Buried Secrets by Anne Barbour

Author:Anne Barbour [Barbour, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2000-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“My God!” breathed Cord. “I had no idea. .” He was forced to shout above the roar of the water. “That was a terrible storm, but how could this have happened overnight?”

“I ... don’t know,” Gillian shouted back, pale and shaken. “I suppose it’s a culmination of all the recent rains. It’s been the wettest season in years, but, I’ve never seen anything like this. The bridge—it’s simply been washed away as though it had never existed.”

“I must tell Jilbert to get something temporary constructed until we can build a new one. Or, no—I suppose that will have to wait until the spate slows and the water level falls. In the meantime, we must erect some sort of warning. Anyone driving at a fast pace here—coming around that curve without notice—might well tumble into the torrent.”

He turned to ride back along the curve in the road. Dismounting, he began to gather rocks, piling them in a small caim at the side of the road. He patted his clothing, searching, then lifted his eyes to Gillian, who still sat astride Falstaff, watching him wonderingly. She had never seen Cord move so briskly and with such purpose.

I wonder, my dear, would you be willing to contribute that extremely fetching scarf to a good cause?”

Glancing down, Gillian lifted her hand to her throat. In place of the stock she usually wore with her cinnamon-colored riding habit, she had chosen a scarf of a brilliant orange-red. She removed it and handed it to him. Working quickly, Cord secured the strip of brightly colored cloth to the top of the pile with one more large rock. He stepped back.

“There. We cannot do anything for riders coming from the other side of the river, but I hope we have warned those approaching from this side.”

Once astride his horse again, he made as though to wheel about, but stopped suddenly, frowning.

“Jilbert mentioned the tenants’ cottages—and the danger of flooding.”

Gillian gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. “Dear Heaven, do you think—?”

“What I think is that I’d better get over there.” His gaze met hers. “Do you mind riding back to Rose Cottage alone?”

“Of course not, but I’m not going to do any such thing!” In response to the question in his eyes, she flushed. “I am coming with you, of course. I may not be of much help piling sandbags, but perhaps there is something else I can do.”

Cord said nothing. He merely stared at her for a moment, then nodded.

The two found it difficult going as they retraced their steps to the washed-out bridge. They turned to ride along the path that led along the river, but soon had to make their own way farther from the rushing waters. As they progressed, on a slight decline, the area of flooding grew broader. By the time the first cottage was sighted, the horses were slogging in water up to their hocks. Gillian and Cord drew up abruptly as they absorbed the scene of chaos before them.

The

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