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Minerva cast her gaze over the letter once more. It spoke of courage and living a full life. She exhaled slowly. It was something she had not done since her kidnapping, even though it was over fifteen years ago. The memories were too fresh, too painful. Too terrifying. Even now, when she thought of those men grabbing her and threatening to kill her if her father didn’t pay a ransom, her body grew cold and shaky. She had been held for three days in a dark, damp room, listening to their threats and expecting the worst.

She met her mother’s gaze and offered a shaky smile. “It will be fine, Mama. As Angel said, I have been trying to become braver. If Grandpapa thinks I can do this, then I must.”

Mama’s lips tightened. “I nearly lost you then. Now I am to send you away?” She shook her head. “Surely, there must be some other way?” She sent a look toward Mr. Barton, who merely shrugged.

“Min can do this,” Seth assured their mother. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

While Minerva appreciated her brother’s confidence in her, she was not certain that was true. Yes, she had been taking steps since their grandfather’s death to try to push herself, but they had been minor, minor steps. Travelling to Scotland was one giant leap.

“Perhaps I should come with you,” her mother suggested.

Shaking her head vigorously, Minerva folded the letter and tucked it into her sleeve for safekeeping. “You need rest, Mama.”Their grandfather’s death had taken a toll on their mother, who was the delicate sort. The last thing she needed was to spend days on the road. “My lady’s maid can accompany me—I am sure she shall enjoy seeing Scotland.”

Mama twined her hands tightly together. “And you shall have to take some strong men with you. Who knows what you might encounter?”

“Oh, take Mr. Young. He’s tall and handsome,” Angel suggested with a grin.

“Handsome does not matter,” their mother said tightly. “But he is strong.”

“See? I shall be fine.” Somehow Minerva kept a smile frozen on her shaky lips. A glance to her siblings told her that they did not believe her words any more than she did.

Chapter Two

Minerva stretched and waited for the inevitable heart pounding that would come with waking up in a strange room. She took a deep breath and held it. Sunlight slipped in through the tattered curtains, tripping across the small but neat room. Though she had stayed in finer inns, the bed had been comfortable and the sheets were clean. She blew out a breath. What had her grandfather been thinking? Sending her on a journey like this? He knew full well how much she loathed travelling. If anyone understood what she had gone through as a child, it was her grandpapa.

And yet…

She inhaled slowly and allowed herself a tiny smile. Perhaps Grandpapa had known what he was doing when he sent her on this journey to collect whatever it was that he wanted her to collect. In the midst of Scotland of all places! After almost a week of travelling, they were past Edinburgh, and it would not be long until she arrived at the cottage in which apparently her grandpapa had spent time in as a boy. What the significance of the place was, she did not know.

Rolling over, she reached for the letter in which she had been assigned her task. Drawing it open for what had to be the hundredth time on this journey, she cast her gaze over the familiar handwriting. He wanted her to find her courage, and she understood why. Since the incident as a child, she rarely left London and avoided carriages at all costs. To imagine that shewould even be sleeping in a traveler’s inn with only a lady’s maid for company was near astonishing.

If only her siblings could see her now. They would hardly be able to believe it. She knew her brothers regretted that neither of them could accompany her on her journey, but she and Mary had done well on their own with the company of the groomsman and driver.

She rather wished her grandpapa could have sent her on a slightly shorter journey, though. Travelling to Scotland had been no easy feat. The journey had been long and tiresome, and filled with strangers. She suppressed a shudder. She supposed meeting all these new people had been good for her too. None of them had fulfilled her worst imaginings—none of them were like the men who had kidnapped her. In fact, almost all of them had been courteous and friendly.

“You would be proud of me, Grandpapa,” she murmured to the letter.

He had been right, no matter how much she wished to avoid it, she needed to face her past and finally summon the courage to live a proper life. She kept her circle of friends small—limited to those whom she trusted the most. And, yes, her fears really did restrict her life. More and more frequently recently, she had been considering how to face up to said fears. As unwelcome as it had seemed, her grandfather’s task was pushing her toward facing them.

And just look at her now. Sleeping in a traveler’s inn, journeying miles in a carriage, and barely being terrified at all. Well, not all the time anyway. She could not claim to be fully cured, but she felt braver and stronger with each passing day. Perhaps when they returned to London, after the task was done, she would be able to do other new things.

Taking a last glance at the letter, she folded it and slipped it back into her reticule. The creak of floorboards sent her heartracing, and she stilled. Muscles stiff, Minerva forced in a shaky breath then released it slowly. Inns like this one were old and creaky. Not to mention full of people. Of course floorboards would be creaking. Unfortunately, the reminder did not slow her heart or ease her aching muscles.

A rapid knock on the door made her jump. She drew up the sheets around her and held her breath. What if it was someone coming to take her? What if someone knew of her lineage and thought her valuable? Just like when she had been a child. She searched the room with her gaze. There was a poker by the fire she could use as a weapon. But her limbs were too stiff, her body frozen. It was as though ice had run through her veins and stiffened every part of her. Lord, why could she not move?

“My lady?”

Minerva sagged in her bed. Of course it was Mary. Who else would it be? She eased out of bed on shaky legs and tiptoed over to the door to unlock it. Looking fresh faced and well rested, her lady’s maid smiled broadly.

“Did you sleep well, my lady?”

Minerva stepped back from the door and let the maid in. She nodded. “Yes, quite well. The bed was a little more comfortable than the previous night’s one.”

“Good.” Mary laid out a gown on the bed for Minerva. “With any luck, we shall be at this cottage before long, and then you can be back in your own bed, safe and sound.”

Mary had served Minerva since she was a young debutante and understood well enough her fears. Perhaps even more so than some of her family. Though all of them remembered her kidnapping, most of them were too young to understand how it had impacted her. Her oldest brother, Theo, was perhaps the one who understood most, but he had little time to worry about her with his duties as a marquis.

Though Mary did not quite understand why they were coming to Scotland, the maid had unquestioningly packed Minerva’s bag and accompanied her on this long journey with few questions. It was known that their grandfather’s will had been read and that all the siblings had suddenly found themselves very busy indeed. Minerva supposed the servants had their own conclusions as to what was happening. Unfortunately, because she was meant to say nothing of the tasks assigned to them, she had been forced to keep Mary in the dark.