Chapter One #2
Lord Kirkston. She had never heard of a Lord Kirkston, but since he was a Scot, she might not, since not all members of the Scottish peerage sat in the House of Lords.
If she remembered correctly, only a select few were elected to represent Scotland in Parliament.
Those few frequented London far more than those not politically inclined to do so.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord. A great pleasure indeed, since you saved my sister and me. As I said, we shall be forever grateful.”
He seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, looking all around as if wishing he were somewhere else. “Your man has the horses calmed now. I must lend my assistance to my brother and your driver to recover the carriage.”
She dismissed him with another curtsy that wasn’t necessary because he had already walked away. What a rude, unfriendly sort. Or maybe not rude and unfriendly, but certainly unnecessarily gruff.
Serendipity hurried over and hugged her, hanging on to her as if fearing she might disappear. “Thank heavens, you are safe. The carriage was rocking as he pulled you out. I was so afraid you would be swept away.”
“I told you we would be fine.” But Merry didn’t crow too loudly. There was still the matter of finding shelter and a means of getting there. “I hope the carriage is not a lost cause. Will we have to ride the horses? Do we know if they have ever been ridden?”
“Since they are draft horses, it is doubtful they have ever encountered a rider, as we never use postilions. We shall have to ask Jasper, since we cannot very well walk.”
Merry clapped her gloved hands and stamped her feet in an effort to beat away the numbness of the cold. “At least walking would warm us.”
“Not so fond of winter now, are we?”
“Do not be shrewish.” Merry scrubbed her arms, then gathered her fur-lined cloak closer around her. “What do you know of our hero, Lord Kirkston?”
Serendipity frowned, her eyes narrowing as she eyed the men slogging through the water around the carriage. “Other than the fact that he is an enormous brute of a man of Scottish ancestry? Nothing.”
“He said the man with him is his brother.”
“I have yet to speak with that one.”
“He is not nearly as tall and muscular as Lord Kirkston,” Merry observed. “I wonder if they have different mothers.”
“It does not matter. We should be praying they are able to pull the carriage free rather than sizing them up as if we are about to purchase them.”
A loud pop, like the firing of a gun, went off on the far side of the carriage, and it twisted to one side, submerging itself even deeper in the icy water that had yet to freeze solid.
“Unhook them!” Lord Kirkston shouted to Jasper. “’Tis a lost cause now.”
“Oh dear.” Merry huddled closer to Serendipity. “Didn’t Grace mention that the draft horses were quite docile in nature? Surely they will allow us to ride them.”
“Bareback?” Serendipity fixed her with a horrified look.
“Would you rather walk?” Merry began pacing along the embankment more to stay warm than because of impatience.
Serendipity huffed and sank deeper into her hooded cloak.
As the men finished unhooking the team of four, the carriage slowly slid farther into the swollen river, then gracefully floated off into the faster waters until it sank.
“Our things,” Serendipity said ever so wistfully.
“All of us are safe,” Merry said. “People and horses alike. That is all that matters.”
“Yes.” Serendipity squared her shoulders and nodded. “That is all that matters.”
Eyes downcast, twisting his cap between his hands, Jasper approached, plodding through the ever-deepening snow. “Lady Serendipity.” He halted and slowly shook his head. “May you and God forgive me for nigh on killing you and Lady Merry.”
Merry stepped forward, since Serendipity currently seemed unable to cope with their circumstances. Jasper had always been a loyal servant, serving them for years. “It was an accident that could not be helped. We are safe. The horses are safe. You are safe. That is all that matters.”
He shook his head harder. “That patch of ice caught the wheels, and away it took us, dragging us into the ditch, and then the wet snow and mud pulled us into the river. Ain’t never seen nothing like it.”
Lord Kirkston joined them, still looking angry enough to bite through iron. “There is a coach inn to the south. My brother and I left there this morning. We should make haste to get there and dry out. A replacement conveyance can be obtained at the inn so ye might continue yer journey.”
The man with him stepped forward with a gallant smile and bowed. “I am the brother. Lord Malcolm Galloway at yer service, ladies.” He smirked at Lord Kirkston. “Never mind Duncan’s mood. His milk is always a bit soured.”
Merry offered the amiable brother a curtsy. “I am Lady Merry, and this is Lady Serendipity. We are two of the Duke of Broadmere’s seven sisters.”
Lord Kirkston’s eyes narrowed into an even more critical squint, and a disgruntled snort escaped him. “As I said, we must make haste. The later the day grows, the colder.” He shifted his focus to Merry as if determined to frighten her with his dark glower. “I assume the two of ye ride?”
She was more than up to the challenge. How dare he be so surly when none of this was anyone’s fault? “Well, of course we ride.” She turned to Jasper. “Will the team allow us to ride them?”
The servant stared at her in disbelief, his eyebrows arching so high they disappeared behind the fringe of tousled hair across his forehead.
“Aye, they will. They be Suffolk Punches. Gentle as lambs, they are, but…” He took a step closer and lowered his voice.
“But bareback, my lady? We lost all the blankets with the carriage, and since they were four in hand, they were not fitted with their saddles for postilions.”
“The ladies can ride our mounts,” Lord Kirkston said. “They shall have to ride astride, but that will be better than bareback. Malcolm and I will take two from the team.” He turned to Jasper. “Ye can ride one of the team as well as lead the remaining horse, aye?”
“Yes, my lord, but begging your pardon…” Jasper gave the marquess a dubious look.
“What?” Lord Kirkston glared at him, daring him to challenge the order as it had been given.
“You will cease barking at him.” Merry stepped between the men, well and truly finished with Lord Kirkston’s abruptness. “Jasper is loyal and true, and you will treat him with the respect he deserves, or I shall take issue with you, my lord. Am I quite clear?”
“Heaven forbid that ye should take issue with me, my lady,” Lord Kirkston growled, baring his teeth like an angry beast.
“Shall we take to the horses?” Serendipity tugged on Merry’s cloak. “Lord Kirkston was quite right about the day growing colder. Come along.”
“A fine idea.” Lord Malcolm took hold of his brother’s arm and forcibly turned him toward the team.
Merry seriously considered hitting Lord Kirkston in the back of the head with a snowball but decided against it.
Such an action would probably throw poor Serendipity into a fit of apoplexy.
Instead, she haughtily swept her way to the pair of saddled mounts at the edge of the roadway, larger than the horses she was accustomed to riding.
She jutted her chin higher and kept marching toward them.
She would not give Lord Kirkston the satisfaction of seeing her second-guess herself.
She would be fine. Her sister Grace had taught her to ride, and she enjoyed the sport immensely.
Today, she would simply enjoy the opportunity of riding a horse that was almost the size of Windsor Castle.
She chose the black stallion, determined to pick the larger of the two.
“Hello, horse, and how are we today? Shall we take a ride and find some shelter?”
The animal turned its head and eyed her, flicking an ear.
She gathered up her skirts and moved to step into the stirrup, only to have the beast sidle away from her. “Now, now. Let us be nice, my fine lad. I merely wish to get into the saddle.”
“If ye dinna allow her up there, Spartan, she will take issue with ye, and we dinna want that.”
Merry clenched her teeth and slowly turned. “I should have known this was your horse. He is as trying as you are.”
In a single, powerful stride, Lord Kingston closed the distance between them, lifted her by the waist, and plopped her into the saddle. “It appears your gratitude has reached its limit, my lady. I never knew forever to be so short.”
“You are such an arse!” Merry clamped her mouth shut.
She should not have said that. How could she allow Lord Kirkston to infuriate her so?
But she refused to apologize and admit defeat.
Instead, she gathered up the reins and signaled the stallion to get moving.
The horse flattened its ears and remained still.
“Oh my gracious, this beast is just like you!”
“She means that as a compliment, Spartan.” For the first time since their meeting, the haughty lord wasn’t scowling, but neither was he smiling. “I thought ye said ye could ride, my lady?”
“Spartan and I will come to an understanding, my lord.” She gave the horse a reassuring pat before waving the irritating man away. “On with you, now. I am sure I shall be fine.” Somehow, she would get this horse moving just to show Lord Kirkston that she could.
“Indeed.” Arching a dark brow, the marquess took a step back and folded his arms across his chest. “Proceed, my lady. Yer confidence is most commendable.”
Lord Malcolm escorted Serendipity to his horse, helped her mount, then moved away with a smile as she took control of the obedient beast.
“Merry? What is the problem?” Serendipity rode closer. “It’s snowing harder. Come along, now.”
“This bloody horse is as infuriating as its master!”
“Merry!”
“Do not Merry me in that tone, Seri. I am in no mood, and I could have said much worse.”
“Spartan,” Lord Kirkston said, “proficiscor.”
The horse came to life, answering to the flick of the reins and the pressure of her knees as if the two of them had ridden together many times before.
She reined in the beast and turned to glare at the gloating lord.
“You knew he wouldn’t move until he heard the Latin word for set out, yet didn’t think that worth mentioning? ”
“I am infuriating. Remember?”
“Indeed, you are.” Merry urged the horse onto the roadway, then waited for the others to join her. Warmed by her irritation, she shoved her hood back and lifted her face to the faster-falling snow.
Lord Kirkston rode toward her, managing the large chestnut draft horse with masterful ease. “Cover yer head, my lady. We have much ground to cover, and the iciness of the wind will surely cause ye to fall ill.”
“Do not trouble yourself, my lord,” she said. “I am quite hearty.” She wouldn’t raise her hood now if her life depended on it.
“Merry.” Serendipity flanked her on the other side. “I know you are stubborn, but see sense.”
“Do not side with him.” Merry spurred her mount to a faster gallop.
Lord Kirkston bellowed, “Spartan! Sto.”
The horse halted with such speed that Merry almost flew out of the saddle. Wishing she had something within reach to throw at the arrogant lord, she turned and shook her fist instead. “Are you trying to kill me?”
He didn’t comment, nor did his expression give away his thoughts as he brought his horse to a standstill beside hers, dismounted, then swung up into the saddle behind her.
“What do you think you are doing?” She jabbed her elbows into him, bouncing them off the wall of muscle at her back. “I demand you return to your horse and leave me alone.”
He yanked her hood up over her head, then wrapped an arm around her and pinned her back against his chest. “I am on my horse, my lady, and since ye appear to neither possess the will nor the good sense to heed sound advice for yer own wellbeing, I shall not leave ye alone until we arrive at the inn, where I intend to deposit yer less-than-gracious arse onto their hearth. I am, for the lack of a better word, yer keeper. Whether ye like it or not.” He took the reins and added, “Proficiscor!”
“I hate you!” Merry tried to elbow him again but couldn’t move her pinned arms. “This is most improper.”
“We are fully chaperoned, my lady. Yer sister is well within earshot.”
“So, you intend to abandon that horse from my team? I demand you return and fetch him.”
“Not necessary, my lady. My brother has already tethered that fine beastie to his mount and is leading him.”
“Why are you so bloody horrid?”
“Now, now, my lady. Such language.”
“It appears you bring out the worst in me.” Quite warm and toasty with her fur-lined cloak clamped around her by the massive Scot who put out the heat of a bonfire, she struggled to remain angry.
“Why are you so horrid? I assure you, we had no intention of interrupting your day the way we did. Are you missing an appointment or something?” It frustrated her to no end because everyone always got on well with her.
Papa had once told her she could charm a dog away from a joint of beef.
Weariness set in along with the warmth of being held.
She succumbed to a jaw-popping yawn and found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. “Well?”
“Sleep, if ye wish, my lady. I’ll not let ye fall.”
“I am not sleepy.” She squinted her eyes shut, then opened them wide as she yawned again.
Apparently, he wasn’t going to confess the reason behind his surliness.
They must be keeping him from something most important.
Perhaps he was heading home to a wife and was now delayed not only by his act of kindness but by the weather.
In spite of her best efforts to remain stiff and as primly upright as possible, she found herself melting back against him.
But it wasn’t her fault. He fit so nicely against her, and that spot on his chest just below his chin made the perfect place to rest her head.
“When we get to the inn, I shall write an apology to your wife and tell her of your bravery. Perhaps then she’ll not be angry with you when you finally get home. ”
“I have no wife.”
“Then I shall write a note to your intended, or whoever is waiting for you at home.” She yawned again, burrowing deeper into her hood as the snow swirled harder around them. The weather laughed at their efforts to travel through the storm.
“Sleep, my lady. For both our sakes, go to sleep.”
Fine. If he wished to be an unpleasant troll about the day that could have turned out so much worse, then so be it.