His first priority was seeing to his fallen coachman. After lighting the carriage lamps, Thorne turned the coach around and climbed into the box to drive. Diana sat beside him, since she refused to remain alone inside. Moreover, he needed her help in searching for his missing servants. He found them more than a mile back. The coachman was clearly not dead, indicated by his alternating curses and groans. The footman was supporting the injured man’s head, trying to keep him comfortable. Both men asserted that the highwaymen had fled back in the direction of Richmond, with the coachman terming the brigands “bloody cowards” and lamenting that he’d had no chance even to draw his blunderbuss before they shot him. The coachman had been struck in the shoulder, Thorne saw when he knelt to inspect the damage. The wound was unlikely to be fatal, but the ball would have to be removed as soon as possible. “He needs a surgeon,” Diana said, voicing Thorne’s thoughts. He nodded, deciding it best to head directly for his own mansion in Mayfair, where his surgeon could be quickly fetched.
