Chapter One
October 31, 1810
Rosalinde Wilde pulled the edges of her worn pelisse tighter around her body, and yet she still shivered. The thin fur lining did almost nothing to block out the bitter wind that seemed to swirl in the carriage. Her poor maid, Gertrude, huddled closer, the two women seeking body heat to save them from the chill.
“Great God,” Rosalinde muttered as she fought to keep her teeth from chattering. “Grandfather meant to punish me by making me take the oldest carriage in his fleet to Stenfax’s estate, but this is beyond the pale.”
Gertrude shrugged. “H-how could anyone guess that a snowstorm would hit in October?”
Rosalinde kept her counsel on that question. She feared that even if her grandfather had known a chance storm would overtake them on the road, he might have still forced her to follow him and her beloved sister Celia to the country now instead of allowing her to accompany them when they had made their own trek ten days before. After all, he claimed Rosalinde was a bad influence on Celia. And he seemed to like hurting them both.
A blast of loud wind hit the vehicle, rocking it back and forth violently. Rosalinde squeezed her eyes shut. Without the inclement weather, their carriage would normally be rushing along at a brisk clip. Now they hardly moved as the snow swirled and the wind howled. She pitied their poor groom Thomas and the driver, Gertrude’s husband Lincoln, who were forced to ride out in the elements.
“We’ll never make it to Caraway Court tonight, Mrs. Wilde,” Gertrude all but wailed.
Caraway Court. It was the estate of Celia’s intended, the Earl of Stenfax, where Celia would be wed in a fortnight. The name made it sound very grand, indeed, but Celia had written that parts of it were somewhat in shambles, proof of Stenfax’s need for a bride with a dowry. Of course, Celia needed to wed a man with a title, so the match was perfect.
Rosalinde sighed, determined to push away troubling thoughts. She squeezed Gertrude’s gloved hand and focused instead on comforting her frightened maid. Rosalinde was strong. She’d always had to be.
“Oh, Gertie,” she said softly. “We’ll be fine!”
She smiled in the hopes Gertrude would not see her own hesitations and fears about the idea of being stranded in the freezing cold. But no sooner had she managed an expression she hoped didn’t resemble a grimace than the carriage came to a stop.
Rosalinde pulled back the curtain covering the drafty window. Outside the storm swirled on and the late afternoon sun was fading far faster than it should have been. Fear gripped her despite her best efforts to keep it at bay.
The carriage rocked again, and suddenly her groom appeared at the window. Thomas smiled shakily and opened the door. Although he tried to block it, wind and snow blew in around him.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilde,” he said, “but I don’t think we can go much farther. There isn’t much snow itself, but the wind is blowing it around so much that it’s near impossible to see.”
Rosalinde nodded. “I can see it’s getting treacherous, indeed. But what are we to do, Thomas? We may freeze if we remain out in the elements overnight.”
Thomas shot the frightened Gertrude a look. “Lincoln has an idea,” he began.
Gertrude leaned forward, smiling at last, as she always did when she heard her new husband’s name. “Does he?”
Thomas pressed his lips together in worry before he said, “Aye. He says there is an inn a few miles east of the main road. If we can make it there, we’ll be safe for the night.”
“Mr. Fitzgilbert will be furious if we don’t make it to the estate as planned,” Gertrude whispered.
Rosalinde swallowed hard. That had been her own notion, and she couldn’t deny the anxiety in her chest when she thought of the potential for his wrath. Even an act of God like the snow wouldn’t appease her grandfather, she was certain.
She looked at her groom, his face bright red from exposure to the wind and cold. She could imagine Lincoln was just as miserable, not to mention the poor horses. There was no way she would deny them all shelter and perhaps sentence them to death.
“Grandfather can hang if he thinks I’ll get us all killed for the sake of his foolish timeline,” she said. “Thomas, tell Lincoln to try for the inn.”
Relief flashed over Thomas’s face, making clear how dire the circumstances were. He nodded. “I will, ma’am. But be warned, it will likely take close to an hour to get there on these roads.”
Rosalinde flinched at the prospect but forced a smile. “Just do your best.”
He closed the door and Gertrude reached out to readjust the curtains on all the windows to hold in as much heat as possible. As the maid turned her head, Rosalinde could see the increased worry on her face. The fear.
She reached out to touch Gertrude’s arm. “Gertie, Mr. Fitzgilbert won’t hold you responsible,” Rosalinde said softly. “I will ensure that he blamesmefor our delay.”
Gertrude didn’t look fully convinced, but nodded nonetheless.
Rosalinde settled back against her seat and shoved her hands into her pelisse pockets. “Celia will worry, though,” she mused out loud.
“Yes, but she must be very caught up in arrangements for the wedding. That will distract your sister.”
