Ch 70

Ch 70
We'll go down to the hotel, Mary," she announced to the maid, pulling from her bag the London guidebook she had taken from the library.
 Let's see which one is the most suitable..The horses slowed as they took the path that led to the bridge over the river. 
Eden glanced out the door at the fog-shrouded landscape, then back to her guide. 
“The Pulteney looks to be the most comfortable and central," she explained, trying to keep her tone light, "but it's certainly very expensive. Let's see.”
The sedan lurched forward and, at the sound of hooves on logs, Jimin realized they had reached the bridge. 
There was a terrible creak. 
The coachman screamed and the sedan pitched sideways. Eden tried to grab hold of Amara, but her hands could only clasp Mary's dress as Icy water invaded the darkened cabin. They had fallen into the river.
Ian waded to the edge of the torrent, the water almost completely submerging his high boots.
“Too late," he announced. The dam's already broken. 
There's no way of repairing it now, with all this water…
“Better take a look at the bridge below, milord," said Murrow, the village carpenter, pushing back his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. It's not very solid. I warned your brother several times about this, but he didn't want to spend the money.”
“Let's get on with it. Who's that coming over there? Wilkins?”
A rider was indeed approaching at a gallop along the muddy bank. 
It was indeed the groom, who slipped off the horse he was bareback riding.
“Milady, sir," he shouted. 
“The carriage.” He pointed to the river below. “The bridge has collapsed.”
“What do you mean, the carriage? Isn't Eden at the castle?” Already, fear was knotting Ian’s stomach.
“No, Milord. She said she wanted to go to London.”
"Oh, my God, Eden!"
“Murrow, take all available men, horses, ropes, planks, quick!”
The carpenter was a mature, experienced man. He would know what had to be done. Ian jumped on his horse.

By the time she managed to get back on her feet, she was in the water, and in almost complete darkness. 
Panic-stricken, it took her some time to realize what had happened.
“Amara! Mary!”
The sedan echoed with the child's cries. “Here!" replied the maid, panting.
Eden turned and saw her raising the baby above her head.
“Pass her to me," she said, "I'm taller than you are. Can you stand up on the armrest?”
The car was overturned and a dark mass was coming through the door.
“I think so.”
The young girl wobbled to her feet, her head and shoulders pressed against the car's upholstery. 
Eden in turn climbed onto the seat. The blanket Amara was wrapped in was wet, but not completely soaked.
“Let's put her in the luggage net.”
The maid jumped up to grab the net and hold it out, while Eden placed the wriggling bundle in it. 
The net, hanging from the cabin roof, was tilted at an unusual angle, but at least it was out of the water.
 For a moment, Eden was relieved; but soon, she felt an icy cold invade her legs, as if in a vice, under the weight of her coat and mud-soaked skirt.   
How long could she last in these conditions? 
She screamed.
“Help! Help!”
The coachman and the footman must have been injured and unconscious, or they would certainly have tried something.
“Are we going to drown?" asked Mary, trembling.
“Of course not”
But they might freeze to death if someone  doesn’t come to their aid soon.
“Hang in there. We've got to keep out of the water as much as possible. There, Amara, there .shhh..  Mommy's here.”
The car began to wobble again. Eden realized with dread that, if it slid any further, the current might carry them away, the cabin might fill with water and become a death trap.
"Oh, Ian , I'm sorry! I love you so much. Come and save me, my love, I beg you, come!"