Chapter Twelve
What Augusta noticed first upon awakening was that the wind had died down.
It had been disconcerting to hear the roof boards rattling precariously with each intense gust all throughout the night.
Then she realized Duncan was gone. Was it morning?
It was hard to tell, as the attic room was still dark.
The memory of their kiss came back to her.
What had possessed her to initiate such a passionate kiss?
It had been passionate on both sides. Had she simply been relieved that he was unharmed?
Or maybe she’d been glad he had returned and that she wouldn’t be alone?
Or perhaps she wanted and needed to be close to someone.
No, that was not fair. Close to him was more accurate. What a revelation.
Yawning, she carefully rolled over and, using her hands, braced herself to stand.
She glanced down at her stocking-clad, wrapped foot.
On the floor was Duncan’s arm sling, so she picked it up and looped it on her arm.
The sprained ankle still looked swollen.
Careful not to place much weight on it, she opened the door. “Duncan?”
He stepped into her sight. “I’m here. Wait, and I will assist you down the stairs.”
“Is it still storming?”
Duncan took her arm. “The worst of the high winds are over, I believe. Alas, it is still snowing, though not with last night’s ferocity. Take care with the bottom step. There.”
They stopped, and Augusta gasped at the transformation of the living space. A fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth. “Is that a tent?”
“Of a sort. I found a tarp. Here, come sit by the fire.” Duncan helped her into the chair, gently placing her sprained foot on the stool. “I came down about six. It’s nearly eight now.”
She had slept nearly eleven hours, at least. Good Lord.
“I thought I should approach our situation as I did in the army—assess the current conditions and take inventory. I took the bedding the Hansens left behind, put it outside to air, then dried it by the fire. Using the table, I fashioned a tent covering for at least the upper part of our bodies. As you see, I placed the pallet inside. It will trap the warm air, keeping us cozy.”
Augusta was very impressed. “How logical of you. Well done.”
“I also found a root cellar. No smoked hams, I’m afraid, but I did find two dusty jars of pickled carrots and one of beets. There are four chickens in the barn, so we have eggs to break our fast.”
“Chickens? Do they have food? Isn’t it too cold?” she asked, concerned, even though she knew nothing about farm animals. “What about Dawn? Is he well?”
“The barn structure is warm enough, and there is dried corn. Chickens are resilient. I saw one pick up a worm from the dirt floor. As for Dawn, I took some snow and wrapped his leg. There are dried oats in the barn. The mule is gone along with the Hansens.”
“Where could they have gone?”
“To family or friends. Considering the amount of snow, I doubt they will return, at least in the short-term. I was awake when the intruders came because I had heard people on the stairs earlier. Someone tried to enter the room.”
“Perhaps the Hansens wanted to let us know they were leaving.”
“Why sneak about? Why not knock on the door? More likely, they meant to rob us. When they opened the door only to find a trunk blocking it, they vanished. Perhaps they figured I had more money hidden away. Besides, I heard most of the conversation between the two men outside. One of them is Hansen’s cousin.
Hansen must have told them of the carriage accident, as they were discussing their spoils. ”
Augusta gasped. “Could they come back with reinforcements?”
Duncan shook his head. “No one is going anywhere for the next while.” He pointed to the front door.
“The drifts are so deep, I cannot even open the door or peer out the two windows. Luckily, that means the snow at the rear of the cabin is not as deep. I shoveled a narrow path to the privy and to the barn.”
They were trapped. Augusta wrung her hands in worry.
“Last winter, I read in a newspaper about a family in upstate New York who were trapped for three months during a particularly harsh storm. Even though they had food, they eventually ran out and were found in the spring. The family of six had died of starvation. Will that be our fate?”
Duncan pulled a wooden chair close to her, sat down, and took her hands. “No. Patrick McGloin won’t let us perish in such dire circumstances. He will move heaven and earth to save us.”
Augusta blinked rapidly, her nerves firing. Although Duncan’s warm, reassuring voice helped to calm her somewhat. “But what if something happened to him? Outside of the Hansens, no one knows we are here.” Augusta’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t Hansen tell his cousin we were here?”
“I assume Hansen didn’t want them to know about the ten guineas. That is a lot of money, especially to those with nothing at all. Regarding Patrick, allow me to reassure you. Patrick was my batman during two wars. Do you know what that is?”
“No. I do not know much about the army.”
“He was my servant, according to the British Army, but he was much more than that. He fought by my side in Spain in ’09 and later in Upper Canada from ’10 to ’13.
In Spain, he became our unit’s indispensable runner, carrying messages between the lines.
He saved my life twice, and I saved his at least once.
Patrick is a superb horseman, and I trust his survival instincts.
Beyond all that, he is my good friend. A finer man never lived.
He will not leave us to our fate, rest assured. ”
“I am glad to hear that,” Augusta sighed, relieved.
“Do you want to use the privy? I can escort you there.”
“Yes. I will need my case.”
Duncan stood. “I’ll fetch it. Afterward, I will move everything down here, and we will take inventory of the food.
I only glanced in the hamper, but I believe Mrs. Jemison packed enough to feed a small army.
The serving girl must have told her what Briggs, Patrick, and I had for the morning meal yesterday.
We made quite a dent in the menu.” Duncan frowned.
“You are thinking of poor Mr. Briggs,” Augusta offered.
“He did not deserve to die that way. Briggs was a highly competent coachman, but the accident was beyond his control. We were lucky we weren’t all killed.”
“If only I had not delayed the trip. If we had left early in the morning as planned, we would not have been caught in the storm.” Her voice trembled on the last few words. “His untimely death will haunt me.”
Duncan nodded. “For me, as well.” He took her hand. “You said earlier that no one was to blame. It was an accident. But you cannot help but feel guilt over the ‘if only’ scenarios. I feel it, most decidedly. For now, we must focus on getting through this. There is some good news.”
“Oh?”
“I also possess a modicum of survival skills. We will come through this.” Duncan turned on his heel and disappeared upstairs.
Augusta exhaled shakily. They must endure, not only for their own sakes, but also for her son. The prospect of never seeing Reese again tore her heart in two.
Augusta and Duncan stood before the table, staring at the food.
She was relieved to see more than she had expected.
“A daily supply of eggs, two jars of pickled carrots, one of beets, one and a half cottage loaves, half a venison pie, one wheel of cheese, two dozen cold sausages, a dozen jam tarts, ten cheese scones, a bag of tea, dinnerware and cutlery for four, and dried cherries.” Duncan handed her a small sack. “What is this?”
Augusta peered in. “Oats! We can make porridge.”
“Of course. At least we will not have to eat the oats from the barn,” Duncan teased.
Augusta smiled as she handed him the sack.
“There are a few slices of cold chicken and roast beef as well,” Duncan continued. “This looks like a pot of jam. Quite the hamper. With proper rationing, this food could last two weeks, perhaps more. But we will not be here that long.”
“But what if we are?”
“We’ll still have eggs, and there is plenty of snow to melt for water. We can do this. We will do this. If we get desperate enough, I can head toward the cottages five miles back from whence we came and procure food and perhaps some assistance.”
“Isn’t that the direction the would-be thieves traveled, and probably Hansen and his wife?”
“Oh, they were thieves, to be certain. They ransacked the carriage and the broken trunks. They mentioned my silver shaving kit and other items, including Brigg’s wool coat and leather gloves.”
Augusta’s hand flew to her mouth in shock. “How horrible!”
“I agree. Stealing from the dead is abhorrent. Blast it, I despised leaving Briggs there, but what could we have done?”
“Nothing.”
“We could have slung him over the saddle, and all of us could have walked here. But you had a sprained ankle, as well as Dawn, plus we had to bring other items—”
Augusta took Duncan’s hand. He looked miserable, riddled with guilt.
She knew exactly how he felt. “Do not torture yourself. As you say, Mr. McGloin will be here very soon, and we can see Mr. Briggs probably buried. However, I’ve been wondering…
Why would the thieves come here if Mr. Hansen did not tell them we were here? ”
“They saw the crest on the door and came looking for ‘the toff with his iron box full of money.’ So I suppose, looking for assistance among those cottages may not be wise. We will cross that particular bridge when we come to it. Meanwhile, we have enough food and firewood. If we need more fuel for the fire, I found an axe. I can either chop the few pieces of furniture, or there are plenty of trees surrounding the property.” He lifted her chin with two fingers and met her worried gaze.
His poor face was not easy to look at in the light of day, in what little natural light they had.
But Augusta did not flinch. She stared into his sky-blue eyes and saw kindness, confidence, and affection. “Say it: We will get through this.”
“We will get through this,” she replied softly.
He released her chin and turned toward the food. “Well done. What should we eat first?”
“The bread, tarts, and scones will grow stale. The meat will spoil next,” Augusta replied.
“Is the root cellar cool in there?” When Duncan nodded, she said, “I suggest we put most of the food back in the hamper and store it there. That will delay spoilage. Today? We should fry the eggs with some sausages, have a cheese scone each, and a few dried cherries. And tea, of course.”
“A wise suggestion. You are in luck, as my soldier skills extend to frying eggs over a fire. Thankfully, the Hansens left a skillet and a pot.” He turned suddenly, winced, and groaned with pain.
“What is it?”
“Help me off with this waistcoat.” She did, and he groaned again. “Lift my shirt over my head. Carefully.”
Augusta gasped. Not only was Duncan well built, but his left side was covered in red, angry-looking bruises.
She gently touched him, and he winced. Her gaze moved up his muscular arm to his injured shoulder.
It was as bruised and swollen as the rest of him.
She trailed the tips of her fingers along his ribcage, not just to check for injuries, but because she quite enjoyed touching him.
Muscle rippled under her fingers. “Impressive.” Then she gasped, as she could not believe she had spoken that aloud.
“Besides brooding for the past five years, I worked on the estate, trying to keep busy. Actual manual labor.”
“The effort shows. Are you certain you do not have broken ribs? You absorbed most of the impact when we were tossed against the carriage.”
“I am sure. The pain would be much more intense.”
“You have done enough for today. I will cook the eggs; I can manage. I will add willow bark powder to both our cups of tea, and we will sit by the fire to rest. I will brook no argument,” she said firmly.
“As you say, Duchess. First, I will put the rest of the food in the root cellar.”
“Then you must get your arm back in the sling and sit by the fire.”
“Right away.”
Augusta placed a hand on her hip. “I do like a man who obeys simple commands.”
“I was a soldier, after all.”
Augusta laughed and gathered the food for their morning meal.
As she worked, she made a vow to herself.
She would take each day as it came and not dwell on the worst or what might happen.
As long as she was with Duncan, she felt safe and protected.
It hit her that she had never felt that way with Southen.
Not ever. And so, she made another vow: to stop thinking of Southen, especially when comparing him to her new husband.
It was clear Southen would always fall short.
He belonged to her past and had to stay there.
This was a new chapter in her life, and Augusta would embrace everything that entailed.