Chapter 2 #3
A collective groan rose up from the occupants of the coach.
Seconds later, a mad scramble for the door ensued.
Lucy tumbled from the confines of the disabled coach, staggered a few steps before standing without recourse on the traffic-clogged street.
At least she could breathe fresh air, and she took a few big gulps.
She shivered in the winter’s chill and pulled her navy traveling cloak more tightly about her with gazing at the growing pile of luggage being dumped unceremoniously onto the street around the coach.
What to do now? She had no more funds to hire a private coach, let alone pay for respectable places to stop during the journey.
This is not how I’d hoped the holiday would start.
As she gazed forlornly at the luggage, a man burst upon the scene, and in tones both regal and familiar, he asked, “What seems to be the trouble here, my good man? I’d like to resume my own journey more quickly than not.”
Lucy’s heart hammered in her chest as if it wished to flee. She certainly did, for standing there chatting with the driver was the one man she never hoped to see again—Colin Rowley.
Dear Lord. She couldn’t help gawking at him while he talked.
Of course he was more handsome than he’d been when she’d known him.
Lines crinkled at the corners of his mouth and eyes, and that gaze was as blue as summer lakes back home, but when he briefly looked her way, she caught a glimpse of sadness in those depths.
Traces of silver glinted in the brown hair at his temples.
He turned his full attention to the driver. “Shall I assist in fixing the axel or the wheel then?”
“Don’t bother, mate,” said the other man. “Won’t be worth the road for some time, and there’s not supplies here to fix this one. It’s too far gone.” The driver gestured to the passengers who were clustered together in pockets. “They’ll need to find their own ways, I’m afraid.”
Lucy looked away, heartsick. How would she reach Lancaster Hall now, and with her already turned the keys to her house over to the land agent, where would she stay? Having no answers, she moved stiffly to the pile of luggage and proceeded to tug out her two bags.
“Allow me to help.” His voice rumbled close by and he extended a hand to scoop up the heavier of her pieces. When he straightened, his gaze connected with hers. “It’s… Lucy Ashbrook, correct? I haven’t seen you in an age.”
Merciful heavens, he remembered her, and by her married name. A silly little flutter erupted in her lower belly. “Yes, it is me, Colin.” She took many liberties saying his name, but he could be no one else to her.
A flicker of something passed into his blue eyes, gone before she could analyze it. “You look well.”
“Thank you. As do you.” It was the height of odd to stand here conversing with this man whom she hadn’t seen since that long-ago Christmas.
“Are you spending the holiday in Town?” They were words she would have said to any old acquaintance, made more poignant because it was him.
So many things sat on the tip of her tongue, so many questions that needed asked, perhaps an apology proffered, but she uttered none of them.
It wasn’t her place, and she didn’t wish to rip the bandage from old wounds.
“No.” He shifted the handle of her bag to his other hand and reached for the one she held. “I’m bound for the Hall to see Father.”
Shock lanced through her chest and she took an involuntary step back.
“That will be nice for you both. Your father has forever wished you’d come home.
He says as much every year.” Panic played frantic fingers up and down her spine.
He would be in the same place as she, providing she found a way to arrive.
Could she survive such a thing, constantly faced with the specter of her past?
Colin snorted. “I’m not looking forward to it. What about you?” His eyes bored into hers with an exceptional interest that sent frissons of anticipation over her skin. “What are you and Jacob doing this holiday season?”
Her heart squeezed, and heat infused her cheeks.
“Jacob has been dead these past five years.” A trace of shock sprang into his eyes.
Dear Lord, he hadn’t known, but she forged onward.
“I’m…” She forced a swallow into her suddenly tight throat.
“I’m going home, except I have no transportation any longer.
” Lucy cast a glance at the disabled coach that still rested in the road like a great, broken beetle.
“I see.” When she gave him her full attention once more, his gaze took on a wicked gleam. “Travel with me, since I go that way, and we are acquainted.”
It was folly to accept. “I’m afraid I cannot.” Being alone with him for such a long journey was the height of scandal and temptation.
A tiny grin curved his still-sensuous lips and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
“No worries, Mrs. Ashbrook.” Slight relief trickled over her when he used her title.
It was less personal. “I have my daughter with me. We will stay at the finest posting inns, and I shall pay for anything you need. And you are a widow besides, so there’s no danger to your reputation. ”
So close but yet so far. Lucy shook her head. “I shouldn’t.” Depending on him for anything was a dangerous proposition. The last time they’d been together, she’d hurt him terribly, as he’d done her. There was nothing between them now except tainted memories.
“Where else would you go?” He glanced about. “You cannot stay alone. That is a miserable way to pass a holiday.”
But if I travel with you, I’ll be inundated by feelings.
At her continued hesitation, he lifted a brown eyebrow. “Let me do this, Lucy.” A tremble fell down her spine at hearing her name upon his lips. “For old times’ sake. It is simply me rendering assistance to an old… friend. Nothing more.”
What other recourse did she have? The journey would pass tolerably well with his daughter in tow, give her something to concentrate on. And it was only four days. Surely, she could grin and bear it for that long. Finally, she nodded. “Very well, and many thanks.”
“Excellent.” He led the way to a sleek black traveling coach that sat several paces back in traffic, a familiar golden crest of the Lancaster family painted upon one door.
Lucy trotted behind him, her stomach in knots and her chest tight.
Let me be strong enough to survive the trip.