Her lips twitched upward, seemingly against her will. She corrected her mouth into a straight line, but not before I noticed. Her eyes met mine from beneath her lashes, and the impact of her gaze sent a wave through my stomach.
I shifted my eyes away from hers. Reflecting on our first few meetings was not wise.
She looked down at her hands. “Well, then. I shall try to stop being amusing from now on.”
I leaned forward in my seat. “I would rather you not stop, actually.”
Alice met my gaze again, her eyes heavy. My heart picked up speed, a reaction that I had neither expected, nor was comfortable with. I took a deep breath, but it did little to steady me. What was she thinking? I wished I could read her thoughts, but I was having trouble even understanding my own. I musthave been tired, because she was suddenly just as endearing as she had been the first day I had seen her on the beach. Despite the circumstances that had led to our marriage, there was still something undeniably romantic about sharing a carriage at dusk with my new wife, enjoying a somewhat good-natured conversation.
A raindrop hit the window beside her, tugging her gaze away from mine. Within seconds, the light drizzle intensified into a heavy downpour. The sky darkened, grey clouds bleeding into the orange sunset.
“Drat,” Alice muttered.
Drat, indeed. The carriage slowed to a weak crawl, the wheels sinking into the mud. I had traveled in worse storms than this, but it would slow our pace considerably. The patter of the rain continued on the roof of the carriage, water racing down the windows.
“The poor horses,” Alice muttered.
I shot a glance in her direction. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
She nodded with a confused look, as if I were mad to consider anything else. I tried not to find it endearing, but once again I failed. I would have to train myself extensively to remember Alice’s faults.She was competing for your fortune.She had plans to ensnare you. The reminder would need to live in my mind constantly if I were to have any hope of disliking her.
The carriage continued to drag forward for several minutes before coming to an abrupt stop. A distressed whinny came from one of the horses, and Alice went rigid.
“What was that?” She craned her neck toward the window.
The worry in her features created an involuntary reaction within me. I stood swiftly, reaching for the door. I needed to resolve her worried expression at all costs. I had to.
The rain came down on my head, instantly soaking through my hair as I searched for the cause of our abrupt stop. The coachman stood beside the team of horses, his back hunched over as rain dripped from every inch of his clothing. I jumped down from the carriage, my boots sinking into the mud as I joined him beside a chestnut horse. “Is something amiss?”
The coachman jumped. He must not have heard my approach over the rain. “Sprained ‘is foot, this one. Got a limp.” He glanced up at me through the strands of wet hair hanging over his face.
The other horses stirred impatiently, their coats completely soaked as they awaited guidance. The lame horse whinnied again, snorting loudly as it shifted its weight.
“How soon can they be changed?” I asked.
“I can try to drive ‘em another mile to the posting inn. Might find fresh ‘orses there.”
I nodded, my own concern rising. At the moment, the horse seemed to be in a great deal of pain. If he could limp his way another mile, then he would be free to be sheltered, fed, and rested. It seemed to be the only option.
“Is he all right?” Alice’s voice made me jump, and suddenly I understood the coachman’s startled reaction to my approach.
I pivoted to face her. She stood directly behind me, hair and gown soaked through, much like they had been when she had gone for that untimely swim. “Devil take it.” I sighed.
“What?” she snapped.
“Why did you leave the carriage?”
She glared up at me. “It may surprise you, but I like the rain.”
“You seem to like water a little too much in general.” I raked a hand over my hair. Thankfully, the heaviest phase of the downpour seemed to be over. The rain had lessened to a steady drizzle, yet the damage had already been done.
Alice ignored me. Her arm brushed roughly against mine as she marched through the mud to place a hand on the horse’s neck. The creature startled a little at her touch, but then relaxed. She whispered something gentle in its ear, a stark contrast to how she had just addressed me.
She turned to the coachman. “He seems to be in a great deal of pain. Surely he cannot carry us any further.”
“He must, ma’am. The posting inn’s still a mile down the road.”
Alice shook her head, a scowl on her brow. “There must be a farm wagon or dray that might be sent to convey him to the posting inn. He cannot be expected to pull the carriage with such an injury.”
