the surface of the stream and the cold and the force of her fall drove
the air from her lungs.
She fought her way to the surface of the river, and found she had been
washed some way downstream.
Impeded by her sodden clothing, she floundered to the bank and used the
branch of a tree to haul herself out.
She knelt in the mud, coughing up the water she had swallowed and trying
to assess what injury she had suffered in the collision. Then her own
plight was forgotten as she heard the terrible sounds of her mother's
agony from the overturned wreck of the Land Rover.
In frantic haste she clawed herself to her feet and stumbled through the
wet and frosted grass to where the Land Rover lay on its back at the
foot of the embankment.
The bodywork was crumpled and torn, and the bright silver aluminium
metal shone through where the dark green paint had been stripped away.
The engine had stalled, and the front wheels were still spinning
aimlessly as she reached it.
"Mummy! Where are you?" she cried, and the terrible sounds never
checked. She used the metal body of the vehicle to steady herself as she
dragged herself towards the sound, dreading what she might find.
Georgina sat on the wet earth with her back against the side of the car.
Her legs were thrust out straight ahead of her. The left one was twisted
so that the toe of the booted foot was pointed down into the mud at an
unnatural angle. The leg was obviously broken at the knee or very close
to it.
This was not the cause of Georgina's distress. She held Magic in her
lap, and was bowed over him in an attitude of abandoned grief; the sound
of it bubbled up unchecked from deep inside her. The spaniel's chest had
been crushed between metal and earth. His tongue lolled from the corner
of his mouth in his last smile, but the blood dripped steadily from the
pink tip and Georgina was using her scarf to wipe it away.
Royan sank down beside her mother and placed one arm around her
shoulders. She had never before seen her mother weep. She hugged her
hard and tried by main strength to quell the sound of her sorrow, but it
went on and on. , She never knew how long they sat together like that.
But at last the sight of her mother's maimed leg, and an awakening fear
that the driver of the truck might return to finish the job, roused her.
She crawled up the bank and tottered into the centre of the road to stop
the next car that arrived on the scene.
Not until Royan was two hours late for their meeting did Nicholas become
sufficiently worried to phone the police in York. Fortunately he had
noticed the licence plate of the Land Rover.
It was an easy one for him to remember. The registration number was his
mother's initials combined with an unlucky 13.
There was a delay while the woman constable checked her computer, and
then she came back. "I am sorry to have to tell you, sir, that Land
Rover was involved in an accident this morning."
"What happened to the driver? Nicholas demanded brusquely.
"The driver and one passenger have been taken to the York Minster
Hospital."
"Are they all right?"
"I am sorry, sir. I don't have that information." It took Nicholas forty
minutes to reach the hospital and almost as long again to trace Royan.
She was in the women's surgical ward, sitting beside her mother's bed.
Her mother had not yet come round from the anaesthetic.
She looked up when Nicholas stood over her. "Are you all right? What the
hell happened?"
"My mother - her leg is badly smashed up. The surgeon had to put a pin
in her thigh - the femur.
"How are you?"
"A few bruises and scrapes. Nothing serious., "How did it happen?"
"A truck - it pushed us off the road."
"Not deliberate?" Nicholas felt something inside him quail as he
remembered another truck on another road on another night.
I think so. The driver wore a mask, a balaclava. He crashed into us from
behind. It must have been deliberate."
"Did you tell the police?"
She nodded. "Apparently the truck was reported stolen early this
morning, long before the accident, while the driver was stopped at one
of those Little Chef cafes. He is German. Speaks no English."
"That is the third time they have tried to kill you," Nicholas told her
grimly. "So I am taking over now."
He went out into the hospital waiting room and used the telephone there.
The chief constable of the county was a personal friend, as was the
hospital administrator.
By the time he returned, Georgina had come round from the anaesthetic.
Although still woozy she was comfortable as they wheeled her off to the
private ward that Nicholas, had arranged. The - orthopaedic surgeon
arrived a few minutes later.
"Hello, Nick, what are you doing here?" he greeted Nicholas. Royan was
surprised how many people knew him.
Then he turned his attention to Georgina. "How are you feeling? We have
got ourselves a nice little compound fracture. Looks like confetti in
there. We've managed to put it all together again, but you're going to
be with us for ten days at the very least."
"Right you are, young lady," Nicholas told Royan as they left Georgina
sleeping. "What more do you need to convince you? My housekeeper has
made up a room for you at the Hall. I am not letting you wander around
on your own any more. Otherwise, next time they try to cull you they may
have a little more luck."
She was still too shaken and upset to argue, and she climbed meekly into
the front seat of the Range Rover and let him drive her first to have
her stitches removed and then back to Quenton Park. As soon as they
arrived, he sent her up to her bedroom.
"The cook will send dinner up to you. Make sure you take the sleeping
pill that the doc gave you. Somebody will fetch your gear from 's
cottage to Mrs. Street. In the meantime my housekeeper has set out some
nightclothes and a toothbrush in your room for you. I don't want to hear
from you again before tomorrow morning."
It was good to have him take control of her life. For the first time
since that terrible night at the oasis she felt secure and safe. Still,
she made one last gesture of independence and self-reliance; she flushed
the Mogadon sleeping tablet down the toilet.
The nightdress that was laid on her pillow was full, length sheer silk
with finest Cambrai lace at the cuffs and It. . A robe. She had never
worn anything so luxurious and sensual against her skin before. She
realized that it must have belonged to his wife, and the knowledge
stirred mixed emotions in her. She climbed up into the four-poster bed,
but even that lonely expanse of over'soft mattress and her unfamiliar
surroundings did not keep her too long from sleep.
ù the morning a young housemaid woke her with aù copy of The Times and a
pot of Earl Grey tea, then returned a few minutes later with her
holdall.
"Sir Nicholas would like you to take breakfast with him in the dining
room at eight-thirty., While she showered Royan inspected her naked body
in the full-length mirror that covered one wall of -the bathroom. Apart
from the knife wound on her -arm, which was still livid and only
partially healed, there was a dark bruise on her thigh and another down
her left flank and buttock, legacies of the car crash. Her shin was
scraped raw, and gingerly she pulled a pair of socks over the injury.
She limped a little as she went down the main staircase to find the
dining room.
"Please help yourself." Nicholas looked up from his newspaper to greet
her as she hesitated in the doorway. He waved at the display of