37
In a tricky manoeuvre the youthful footman whose freckles stood out against the pale skin opened the door which Cecilia was slumped against and managed to carry her out. Delilah jumped out behind them and appraised the situation. The axle of the carriage was broken in half and one wooden wheel was crushed. The driver was lying prone on the grassy bank on one side of the road obviously thrown off. He was conscious but had pinched look of discomfort on his face while he held his foot.
Delilah hastily pulled out and opened the latches of her personal travelling suitcase which she had been carrying with her. Inside were the usual toiletries that any Lady would carry while travelling but the internal cotton covered compartment carried no perfume bottles but herbs and potions. She carefully applied a small portion of a yellow spice mixture on Cecilia's head and pulled off her own travelling coat to cushion her cousin.
Delilah handed the footman a stoppered bottle, "This bottle contains smelling salts. Place them under Lady Cecilia's nose and if luck is on our side she will awaken."
The man did as he was told while Delilah rummaged though more of her belongings.
"Yarrow, yarrow, yes, here it is, Yarrow oil," The pale woman muttered while sorting through her tiny labelled bottles.
"What ails you, sir?" Delilah knelt next to the carriage driver, "I see a cut on your forehead and your ankle is swelling rapidly."
"Miss, I think that is the extent of my injuries. I've broken bones before and the pain is not as severe," The driver answered with a grimace.
"But we still need to give it an ice compress but where will we get any ice?" Delilah wondered out aloud. She was running through possible medicines she could use when she was faced with a most welcome interruption.
"Miss, I was working in the fields when I heard a loud crash," A tall, firmly built, dark haired man appeared from behind a path hidden by a thorny bush. He was wearing a coarse, brown shirt and woollen loose trousers.
"Thank you, kind sir, for coming to our aid, we indeed are in much peril," Delilah looked up at the man gratefully. The man looked out of breath and his hands were covered in dirt which was a typical sight for farmers hard at work.
"Here, I have some water in my flask," The man untied the belt around his waist and handed her a leather water skin.
"Lady Cecilia is awakening," The footman cried out enthusiastically from behind her.
"That is fortunate news, indeed. Now sir," Delilah addressed the driver, "This oil is yarrow mixed with cinnamon. It will reduce the bleeding. Above it I shall apply some aloe vera that will also sooth any inflammation you may have. Then I shall move to your foot. We might not be able to give it an ice compress but some beneficial oils like arnica, calendua and a bandage might help."
Delilah got busy attending to her patient while behind her Cecilia had opened her eyes and was grumbling about the horrid condition of the road, hoarsely. The farmer asked if there was something he could do to help and Delilah handed him some bandages. She knew he was staring at her frantic pace and the manic energy she was investing in looking after both her cousin and the driver but in a time like this propriety was hardly relevant.
"Now, hold on, sir, this might hurt," Delilah wrapped the bandage around the man's sprained foot. It did not look as neat she had remembered from the books she had read but the farmer and footman were just as clueless so it was all they could do.
"And Cecilia, John, you had better had drunk the turmeric powder down with the water," Delilah called out to her cousin and the footman who were sitting directly behind her. She tightened the knot while the farmer helped stabilize the driver's painful attempts at getting away from the necessary yet painful medical treatment. It was then she noticed something peculiar. The famer's hands were still encrusted with soil but his right hand contained a small band around one finger that couldn't be anything but gold. She might not know much about the latest fashions but she was not so poorly informed that she couldn't tell what was real and what was not. Her eyes trailed up his arm to his face and when her grey eyes met his brown ones she knew that he knew.
His arm clamped down firmly on one of her shoulders and he spoke in a clear, clipped accent that was not one farmer's traditionally possessed, "It would be prudent if you cease your struggles immediately."
"Who are you and why have you apprehended us in this fashion? We have jewellery. Take it and leave us be," Delilah uttered forcefully. She craned her neck and her heart skipped a beat after seeing Cecilia and John, the footman, prone on the grass. Behind them in a distance three men were walking intently from near the curve of the road.
"You think I want your personal belongings," The man stood up to his full height and smirked, "You are mistaken. I only wanted to meet the Lady who has captured wee Damian's heart."
"I gather this is not just a social call," Delilah suppressed a panicked laugh and looked back at the unmoving form of her cousin again, "What have you done to them?"
She gazed down at the driver; the whites of his eyes prominently stood out while he gazed at the knife that extended from the not-farmer's sleeve as it slightly grazed his face.
"You have your smelling salts and I have my own though the affects of each are distinctly opposite. That water you were so keenly passing around did not have the energizing effect you had so hoped," The man smiled patronizingly, "And let me guess your next question will be about my identity. Do you not see any familiarity, ah, but of course not, Damian and I go after our mothers."
"His uncle was caught with crime of espionage and treachery against the crown while his son has yet to be captured. I can easily surmise who you are but why us?" Delilah connected the dots though not completely.
"And I thought you looked smart," The dark haired man rolled his eyes. Before Delilah could even take a step backwards he had a cloth against her mouth. For a few moments the buzzing in her head increased until she could no longer bear it. The horizon titled unnaturally and she collapsed against the man who had planned for days to capture her.
__________________________________________
Delilah lashes fluttered open and instead of seeing the gold cornicing of her room she faced a grey igneous rock roof. Her hands and feet shuffled in an attempt to regain some strength and the first thing she noticed that she was lying in hay. Next to her on the hay was her cousin. Delilah would have mistaken her to be asleep if she did not know the truth.
"Ah, you have finally woken up," A man spoke abruptly causing Delilah to shoot up from her reclined position.
Her captor looked up from the documents he was perusing at a small circular table. Even though the cave had natural light cascading down from holes in the walls there were candles scattered in the room. The man was using the large one placed on the table for his reading. His attire was much altered from before. Now he wore a military standard, double breasted, green jacket with black trousers. His hair was now brushed and his hands looked much cleaner. Delilah was awed how much a person's clothing could change ones identity.
The man placed his papers on the table and abandoned them for her company which forced Delilah to struggle upwards on her trembling feet.
"Good evening, my Lady. It is unfortunate we meet in such regrettable circumstances but it was necessary," The man lifted her hand from her sides and made to kiss it but Delilah pulled her hand away with a frown adorning her face. She clasped the hand inside her other protectively against her chest.
"I understand your reluctance to be civil but you must understand you have much to lose if you do not," The ends of his lips bent in a cruel smile and it was then she saw some resemblance though the coldness the man in front of her conveyed was nothing Damian had ever shown her. He walked around her, languidly, in circles.
"Let us sit and have tea like two people who want to make important introductions," The man pointed at the table and chairs she had spied earlier.
"Let my cousin go. I will sit with you only then," Delilah held her ground.
"She is slumbering at present. Surely you will let Lady Cecilia have her rest. It was such a long journey," The man insisted with a veneer of politeness as his painful grip on her arms forced her to settle down the table dressed for two.
"If something happens to her," Delilah threatened with her finger pointing in his direction. He lowered it by hooking his own into it.
"Nothing will, if you cooperate," He looked at their entwined finger and she pulled away instantly, "Like I said, you have much to lose."
"My given name is Ferdinand and yours is Delia, no Delilah," Ferdinand smiled at his own stupidity which Delilah sternly refused to share. She craned her neck to view her still unconscious cousin when she remembered something.
"Where are the foot man and the carriage driver? You haven't-" Delilah looked around frantically hoping to see some sign of them. If they had been killed she would never forgive herself.
"I needed them to be alive. After all who will lead Damian to our position? The Prince cannot lose his way trying to rescue the captured damsel in distress, can he?" The Prince's cousin chuckled at his own joke, "Damian has surprised me, this time. I would have thought he was going to pursue some little chit half his age but instead he chose you. My man was mistaken earlier when he thought your cousin was the intended bride; A silly mistake but a valid one that nearly cost us. What did he see in you?"
"I am not privy to his private thoughts," Delilah replied curtly and placed her newly released hands into her lap.
"Hmm, I thought I was, especially in his choice of women. You have a tolerable nose, straight teeth, but, your eyes...." He pulled back as if he were seeing her for the first time, "I understand now. Your looks grow on a person. The more I look the more I see how he could find you pleasing."
"What do you want from me?" Delilah groused bitterly, annoyed that her market value was still counted in terms of looks. She had hoped she had outgrown the stage where all her features needed to be accounted for by every member of society she encountered.
"By now Damian will have read the lovely letter I have sent for him. And soon he shall be making an important journey on his own in an effort to save his lady love."
"He will never come," Delilah answered spitefully, "If your people are so worthy of the coins you bestow on them then they will have known how that I refused to marry him. Why would he tarry after a woman he barely knew and probably was never serious about?"
"Serious? He was serious enough to want to take you as his wife. That black ribbon in your braid certainly is the most telling," Ferdinand studied her hair with blatant amusement, "It is custom to give ones betrothed a black ribbon to ward off evil; an honour royalty bestows upon their intended. Everyone with royal blood knows that though that ribbon of yours has not saved you from harm as it should have."
"I am still convinced he shall not fall for this trap. Damian is not one to take rejection lightly. You are wasting your time," Delilah argued stubbornly letting her fingers run through her braid. Clearly Cecilia had had more conversations with the Prince if she was placing Royal objects in her hair.
"If you knew Damian any better then you would know he doesn't do anything by halves. If he has fallen for you then all the rejections on this earth will not stop him."
