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1812

“When I woke the next morning,” Anna’s mother said, “I thought that my life could not get any worse.”

“Did it?” Anna asked. She had no idea that her mother’s life had held such heartbreak. “I cannot believe how harsh Jonathan had been to you. Your mother was the one who was trying to spoil everything!”

“Yes, well, that was not the worst of it, not on either account. You see, the next morning, my mother gave me a message from Jonathan.”

Anna cringed. “He sent one through her? That cannot bode well.”

“And it did not, I am afraid. Jonathan wrote to let me know he was leaving.”

“Leaving?” Anna gasped. “No! What happened next? You did go after him, did not you?”

“But of course! And I found him. And when I did…”

* * *

1792

“Jonathan, please!” Louisa spurred her horse as fast as she could. Riding so hard sidesaddle was not easy, and she was holding on as tightly as she could to prevent herself from falling. “The least you can do is stop and talk to me. I cannot believe you would leave without saying goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” he ground out.

He stared straight ahead at the dusty trail he was racing down. He did not even bother to look over at her when she caught up to him.

Urging her horse even more, Louisa managed to bring her horse around to cut him off. They almost collided, but Jonathan halted in time. He had always been a talented rider.

His face, his eyes… Louisa felt as if she were wounded herself. He looked so devastated, so anguished and pained, so broken.

Something had happened, and she was terrified to find out what.

“Jonathan.” She reached toward him, but he jerked away so she could not touch him, and his horse retreated a few paces.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice so cold Louisa felt as if she had turned to ice. “You made it quite clear—”

“What did I make clear?” she asked, a hint of desperation creeping into her question. “I’ve only—”

He reached into the pouch on the side of his belt and tossed coins in her face. “I would accept anything from you save for charity.”

The coins fell, all except for one that she unintentionally caught in her hand. She held it up and shook her head. “Do not you see?” she whispered.

Immediately, his expression changed but only for a moment. For one second, she saw the fire burning brighter, hotter than ever before.

“Your mother,” he muttered.

“How could you!”

“It is not that I doubted you,” he started.

“But you did,” she burst out. “You thought I would give you money to start over a new life without me? Oh, you fool! Jonathan, I want that for you, a new life—yes!—but a new life with me!”

“I should have known.”

“How much did she give you?” Louisa’s hope began to rise. Perhaps they could, at this very moment, run away together. It would be reckless and daring and an adventure.

And she would have to abandon the only life she had known. She would never see her parents again and leave them with pain and a ruined family name. Everyone would speak about her and what she had done and the disgrace she brought upon her family.

But beyond the hope, a fury she never felt before welled up. “She is insufferable,” she fumed. “I will not bend to Mother’s will. Let us flee. Even if she did not give you enough, I can sell—”