Chapter Twelve
“I am thankful your sister allowed you a private carriage ride to Wolfebourne Lodge, since we promised to make the journey in a day. After all, one can get quite close during a long carriage ride.”
“Yes, but do not forget that my maid is in the next coach, riding with the abundance of gifts for Gracie, little Remy, and Gwynnie.” Joy glanced out the back window and waved at Flora.
The maid had chosen to ride atop with the driver in order to be somewhat of a chaperone, even though Joy and Jansen were in the carriage in front of them.
Thank goodness Flora and Jasper had such a good rapport.
So good, in fact, that Joy often wondered if the friendship between the maid and the Broadmere coachman was more than the simple friendship of working in the same household. “At least we may speak uninhibited.”
“Which raises the question: What wedding date are you going to choose, my angel?”
“I am not certain.” The horde of creatures in her stomach furiously batted their wings, making her swallow hard. “What date would you pick, sir?”
“Yesterday.”
She laughed and arched a brow. “I fear that is not an option. Unless you have a direct line to the Almighty so He might turn back the clock for you.”
Jansen took both her hands in his. “I am ready to be your husband as soon as possible. Today is not soon enough, my love.” But his troubled expression gave her pause.
“What is it?”
“What is your true reason for delaying in choosing a date?” He slowly shook his head. “We both know that meeting your sisters was not the real reason you refused to have the banns read.”
“Capturing the blackmailer.” That wasn’t the truth of it either, but he was not to know that.
“Joy.”
“I hate it when you say my name like that.”
“Then tell me the truth, so we might work through this. I do not wish for more delays once we have met with your last sister.”
She stared down at their clasped hands, scrambling for a witty retort. Problem was, she had none. “I fear becoming an adult,” she whispered, closing her eyes like a child afraid to look.
“What?” He shifted closer, making her open her eyes. “Did you say you fear becoming an adult?”
She barely nodded, chewing on her bottom lip until it almost hurt.
“But you are an adult.”
“Not really.” She eased her hands out of his and turned to stare out the carriage window.
“I do not manage a household, servants, or any schedule other than my own. I don’t host parties, mother children, or consult a husband whenever I wish to do something.
” She twitched a shrug. “I answer to and take care of no one but myself.”
“You answer to your brother.”
“Only after he has bellowed my name several times over.”
“But you are going to marry me?”
She bit her lip harder and nodded. “Yes. Because my love for you is stronger than my fear of change. I am simply struggling to listen to the love part rather than the fear.”
“Let me help you listen to the love.” Jansen leaned forward for a kiss but was interrupted by a very loud “Oy!” from the carriage behind them.
Joy laughed and scooted farther away from him into the corner on her side of the carriage. “It appears that Jasper is helping Flora in her chaperone duties.”
“It would seem so.” Jansen shot a glaring scowl out the back window.
The carriage rolled to a stop, making Joy peer outside. “This should be the last stop before we reach Wolfebourne. It’s not all that much farther. Good. I could use a bit of a walk around and a cool drink.”
As they descended from the carriage, she frowned up at the ever-darkening sky. “It appears we had better enjoy our walk while we can do it in the dry. Look at those clouds.”
“Aye, milady. Storm’s a-comin’,” shouted a lad as he ran to help Copper water the horses. He stuck his stub of a nose in the air. “Smell that rain? Me mam says a fierce one’s coming today. Feels it in her bones, she says.”
They hurried inside the small home that served as a way station for those passing through the area. The boy and his mother had discovered a fine way other than farming as a means of survival.
“Mam just laid a table full of meats and cheeses,” the boy said as he showed them to the benches beside a long trestle table. “Fresh-baked bread there, and today’s butter too. If’n you are hungry, that is. The cost ain’t too dear.”
“A glass of cider wouldn’t go amiss with our feast,” Jansen told the boy. “Or beer. Have you either?”
“Gots’m both, milord. Just tell Mam what you want.”
“Sounds lovely.” Joy seated herself at the table in the center of the large room that made up most of the house. Jansen joined her, as did Flora, Jasper, and Copper.
A cheerful lady with rosy cheeks and wild hair stuffed under a white ruffled cap hurried to serve them.
She kept their glasses and their platters full.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the rain held off, giving Joy the hope that perhaps it would blow through without storming after all.
She truly wanted to get to Wolfebourne Lodge sooner rather than later, and a storm would slow them.
Her sister Grace would understand her dilemma about setting a wedding date.
She had always been the independent sort who everyone thought would fight against marrying.
But once Grace met Wolfe, she hadn’t hesitated to love him and embraced a short courtship.
Grace was so brave. Joy wished she possessed such courage.
“We best get going, sir,” Copper told Jansen after a second glance out the window. “It’s holding off for now. Mayhap we can make Wolfebourne afore the skies open up and pour.”
Jansen dropped a generous number of coins onto the table and nodded his thanks before they all hurried out and climbed into the carriages.
They’d not traveled far at all when the angry gray skies split open wide. The storm broke, lashing the carriages with sheets of rain driven by high winds that made the vehicles rattle and sway. Lightning lit up the woods, and deafening thunder shook them.
Joy dove into Jansen’s arms, cowering against him with her hands over her ears.
She had never liked storms. Especially ones so fierce.
But Jansen surrounded her with a solid, safe strength, enabling her to swallow hard and fight to slow her pounding heart.
The blackness of the tempest blotted out what was left of the late afternoon sun, only enabling them to see whenever the lightning flashed.
The carriage slowed to a crawl. Joy could only imagine the poor, terrified horses laboring to pull the conveyance through the mud that was surely axle deep by now.
Thunder boomed like cannon fire, and one of the horses screamed.
“Bloody hell!” Jansen clutched her even tighter. He curled himself around her and tucked his cheek against hers. Something about the bristly scrape of his jaw against hers helped her remain calm. Jansen was real, and he would keep her safe.
Then the coach stopped, and Copper yanked open the door. “Another way station up ahead,” he shouted through the din of the raging fury. “Small, but it’ll be shelter. Can’t make it no farther, sir. Just can’t do it.”
Jansen squinted against another blast of lightning and thunder, then nodded.
“Must we walk to the inn?” Joy shouted to the driver.
“’Fraid so, my lady. I’ll be unhitching the team and walking them. Too much rain, mud, and fear for them. Poor beasts just can’t pull through it.”
“Would you rather stay here and try to ride it out?” Jansen asked her, his eyes dark and wild with something she didn’t quite understand until she realized it had to be the same terror that was in hers.
“No. I want shelter. Good shelter,” she shouted. “I can make it.” And she would make it—even if she had to crawl. With Copper and Jansen’s help, she climbed down from the carriage and sank up to her knees. The road had become a river of mud.
Without asking, Jansen picked her up.
“You cannot make it carrying me,” she shouted, thumping her fist against his chest. “Put me down. I can make it.”
Jaw hard and expression grim, he shook his head and kept plowing through the deluge.
She shouldn’t fight him. It would only make his journey even more difficult. Instead, she tucked tighter against him and held on, praying he wouldn’t injure himself in the slow, laborious journey to the small way station.
A dim light up ahead, barely flickering in the deafening rain and darkness, gave her hope. It had to be their safe haven.
When they reached the door, he eased her down onto her feet and smiled. “We made it, my angel,” he said, breathing hard from his labors.
“You made it, my knight in drenched armor.” She hugged him closer, trying to steady him as much as she could. “Come. Let’s get inside and wait for everyone else.”
They sloughed off as much mud as they could, then went inside, blinking in relief at the warm, dry cheeriness of a hearth fire and candles.
“Bless my soul, come close to the fire,” said an older gentleman with wild white hair. “Not a fit night out for a man and his wife. Daren’t be worrying about the mud. My missus will have the lad sweep it out in the mornin’ once it be dry. I be Mr. Mosely.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mosely,” Jansen said. “Our driver had to unhook the team and walk them here. They should be along shortly.”
Joy noticed that Jansen didn’t correct the man about their status as husband and wife, but she didn’t say a word. Something about his demeanor advised her not to. “My maid and the driver of our second coach should be along soon as well. Have you room for us all?”
“Boy!” the old man shouted at a lad sitting in the corner. “Outside with you. Find that man and help him get his team to the shelter, and then help find the other one, too. Make haste now. These good people have had a hard journey.”