Chapter 13 #2
“I understand that part of the dilemma, and I applaud you caring enough about them that you’d have them seek shelter.
” She glanced at him and shivered. The cold seeped through the blanket and her cloak.
Then her stomach cramped. What if he died due to exposure?
How could she live with herself, or never hear his voice again, and all because of some damned wager he wished to win, and the snit she currently had against him due to the same?
She stifled the sob rising in her throat.
It was petty and she was above such things, but love often was illogical. That made her suck in a tiny breath.
Was she once more in love with Colin? No.
No, no, no. “You’ve put us both into danger for the sake of your ego.
” A half-sob half-cry escaped despite her best attempts to stop it.
Again, too many emotions besieged her, and she didn’t know how to stem the tide.
“What will become of my children if I perish? My parents are getting older, and Lydia doesn’t have the means or temperament to take them in.
To say nothing of Fegley, for he bounces around the world too much…
” Dear God, I cannot take the strain that always attaches to Colin’s presence.
“Nothing will happen to you.” His eyes had taken on a wicked gleam she didn’t wish to contemplate. “Not while I’m here, of that I can promise.”
A flutter moved through her belly at those noble words, but she doubted he meant them. Still, it was a nice gesture, and she wished she could lean upon his strength, both physically and mentally. She missed that aspect of being with a man so much.
“I have your best interests at heart.” Colin gained his feet and when he moved to sit beside her, Lucy sprang into a standing position, battling to remain upright in the tilting coach.
“No. I cannot wait here for death.” I cannot put myself in a position to let him hurt me further.
“If you want to remain for the sake of the wager you’d risk everything for, God bless you and I wish you well.
” With the carriage blanket in one hand and the strings of her reticule about the wrist of the other, she unlatched the door, waited until it swung open and then she hopped down into the deep snow drift that came a few inches past her knees, for she was shorter than Colin.
“I must do something to save myself. I have to see my children. I will not pass another Christmas in misery.”
“Lucy!” Was that panic in the one-word cry? Surely not.
She ignored his call. Instead, she wrapped the carriage blanket about her upper body and slogged through the slow, moving away from the coach that tilted drunkenly to one side.
After a handful of steps, it was obvious that she’d made a huge error in judgment, for her foolish, pretty slippers of gold satin with kid soles were not made to hike through snow or the damp, even the handful of inches on the ground, for she tried to skirt around the deeper drifts.
Neither was her thin skirting adequate protection from the frigid wind that insisted on blowing her over.
A great shiver wracked her body, but she ignored the painful discomfort of the snow and cold that stung her limbs.
The only way to reach a goal was to continue, so that’s what she did, regardless of the big snowflakes that stuck to her hair and eyelashes, or the pressing chill.
I cannot wait for a rescue that will not come. I have to survive, just like I always have—without Colin.
She didn’t know how long she’d trudged through the snow, but her feet felt like blocks of ice, the wind stung her face and froze the tears to her cheeks, and her fingers could no longer move even if she wished to let go of the blanket.
“Lucy Hudson, I demand that you stop this instant!” Colin’s shout echoed eerily in the frosty air. The snow-laden branches of both deciduous and fir trees muffled any sound save the hiss of snowflakes landing upon countless others.
But his use of her maiden name brought her to a halt. She yelled over her shoulder, “I haven’t been that girl for many years.”
“And well I know it.” His boots made a crunching sound as he came closer. “That has been the trouble during this whole trip, I think. I’ve been struggling under the notion that you were the same girl I knew back then, when you are clearly a completely different woman, though we share memories.”
Lucy continued her path. She didn’t want to help him through a muddle of thoughts. Not now, not when her own were fragile and still sparkling with a silly hope. “Some things are best left in the past.”
“I don’t accept that.” Two seconds after his words faded, something cold and wet slammed into her back, hitting right between her shoulder blades. “Memories are a good foundation. I refuse to consign you to them.”
The man had thrown a snowball at her! With a huff of annoyance, Lucy swung around to look at him through the falling white flakes. “What the devil are you on about, Colin? This is hardly the venue for conversation.”
“Oh, indeed, I agree. However, this conversation has been brewing between us this whole week. Perhaps longer, and I won’t delay it further.”
Her breath puffed around her, but he was already scooping up another handful of snow.
When he lobbed it in her direction, she darted out of the way.
“You insufferable man.” They were not children any longer; his actions were outside of enough.
Willing her frozen fingers to work, Lucy bent down and quickly formed a snowball of her own, patting it into shape, the snow hopelessly wetting the thin kid of her gloves. “I have nothing else to say to you.”
Then she hurled the snowball. It hit his left shoulder but did no damage.
“Is that really true, though?” Again, he threw a snowball. Lucy wasn’t quick enough. The icy cold missile smacked her in the chest. Tiny shards escaped down her bodice. “I saw the questions in your eyes, the need, and quite frankly, I’m of the hope that what you want mirrors my own wishes.”
“Temporary insanity, nothing more.” Flutters filled her belly, but she ignored the response.
“What you want is reaching the Hall to win your father’s wager.
It’s always been about that.” She formed another snowball and threw it.
“Ha!” When it knocked his top hat from his head, she grinned.
Then she sobered. “When the coach broke a wheel, you panicked because it’s already dusk, and you’ll not make it home. ”
“No.” He shook his head, choosing the leave his hat in the snow in favor of approaching her. His lake blue eyes were a vivid contrast against the white snow. “I panicked because you bolted out here like a ninny, and…”
“And?” She lifted an eyebrow while she formed another snowball.
“And I’m not strong enough to lose you again.”