. "Charles, John, did you find her?"

A look was exchanged between the two men, Mr Anderton spoke first. "There was no sign of her."

"No sign of her?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. "How can that be? Where could she possibly have gone?"

"Elizabeth," Mr Dawson said gently. "We cannot be sure, but the only sign of anything was some blood on a large stone. We checked the area thoroughly, but there was no sign of her. We have no idea where she is."

"She can't just have disappeared!" Elizabeth almost wailed. "Oh, how am I going to tell Stephen?"

"Tell Stephen what?" came a voice from the doorway.

Elizabeth gasped, "Stephen! We were not expecting you yet."

"Obviously," Stephen said abruptly. "Now can you please explain what has happened that is so bad that you are afraid to tell me?"

"Halkyn, my wife has been through enough today," Michael said sharply.

"And I see that Miss Webster is missing, so am guessing she has had some involvement with the events of the day," Stephen responded brusquely. He could not help himself; his feeling of panic was increasing by the minute.

"We were taken by Mr Watson," Elizabeth started to explain quietly. "He was determined that I was going to die today and I didn't want Charlotte involved, so I asked him to release her."

"So, where is she?" Stephen persisted, his heart pounding with apprehension, but the only outward sign of his discomfort was a deep frown as he stared at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry Stephen, he pushed her out of the carriage!" she sobbed.

"He did what?!" Stephen shouted. "Where is she?" He felt as if a hand had gripped his chest and was squeezing the breath out of him.

"We don't know," Mr Dawson intervened.

"You don't know?" Stephen said incredulously. "A girl is pushed from a moving carriage and you can't find her?"

"They saw some blood," Elizabeth sobbed.

"This gets worse," Stephen ground out. Mr Peters had stood behind him the whole time, but took the opportunity to step forward.

"Where was the blood?" he asked.

Michael looked at the stranger. "I presume you are the Bow Street Officer?"

"Yes, my Lord. Peters, at your service. I'm presuming that the threat from Mr Watson has been removed?"

"Yes, he was shot and killed today, when his attempted kidnap of my wife and Miss Webster failed," Michael explained.

"Good, at least there is no further danger from him. If someone could direct us to the location where the blood was seen?" Peters persisted.

"I will take you," Mr Dawson said, moving towards the door.

The three gentlemen left the room and the remaining occupants fell into a silence that was broken by Violet. "I don't understand, how was he killed?"

"Not now, Violet," Michael said gruffly, still trying to protect Elizabeth from going over the events of the day.

Elizabeth moved slightly away from her husband. "It's fine, I will need to speak to the magistrate at some point anyway. He was going to kill me, he said that he was. As he said, he had nothing to lose anymore. Michael and I had talked through every possible eventuality we could think of, one of which was if I was in one of the carriages with him."

"Good thinking Michael," Edward said with approval.

"Once I was alone, I thought I may have a chance of finishing it, but I didn't want anyone being caught in the middle. When the opportunity was right I managed to pull out one of the guns that had been hidden in the carriages. Four guns in each carriage, one on the window side of each seating bench. I needed to prime it before I pulled it out, but because of their position I was able to do that without his notice. When it reached the point that I thought there was no other way I could persuade him to stop, I took the gun out and shot him," Elizabeth said with a shudder.

"You did the right thing, the man was mad," Edward said rea.s.suringly.

"I know it was the correct thing to do if I was to have any chance of surviving, but it doesn't alter the fact that I have killed someone. I shall have to live with that until the day I die," Elizabeth said sadly. "The expression of shock on his face I shall never forget."

"You had no other choice," Michael soothed. "We went over this beforehand. You would only act if there was no other way."

"I know, but at the moment, it doesn't make it easier. Would you mind if I retired to my bed chamber? I suddenly feel the need to lie down," Elizabeth said quietly.

Stephen's horse needed to rest, but he pushed it on. He had to find her, she could not be dead. People tumbled out of carriages and survived, they had to. If she had not been at the location that she fell, then perhaps she had been hurt and wandered off in a daze. They needed to find her before nightfall, she could be feeling disorientated. Once he found her, he would tell her how worried he had been about his tiger and she would laugh at him and her eyes would twinkle as she smiled, and his chest would feel less tight and he would be able to breathe properly again. He had to find her.

Mr Dawson led them to the road, it was a rough area and at the side of the road, there were a number of stones. One clearly had fresh blood on it. The three men dismounted and looked at the stone, as if it would reveal its secrets.

Mr Peters was the first to move, beginning to search the surrounding ground. After a few moments he straightened. "There is no other indication of blood, which is a good sign," he said.

"She can't have gone far, she was injured and on foot," Stephen said grimly.

"If she walked somewhere, she will have left some sort of trail. Look for any disturbance on the ground, footprints would be ideal, but I don't think we'll be lucky enough to find them. Look for broken branches over there in the woodland, or gra.s.s that has been flattened. Anything that would suggest that someone has walked through it," Mr Peters directed.

Both men followed his lead and searched the area in detail. Every possible route was checked and rechecked for any sign that Charlotte had moved that way.

After half an hour Mr Peters called them together. "She did not leave here on foot," he said, completely sure he was correct.

"How did she leave then? She was alone, and thrown from a carriage, for goodness' sake!" Stephen snapped, his nerves stretched beyond breaking point.

"Someone must have come to her aid," Mr Peters replied calmly, ignoring the tone of voice from Stephen.

"This isn't a well used road by the state of the road and surrounding area," Mr Dawson suggested, looking at the growth of gra.s.s between the ruts in the road. Nothing could grow on the busier roads.

"Then that should make things easier," Mr Peters said. "I suggest you two gentlemen return to the house and I shall continue my enquiries."

"I'm coming with you," Stephen said belligerently.

"If she is injured, which the blood on the stone would suggest, she will need care when we return. From the look of the others, no one there is in any fit state to look after an injured person. If you go back and rest she will be able to rely on your help and support, should she need it," Peters' voice was calm but firm.

Stephen listened and after a very short time, he nodded his agreement and climbed onto his horse. "Peters?" he said.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Thank you."

Chapter 19.

Charlotte awoke to the sound of whispered voices. She opened her eyes slowly, trying to remember what day it was. She was sure it could not be morning, but not understanding why she would still be in bed.

"She's awake," a voice said and there was a flurry of activity at the bottom of her bed.

Charlotte tried to move her head, but a sharp pain at her left side made her wince.

"Don't move my dear; you've been in a fall. You had us worried for a time, but the doctor was sure that you would wake," came a soothing voice.

Charlotte struggled to recognise the voice, but she did not. The face that appeared over her was unfamiliar and Charlotte frowned. "Where am I? What happened?" she asked, reaching to feel the side of her face. The woman who tended her was around the age of forty, rotund in shape, but her heavily lined face was filled with nothing but concern for her young patient.

"All in good time, all in good time," the soothing voice continued. "We can go over that when you feel more like yourself."

Charlotte felt the pad of a dressing on her left cheek, which carried on to the side of her eye. She struggled to try and remember what had happened to cause such an injury. "Where am I?" she persisted.

"You are safe, in a farmhouse, just a mile or two outside of the village of Colerne."

Charlotte frowned. Safe. She had felt safe recently. The feeling puzzled her, why had she needed to feel safe? It caused another feeling, one she could not quite grasp; it was just out of her reach. She was in a farm outside of Colerne. It was a place she had never heard of.

"I'm sorry, I must appear rude, I don't remember ever visiting Colerne," she explained, frowning as she tried to remember.

"You probably haven't ever been here. You took a tumble a few miles away. We found you on the road and brought you back to the farmhouse. There was no sign of a horse, so it must have bolted when you fell. You need to rest; you've had a b.u.mp to the head."

"It's all so unclear," Charlotte muttered, but the thought of resting was tempting, she felt very tired.

"You go to sleep and we can talk more later, but before you do I need to ask you one thing, do you remember your name?"

Charlotte smiled slightly, even though every movement seemed to hurt. "Of course I remember my name," she replied sleepily. "I'm Miss Charlotte Webster of Miss Humphrey's school for ladies."

It was two long days before Peters returned to the worried residents of Dunham House. Stephen had been acting like a caged animal, pacing each room and needing to almost be physically restrained by Lord Dunham to prevent him taking off on a search of his own.

Peters looked exhausted when he returned and accepted the gla.s.s of brandy that Lord Dunham offered with a grateful look. Stephen had to bite back his impatience while the officer took a large swig.

Elizabeth entered the study where the three men were gathered and approached Mr Peters. "You look fit to collapse, but before we arrange food and rest, please tell us what you found."

Peters breathed heavily. "She is alive," he said simply.

Elizabeth sank down in her seat, suddenly realising that she had been holding her breath. "Thank G.o.d," she whispered, fighting back tears of relief.

"Why did you not bring her back?" Stephen demanded roughly, almost joining Elizabeth in shedding tears, he felt so lightheaded.

"She is being cared for by a family on a remote farm. They must have come across her quite soon after the accident happened," Peters explained, ignoring Stephen's outburst. "They used the farm cart to transport her back and called the doctor when they returned. She was unconscious and had a head wound, so they didn't have much hope of her recovery."

Stephen took a sharp intake of breath. "But she lives?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely.

"She lives and she has regained consciousness, which was in doubt when they first found her," Peters explained. "She has a wound to the head. The doctor has told the family that she has been very lucky."

"She has, to be alive after falling from a high speed carriage; it is little short of a miracle," Michael said.

"I've spoken to the doctor and took the liberty of explaining a little of what happened," Peters continued. "Without giving any details that would cause gossip of course," he a.s.sured Lord Dunham.

"Of course," Michael replied. He had barely met the officer, but he had total faith in his abilities. It could have something to do with the seriousness of his eyes, or the gravity of his demeanour. Whatever it was, Michael would have trusted him with anything.

"What did the doctor say?" Elizabeth asked, dreading the news that her friend could be permanently injured.

"He said that the fact that the push from the carriage was so unexpected probably saved her life. She had no time to respond, to tense before she hit the ground, so the injury was minimal. In his opinion normally she would not have survived. He said with the continued help of G.o.d, she will be fine," Peters explained.

"The man is a fool!" Stephen snapped. Until he had Charlotte back under the same roof that he was under, he would not settle and he would not apologise for his poor behaviour. The last two days had been the worst of his life and he needed to see Charlotte and tell her of his feelings. He had finally realised that he could not live without her in his life, and the need to tell her was driving him insane.

"We shall make arrangements for her return as soon as the doctor says she is well enough to be moved," Michael said, ignoring Stephen's outburst. He had some sympathy with what he imagined he was going through.

"There is something else," Peters said cautiously, not meeting the penetrating glare emitting from Stephen.

"What is it?" Michael asked.

"She has told them that she is Miss Charlotte Webster from Miss Humphrey's school of ladies," Peters said calmly.

"What?!" Stephen exploded.

Peters did not flinch, but this time met Stephen's eye. "She has lost the last few months' memories. Whether it is permanent or not, the doctor does not know. He said that time will tell."

Elizabeth turned to Stephen, "She will remember you as soon as she sees you," she a.s.sured him. Her heart had twisted to see the pained expression on her friend's face.

"Will she?" Stephen asked. For once his bravado had deserted him and he realised that he could have lost her even though she was alive. The feeling that she could forget him stung like nothing else he had ever experienced. He was desolate.

"Of course," Elizabeth said firmly. "One does not forget such strong feelings, no matter what may happen."

"If I may interrupt, Lady Dunham," Peters said. "The doctor has advised only the minimum of visiting initially. He does not know what damage too much activity or excitement will cause to her brain."

"We shall do nothing that would risk harming her," Elizabeth said firmly. "I will visit her first and slowly she will return to us." She turned to Stephen, "Patience, my friend, she will come back to us, I know she will."

Chapter 20.

Two days later Elizabeth set out with Violet to visit Charlotte. The carried with them flowers, fruit and cakes, along with the good wishes of most of the household. As they travelled in the carriage, the sight of Stephen prowling over the parkland stuck in Elizabeth's mind. He had promised not to visit Charlotte, but she could see that such a promise had cost him dearly.