The Reluctant Bride
Donna Hatch
Copyright 2011 Donna Hatch
Free Edition
ISBN 9781466039506
England 1815
Abby shifted, bumping first her head and then her knee, and reached two important conclusions. First, the storage compartment of a mail coach was no way to travel. And second, she was a very great fool.
What had she been thinking stowing away? Now she was friendless, cold, and her parents were probably cursing her to high heaven. Moreover, Aunt Millicent might not be pleased to see Abby appear unexpectedly on her doorstep. Aunt Millicent may be even less pleased to learn Abby had defied her father and fled her impending marriage.
At home, this idea of a grand adventure had seemed so exciting, and the perfect solution for avoiding that horrible man to whom her parents had betrothed her as a child. Now she wasn’t so sure.
In the crowded compartment, Abby shifted in another failed attempt to ease her aching limbs. Her toes were numb and her stomach growled so loudly she feared it might alert the passengers riding inside the coach.
With every painful, jarring mile, her courage faded. What was worse—running away or facing the terrifying man she was meant to marry? Perhaps she should have stayed and tried harder to find a satisfactory resolution instead of running like a coward. At least as Lady Rosenburg, she’d be fed and warm.
Unless the rumors about him were true.
A shiver crawled up her spine. What if the first thing he did as her husband was throw her into the dungeon? Or starved her? Or beat her? She tried to wiggle the feeling back into her toes as she imagined all the ways a cruel husband could make her life miserable. No, she was doing the right thing.
The carriage came to a rolling halt. Voices rose and fell, the voices of the driver and the passengers unfortunate enough to secure travel aboard this rattling trap. A posting inn. It had to be. Perhaps here she could make her escape and purchase passage on a different coach, inside this time. Surely she was far enough from home that her movements would not be traced. Hopefully, no one would remember her face if asked.
Breathlessly, she waited until the voices faded, then lifted the hatch. All appeared clear. She pushed the hatch all the way open and climbed out, her stiff limbs protesting as she unfolded them. A long breath of chill air cleared her head.
She stood in the courtyard of a busy inn situated off a tree-lined highway. Autumn had turned the trees all shades of gold and amber, like finely dressed guards standing at attention along the road. Her churning thoughts quieted as she beheld the magic of nature. After another bracing deep breath, she turned to retrieve her valise, but it was wedged between other bags. She had to tug hard before it finally sprang free. Before she could close the hatch, footsteps neared.
“’Ey there! Wot you think yer a doin’?” A large hand seized her by the elbow and spun her around.
A man with pocked skin and pointed teeth glared at her. She inhaled sharply as alarm washed over her like ice water.
“I’ll ’ave no stowaways ’board me coach.”
“Please, sir,” she gasped, “I’ll gladly pay you for passage. Only keep your voice down. I do not wish to be noticed.”
He jerked her forward, his fingers digging into her arm. She nearly swooned as his foul breath filled her nostrils. He leered at her. “Well, then, mayhap an arrangement kin be made, eh?”
“What is the fee, sir?” She held her breath, fearing his words.
“You give me all yer money, and yeself for tonight, and we’ll see wot we kin do t’ keep yer li’l secret.” He pulled her in roughly until her body pressed against him and lowered his head toward her mouth.
“No!”
She swung her hand, but before it reached his face, he caught her arm and let out a chilling laugh. Cold fear seized her lungs. He jerked her into his arms, his mouth twisted into a sneer. Fear turned to fury. She would not escape abuse at the hands of a husband only to find it with a stranger!
With all her might, she kicked him in the shin. He let out a roar and threw her to the ground. As she struggled to her feet, she tripped on the hem of her pelisse and fell to her knees. He raised his hand to strike her. With a cry of alarm, she threw her arm over her face, steeling herself for the blow, her heart thudding against her ribs.
“Stop!”
Abby looked up. A finely dressed gentleman strode toward the driver. Another gentleman, not quite so well turned out, followed in his wake, struggling to keep up with the other’s long-legged strides. It would have been comical if the situation weren’t so dire.
The nearest gentleman raised a fist, his commanding voice ringing out with authority. “What kind of barbarian are you to accost a lady? Leave off at once.”
Abby nearly wept with relief. A gallant hero to her rescue. But at what price?
The driver’s face twisted in rage. “She’s no concern o’ yern.”
“She is a lady in peril which makes her my concern,” the gentleman replied sternly.
“She stowed ’way on me coach and I demand payment.” The driver seized her by the wrists, and jerked her toward him.
The gentleman clapped his hand upon the driver’s arm. “Unhand her, or suffer the consequences.”
The driver shook him off and rounded on him with a sneer and fisted his hands. But before he could make a move or speak, the gentleman leveled a pistol at him.
“For heaven’s sake, don’t shoot him,” gasped the gentleman’s companion, a secretary or clerk, judging by his ink-stained fingers.
Her rescuer kept his gaze and his gun trained on the driver. With his other hand, he fished out a coin and flipped it to the driver. “Here. Cool your head in a pint and leave us in peace.”
The driver caught it and a greedy light entered his eye as he examined it. Then he crassly bit down on it, a direct insult to the integrity of an obvious gentleman of means.
With no outward sign of annoyance, the gentleman added, “And another for your silence regarding the lady and her mode of passage on your coach.” He tossed anther coin.
The driver snatched the coin out of the air and turned a sneer upon Abby. “This’ll buy me better company than yern, anyway.” He turned and touched his cap to the gentleman. “Milor’.” He strode away without a backward glance.
As the enormity of her danger hit her, a deep quiver gathered in the pit of her stomach and sprang into her chest. She gasped for breath, her heart hammering, tears burning her eyes. The adventure was, indeed, a very bad idea.
The gentleman knelt beside her and swept off his hat, revealing golden brown hair glinting in the setting sun. His brown eyes filled with concern. “My lady, are you hurt?” His gentle voice contrasted with the harsh tone he’d used with the driver.
“He nearly…I almost….” Her voice cracked and she dissolved into tears.
Still kneeling next to her, he removed his gloves and silently handed her his handkerchief. She struggled to take herself in hand, and, after several shaking breaths, managed to silence her sobs. After wiping her tears with his handkerchief, she looked up into his face.
His handsome, smooth-shaven face boasted strong features and a square jaw. A wide, ragged scar ran the length of his left cheek, standing out white against his sun-bronzed skin. But what drew her gaze were his eyes, light brown with gold and green flecks and rimmed with a deep green ring. She wondered if his eyes appeared completely green when he wore similar colored clothing, just as they now echoed the color of his coffee-colored frockcoat.
She searched those fascinating eyes, looking for lust or greed but found only kindness.
“My lady?” he prompted, turning his head slightly as if to shield his scar from her sight.
“No, I’ve
come to no harm,” she managed, still lost in his eyes. “Your aid was most timely, sir. I’m in your debt.”
“Not at all. I’m unable to resist a damsel in distress.” Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes as he extended his hands to help her to her feet.
With her gaze still locked in his, she placed her hands in his outstretched hand. As his fingers closed over hers, he gentled his touch, as if fearing to hurt her. She looked down, amazed at how small her gloved hands looked in his. He pulled her to her feet and stood very near. Her head barely reached his chin and his powerful shoulders looked sturdy enough to carry the weight of the kingdom.
“You’re trembling,” the gentleman said softly. “May I assist you inside? Perhaps you should eat. I can assure you the food is excellent.” He offered an arm and waited, watching her expectantly.
“Thank you.” As she placed her hand on his arm, she glanced at his secretary and saw only concern in his expression as well. Abby bent to retrieve her reticule and swayed.
The gentleman placed a hand under her elbow to steady her. “Do you have any other bags?”
“My valise.” She indicated the bag