A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 152 - Hundred And Fifty Two

Rowan threw his massive body forward. He crossed the small space between the seats in a single, desperate lunge. He crashed into her, pushing her flat against the padded velvet seat. He shielded Delaney entirely with his own body. He wrapped his strong arms securely around her head, burying her face into his chest, and turned his own back to the hard wooden wall of the cabin.

Delaney remembered. This was what her parents did to save her. They risked their lives just to make sure she was safe and Rowan was doing the same thing.

The world turned completely upside down.

Wood splintered with a deafening, horrific crack. The glass windows shattered into thousands of tiny, sharp pieces, flying through the air like silver rain. The heavy carriage rolled over, tumbling violently down the muddy embankment beside the road.

Delaney was tossed like a rag doll, but she felt no hard impacts. She only felt Rowan’s powerful arms holding her in a tight, crushing grip. She heard him grunt in pain as his back and head slammed repeatedly against the breaking wood and the tumbling roof.

The carriage rolled twice before it finally slammed into the base of a large, thick oak tree.

The impact was brutal. The metal frame groaned, the horses screamed, and then, suddenly, everything went completely, terrifyingly still.

A thick, heavy silence fell over the wrecked carriage. The only sound was the soft patter of mud dripping from the broken wheels and the harsh, ragged breathing of the horses up.

Delaney lay perfectly still for a long moment. Her ears were ringing loudly. The air smelled of broken wood, wet dirt, and blood.

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

She was lying on her side, tangled in the torn velvet cushions. She pushed herself up slightly. Her hands were shaking violently. She looked down at her own body. Her dark gray traveling dress was torn at the sleeves, and she had minor scratches on her arms from the flying glass. But she was whole. No bones were broken. She was alive.

She heard a loud groan coming from outside the broken cabin. She looked through the shattered window frame and saw the driver. He had been thrown from the high box into the soft mud. He was clutching his shoulder, groaning in pain, but he was sitting up. His injuries were not life-threatening.

Delaney let out a small, shaky breath of relief.

Then, she turned her head to look inside the wrecked cabin.

"Rowan," she whispered, her voice trembling.

She prayed to see him sitting up, brushing the dirt from his expensive coat, making a dry, sarcastic comment about the terrible state of the roads.

But she saw him lying completely still.

He was slumped against the broken wooden door of the carriage. His eyes were closed. His face was dangerously pale.

"Rowan?" she said, her voice rising in pitch.

She crawled over the broken debris, ignoring the sharp pain of a piece of glass cutting her palm. She reached his side. She placed her trembling hands on his broad chest. It was rising and falling, but the breaths were very shallow and very slow.

She shook his shoulder gently. "Rowan, wake up. It is over."

He did not move. He was completely unconscious.

Delaney moved closer. She reached out to brush his blond hair away from his face. As her fingers touched his hair, she felt something warm and incredibly sticky.

She pulled her hand back. Her fingers were coated in bright, dark red blood.

He was bleeding heavily from a terrible gash on the side of his head, right where he had struck the hard wooden frame of the carriage while protecting her.

Panic, pure and absolute, exploded in Delaney’s chest. The terrible nightmare of her childhood was happening all over again. The man she loved was bleeding out in a wrecked carriage in the mud, and she was entirely alone.

She grabbed his coat lapels, shaking him harder this time.

"ROWAN!!!" she screamed. Her voice tore from her throat, raw and filled with agonizing fear. "Rowan, please! Open your eyes!"

He remained completely still. The blood continued to trail down the side of his face, staining his crisp white cravat a horrifying shade of crimson.

Delaney scrambled toward the broken window frame. She pulled herself up, her hands slipping on the wet wood, and looked out at the empty, muddy country road. There were no other carriages. There were no travelers. They were completely isolated. It would take minutes, even hours to see another carriage or even a wagon pass by.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!!!" Delaney screamed to the empty sky. "HELP US! PLEASE!"

Her voice echoed through the quiet trees, but no answer came. The driver was too hurt to stand, and Rowan was slipping further into the darkness.

Delaney dropped back down into the ruined cabin. She pulled Rowan’s heavy head gently into her lap, ignoring the blood soaking into her gray woolen dress. She cradled his face in her shaking hands.

Hot, thick tears spilled from her hazel eyes, dropping rapidly onto his pale cheeks. She used her ruined shawl to try and stop the bleeding. She stroked his face with her other hand, smearing the trickled blood and the dirt.

"I am no longer angry," Delaney cried, her voice breaking into harsh, painful sobs. "Do you hear me? I am not angry at you! I am so sorry I ignored you!"

She wrapped her shawl on his head and leaned her face down, pressing her forehead against his cold cheek. Her entire body shook with violent, uncontrollable weeping.

She was completely broken.

"Please open your eyes," Delaney begged him, rocking him gently in her arms. "You promised you would help me. You promised to protect me. You cannot leave me."

She kissed his forehead, tasting salt and copper.

"Don’t leave me too, please," Delaney wept, clutching him as tightly as she possibly could. "Please, Rowan. Do not leave me. I don’t want to be alone again."