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Chapter five

My carriage arrived with little ceremony. My trunks had been packed to the brim. I’d hugged Lila’s neck and Cook’s, then my parents. Susan had not returned, stating the farewell was far too painful for her to endure another goodbye. We’d promised to write.

I did not reveal to her my change in plans to meet a stranger and possibly marry him. No need for gossip to snake around Bath’s parlors about the doomed Chilton debutante.

Father held back, swallowing and swiping at his eyes with a great handkerchief. Mother guided me down the steps to the carriage, “Best go quickly, daughter, before your father becomes a weeping fool.”

I clutched my straw bag as I was handed within—a luxury provided by my would-be fiancé.

The carriage was plush with comfort. Pillows rested in each corner, along with a box of hot coals for my feet and a thick, green plaid blanket.

My insides warmed at the thoughtfulness.

Whoever this gentleman was, he was kind.

Indeed, he’d ordered the best fit for a princess with a significant dowry.

Did he know of our financial state? I would think that my Uncle Harris would have informed him of this terrible fact before sending for me.

I tossed a final wave to Lila, my maid whose tears had been evident the whole morning. I was loathe to lose her ministrations, indeed. But she could not be pressed upon to leave Bath and her family, not for any cost.

I wondered at our differences—my having to do so, but my maid being poor enough and free enough to choose to stay.

The carriage lurched forward. I peered one last time through the window, only to see my parents' backs reenter the house.

They, too, would travel a few days hence to their new home at the Weatherington estate.

I grew tearful as we passed each building and lane. I was to Butterton. To affiance myself to a man I didn’t know, to be a wife and mother to his wards. If I so desired. If…

I’d many, many hours of travel before me, two days of continuous riding at the very least. If only a friend could have come with me. Or Mother and Father… I’d never been quite so alone. Not even a female companion could be afforded. I daresay my would-be suitor had not thought of it.

Was I so… expendable? I gave another glance around this spacious, comfortable carriage. Twas confusing. Ah, well. I would daydream as Mother had taught me to do. Come up with stories, no matter how silly. A fun way to while away the hours—though none to laugh with over the impossible scenarios.

The bleak sky remained dull for the rest of my journey that day.

Entirely uneventful, the carriage finally pulled into a coaching inn whose cheery warmth seemed sufficient enough.

One of the maids assisted me to my room and delivered my solitary supper of bread and lamb stew.

The good young woman stayed with me through the night so that I might not fear the male guests who drank below or the snores I might hear echoing down the hall.

I thanked her profusely as she pulled a trundle be from beneath mine.

“Tis no bother, miss.” She grinned with a full set of teeth. “I’m right tired if you don’t mind my saying.”

I stretched my sore muscles, donned my nightgown, ate my fill, and fell into a dreamless stupor, so exhausted was I.

The next day, the driver and I made off once again for another very long day of naught but passing through much countryside and my dreamy wonderings. A few hours into the journey, rain began to fall. First lightly, then, it fell at such a rate that the carriage was forced to stop entirely.

A knock rattled my door and opened. “Aye, miss, I’ve to go down the road to see where the closest inn may be.” Thunder rattled the air, and the rain blew in sheets. He held his hat tight against the wind. “Didn’t count on getting caught in this sludge. Mud’s near impassable.”

“Oh my. Of course, do as you see fit.”

He gave a curt nod. “I’ll return for ye directly and see ye safely settled as soon as may be.”

I’d be left alone. “Alright.” I supposed he had to do what he had to do. No way around it.

“You’ve naught to fear, miss. No souls dare be out in this weather, mind ye. But if it makes ye feel safe, there’s a pistol in the box.” He jerked his chin. “Just there.”

“I thank you, I’m sure I won’t need to touch it.”

“Daresay, you won’t. Right then, off I go!”

And there I sat. The driver marched away, and I was entirely alone in a strange place for the first time in my life.

Thunder rocked the carriage, and I shuddered, gathering my cloak more tightly about my shoulders.

A sliver of fear slipped up my spine, or was that a chill?

None had filled the coal box to warm my feet this day.

The air grew colder with each passing minute.

I shivered and drew the blanket about my legs, waiting, waiting, waiting. I waited ever so long. Thunder seemed like a never-ending giant throwing a tantrum above my head.

How long was I to be alone? Finally, I tossed the blanket aside and checked the box where the weapon was. I unlatched the lid and spied the small silver pistol. Heavens, but it seemed deadly. I snapped the box shut again. It was of little use as I didn’t know how to operate it.

Not that I feared being found by a—a smack hit the carriage, and I squealed. Followed by more smacks. Twas hail! Icy stones pummeled in a loud roar. The window cracked and crumbled away from the door. I burrowed to the other side and thought it better to stay in the center.

Was so dark, I wished for a light, even a small one. If only my driver returned with all haste and I could once again snuggle safely in bed. Surely, the journey would be better on the morrow.

As it were, he did not come. For hours, I sat. The hail had stopped long ago. The sun, what little there was by the end of the hail’s assault on the world, hardly lent light to the twilight. Had my driver become injured in the storm? Did he lie on the road waiting for help? Mayhap he waited for me?

My heart thumped as the possibility became real. He wouldn’t have simply abandoned me once he reached the inn. He promised he’d come back directly. But how could I traverse the dark, icy roads as night fast approached?

My stomach growled. I had not eaten since breakfast, and my flask of tea was empty. I wanted to cry like a child.

If I stayed, I was alone. If I trekked down the road, I’d still be alone.

I didn’t even have a lantern—wait—I opened the carriage door and gingerly stepped into sludge.

The hail had broken the lanterns hanging on either side of the carriage.

I’d no way to light them in any case. Even if the driver lay beside the road, I wouldn’t be able to spot him without light.

A howl sounded in the distance. I hied to my place and locked the door.

Within the hour, full darkness came upon the landscape.

I was truly stuck. I allowed one tear to slip down my cheek.

I forced myself to be as brave as the heroines in the novels I’ve read and in the stories I made up in my head.

I shivered and couldn’t stop. It was so very cold. I lay stretched out upon the seat, bundled as best as I could. I didn’t know it was possible to be so chilled! I lay so for hours as the night deepened and my hope dashed.

At first light, I’d walk the road. Surely someone would help me. I prayed to God for help. For help now—it needn’t wait.

Indeed, did ice flow through my veins? I swallowed with a dry throat. If only I had a full flask of tea, I might survive this predicament.

Sometime later, something prodded me. Pushed. I startled awake and screamed and gasped within a blast of freezing air.

“Hold steady, miss. I’m here to help you.” A deep, strong voice—so warm—met my ear. “Are you injured?”

“No.” My voice shook from the cold as my eyes adjusted to the shadowed face before me.

He lifted me outside, and I blinked. He blinked. We said each other’s names in unison, his the louder, mine weak with cold. “Miss Chilton!”

"Colonel Stewart." My lips trembled. Was I dreaming? But no. His tall form, his sandy hair, hatless, his eyes—concerned.

“I beg you to put me down.” To be discovered in such a state! I must look a fright.

He cocked a brow. “Are you sure?”

I wasn’t. I couldn’t feel my feet. My hands were numb with cold.

He slowly placed me upright, and I buckled. He lifted me in his arms once again and looked down at me, worry tinging his voice, “You are ill, I’m afraid.”

“I dearly hope not.” Illness could impede my potential engagement. I shuddered. The shock of seeing Colonel Stewart again set my thoughts stuttering. This couldn’t be happening…

“Mmm.” He glanced down the road ahead. We need to find an inn.” He set me back into the freezing coach, threw his gloves off, and proceeded to take mine off as well.

“What do you?”

He placed my hands between his and rubbed hard, chaffing heat back into my fingers, if only a little. Slivers of pain prickled. That’s when I noticed his torn jacket and a bruise on his jaw. I looked about for a horse— none.

“Any better?” He paused the rubbing and handed me my gloves.

“Some. I thank you.” I stretched my fingers before sliding the gloves back on. “Colonel Stewart? How came you to be here?”

He evaded my question with one of his own, his eyes as sharp as when we were first introduced. “Answer me first—where is your driver?”

“He left amid the storms yesterday to find an inn. The coach is stuck, as you see. He didn’t make it back. I fear he is harmed.” My mind had conjured all manner of possibilities. Surely he hadn’t died…

“Or perhaps he stopped for a drink and had too many.” He grimaced. “I shouldn’t think the worst of the man, but if I find him uninjured, Miss Chilton, there will be a price to pay.” He looked around me. “Have you no companion at all?”