Chapter Three
The snow continued apace, slowing the progress of the carriage containing the two puzzled occupants, and Allegra could barely make out Oliver’s face now that the murky late afternoon light had all but disappeared.
But he was there, his presence an odd sort of comfort, and she felt better-disposed toward him than she’d done in quite some time.
Why she’d brought up that damn snuffbox, she had no idea, since the memories that went with it were still much too fresh in her mind.
His lips on hers, the heat that had suffused her limbs, the strange weakness and lack of breath…
all things easily dismissed afterward as the result of her first real kiss.
But although the incident had been buried away in the recesses of her mind, it returned to haunt her far too often. His embrace had opened a door, introduced her to emotions she could not yet fully grasp, and teased with the promise of more and greater experiences along the same lines.
But her antipathy to what she regarded as his stodgy and unexciting personality overwhelmed any interest in pursuing his attentions.
She’d turned to that absurd Sir Lloyd Fielding, with his dark shining eyes and his dramatic sweep of black hair.
The fact that his kisses had not elicited a single bit of heat mattered little.
The fact that he was currently engaged in liaisons with several other women at the same time, though, did.
Since that time, there had been the usual parade of suitors, most of whom had failed to impress her parents.
Lord and Lady Carruthers might not have been at the very top of the Ton, but they believed their daughter deserved a husband who could take care of her in the appropriate style, and also bring some prestige along with him.
Thankfully, none had come up to scratch, and Allegra was not in the least discomposed at the prospect of becoming one of the dreaded “spinsters” who apparently roosted upon shelves everywhere.
Such thoughts served to divert her for a little while, but another lurch had her reaching for the strap and glancing across the short distance to Oliver.
“A rough road,” she commented.
His teeth caught what meagre light there was as he smiled. “Indeed, but I believe that may indicate we’re approaching our destination.”
“Craddock Inn? You’ve been there before?”
“No, and I’m not sure exactly where it is. But I do know that there’s a distinct difference between the well-maintained roads of London and those of the smaller villages on the outskirts.”
She thought about that. “Hmm. A good point.”
Peering out the windows was futile, since there was little to see but snow and darkness. No lights penetrated the gloom, lending credence to Oliver’s comment. They were indeed outside the city now, forging onward toward Heaven knew what.
“Should we be concerned?” It was a natural question that popped out of her mouth without her really thinking about it.
“Well, we could be, I suppose. But what would it gain us? We can’t get out, the carriage is still moving, and we’re dry, out of the snow, and as warm as could be expected.”
He crossed his legs, pulling his cloak over them, much as she had done.
“Plus,” he continued, “I doubt the team will be able to pull this vehicle for hours in this weather. So it can’t be too long before we either reach our destination or stop somewhere for a change of horses. Either way, we will learn more at that time.”
“You’re very calm and logical about all this,” she commented dryly.
“And having the vapours will help?”
“No, but I could be forgiven for toying with the idea of having them.” She paused. “Although, to be quite honest, I’m not sure what they entail.”
“Good. I suggest you keep it that way.” His chuckle made her lips twitch.
“There speaks a man who has been treated to such things more than once, I’ll wager.”
“An impertinent question, Miss Carruthers, so I will merely nod my answer without giving away any details, horrific as they are.”
The humour in his voice warmed her more than her cloak, and although their situation was unusual in the extreme, she found herself enjoying the moment.
It was a delight to hold a conversation with someone who treated her like an adult, rose to her bait, and replied with commonsense and a slight touch of amusement.
Her next conversational gambit was abruptly cut off as the carriage slowed.
“What…” She grasped the strap again.
“It would seem we have arrived,” he responded, bracing himself and frowning at the window. “And yet I can see nothing…wait…”
“What?” she repeated herself, twisting around to follow his gaze. “What do you see?”
“A light, I think? Yes…yes, definitely a light.”
Within moments, Allegra could see it too, but to call it a light was being generous. “I’d say that’s more like a single candle,” she observed, worried now that they were finally coming to a halt. “Are we to be turned out into the snow?”
“I doubt it.” He rubbed at the window where their breaths had fogged it. “It’s a lamp, I would guess. High off the ground.”
“Well, that’s a comfort,” she snapped. “One lamp in the middle of nowhere, amidst a raging snowstorm, and we’re to get out of the carriage?”
He sighed. “You have a tendency to be over dramatic, Miss Carruthers. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Yes,” she muttered. “You did, the last time we spoke. Which is probably why we haven’t spoken since.”
“Ah.”
The vehicle stopped, thus putting an end to any further discussion about drama or previous conversations. Allegra listened to the surrounding sounds; the snow hissing against the doors and windows, the horses stamping their hooves and snorting, and the wind picking up with a bit of a howl.
“There.” Oliver leaned close and pointed. “Beneath the lamp. There’s an entrance.”
Squinting, she barely made it out. “Lovely. I would assume it’s attached to a building of some kind. Which is all well and good, but we’re in a carriage with no way out…”
No sooner had the words left her lips than the door nearest to them swung open and a blast of cold air took her breath away.
In spite of all his self-assured banter, Oliver was no happier with the situation than Allegra. But revealing that fact was pointless and might disturb her even more.
He’d turned their predicament over and over in his mind, but had not been able to come up with any kind of answers. Kidnapping seemed ridiculous, especially since Allegra had been added to the journey. Who on earth would want to seize them, and why?
It just didn’t make any sense at all. Neither did doing away with either of them. His estate was entailed to a cousin who was well off in his own right, and Allegra’s family was comfortable, but far from the wealth possessed by other, more likely, candidates for such a deed.
His curiosity fully aroused, he gathered the folds of his cloak, pulled his hat firmly onto his head, and stepped out.
“Damn.” The drifts came perilously high up on his boots.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Just deep snow here.” He took a step forward. “Seems like just that spot. Here it’s lighter.” He tested his footing, then turned back to the carriage. “Give me your hand.”
She didn’t hesitate, and he was able to half-carry, half-swing her over the pile of snow.
“Thank you.” She too pulled her cloak around her and held onto her bonnet and bag as the wind frisked and snow flew everywhere.
“The door. The lamp is over the door,” he said, coming close and speaking loudly over the howling wind. “Let’s head that way.”
“What about the carriage?” She glanced behind them, then gasped. “Oliver.” She grabbed his arm. “Look.”
He turned. “What?”
She took a breath. “There’s no driver…”
“Don’t be absurd…”
His voice tapered off as he stared up at the box, trying to see through the flakes scurrying everywhere. It made no sense at all, but she was right. The box was empty.
“He’s probably off tending to his business,” Oliver said, hoping she’d catch his drift, since he did not want to clarify. Pointing out that a man might well be relieving himself behind some snowbank wasn’t acceptable conversation.
“Oh really?” She moved closer to him. “Then where are his footprints?”
“Here…no, wait, that’s us…”
Blinking, Oliver faced the fact that she was right. He could only see their footsteps in the pristine snow. The horses had left imprints, as had the wheels of the carriage, but that was all he could see.
This was just…peculiar. But his feet were getting very cold, and hers must be freezing.
“Perhaps he dismounted on the other side, and we can’t see him.” He turned to her. “Look, it’s damned cold out here and not likely to get any better. Let’s go inside and warm up a bit, then with luck we’ll find out what’s going on.”
“All right.” Her teeth chattered a bit. “I won’t argue with that plan.”
“Thank God,” he muttered, and took her arm, noticing she had her bag with her. “Hold on to me, tightly. I’ll wager this path could be slippery if we’re not careful.”
“It’s so c-c-c-old,” she muttered, trying to duck down and avoid the lash of the snow. Her bonnet was all but useless, he knew, so he did his best to snug her into her cloak and then use his over both of them.
The path seemed miles long, but the nearer they got to the door, the brighter the lamp appeared. It encouraged him, urged him forward, and he noted the snow was untouched here. Nobody had entered or left through that door since the storm began.
Eventually, after a few minutes of stumbling through the icy landscape, they found themselves able to read the sign.
“Well, it’s the right place.” He stared at the carved oval announcing that this was the Craddock Inn. The wood was weathered, the paint old and slightly peeling.
“Should we ring?”
“If there was a bell, I’d say yes, but I don’t see one, and my boots are getting soaked. So I think we should just go right in.”
“I agree.” She paused. “You first.”
He wanted to grin, but caution won the day. With icy hands, he reached for the door handle and pushed it down, then in, revealing a long passage barely lit by a single candle in a wrought iron sconce.
“Hallo?” He called out, waiting to see if there was a response. “Anyone there? Hallo?”
“Oh, the devil take it…” Allegra released his arm and hurried inside. “Your boots may be getting soaked, but my feet are already blocks of ice. I’m not lingering for an invitation.”
“Well then.” He followed her and let the door bang shut against the storm.
“Thank Heavens.” She shook off her cloak and bonnet, stamping her feet to clear away the snow. He did the same, and within a few moments, they were able to take stock of where they were.
“Hmm.”
The two of them stood side by side, staring into a corridor.
“It looks as if there is a light at the end,” he said.
“Yes, indeed it does,” she answered.
Neither moved.
“We probably should head that way.”
“No going back out into the storm for me.”
“You first, then.” She shifted closer.
“Why do I always have to go first?”
“Because you’re the gentleman, and it’s the right thing to do.”
“Oh, now I’m a gentleman instead of an arrogant prig?”
“You’re as nervous as I am,” she exclaimed.
“I am not,” he shot back. “I’m trying to exercise caution.”
“Well, while you’re doing that, my feet are rapidly freezing to the floor. If that light is a fire, I suggest we immediately go and find it, and warm life back into our limbs.”
He sighed. “You can be most annoying, you know.”
“You’ve said that before, too.”
“Well, damn it.” There were no other options so, even though he was somewhat concerned about this entire confusing situation, he took the first step and led the two of them into the Craddock Inn.