Bridget’s stomach twisted. She feared her sister had feelings for Adrian. Of course, the man had shown what a charming gentleman he made, even if she thought he wasn’t being truthful. She would have to be ready to console Priscilla when the scoundrel showed his true colors and broke her heart. Bridget prayed that he didn’t try to steal kisses from her sister as he had done with her. If that happened, she wouldn’t hesitate in blackening his eye with her fist.
A small voice in her head tried to tell her she wasn’t being reasonable.To err is human, to forgive divine.How many times had her father repeated this phrase? Even in his sermons, he talked about forgiving those who had trespassed against them.
Would she finally be able to get Adrian from her thoughts if she forgave him? There was only one way to find out… If only she could bring herself to forgive.
“You are quiet this morning,” Priscilla said.
Bridget shifted in her seat. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.”
“Is there something on your mind that you wish to share?”
Bridget nearly laughed loudly. If Priscilla only knew. “Nothing at all.”
Priscilla touched Bridget’s arm. “You have been quiet since the ball at Hanover Hall, and I’m worried about you.”
Holding her breath, Bridget scrambled to find things to say. She didn’t want to lie, but neither did she want her sister to know what had really happened at the ball.
“I’m sorry you are worried,” Bridget said. “But you shouldn’t be.”
“Are you hoping the earl makes an offer of marriage?”
Bridget swallowed hard. Once again, she didn’t know how to answer. She really should confess her feelings. She had always shared her secrets and dreams with her sister, and it truly wasn’t like Bridget to keep this bottled inside.
“Well, to be perfectly honest—”
Suddenly, the carriage tilted as the wheel hit something hard. Pricilla cried out, bracing one arm against the wall while her other arm held tightly to the basket. Bridget stiffened and tightened her grip on the reins. When the vehicle leveled, it wobbled terribly. She pulled the reins, stopping the horses.
“What just happened?” Priscilla asked.
“I’m not certain, but something is wrong with one of the wheels.”
“Do you think we ran over something?”
“I do, but what could possibly make the wheel so rickety afterward?”
Priscilla shrugged. The poor woman’s eyes were wide with fright and her face was pale.
Bridget scooted forward on the seat, preparing to get out, but her sister grasped her arm, stopping her.
“Where are you going?” Priscilla shrieked.
“To see what is wrong with the wheel. There is no way I dare drive the rest of the way to the manor if the wheel is damaged.” She released her sister’s hold and patted her hand. “Don’t fret. I shall be fine.”
She opened the door to the carriage and carefully stepped down. The muddy road would probably ruin her boots and the hem of her day dress, but sitting inside the conveyance wouldn’t accomplish anything.
The clouds hid the sun, and the trees created shadows across the carriage, but one thing was certain—one of the large wheels in the rear had been broken. She was correct in assuming that traveling to the manor would have only made it worse, and the vehicle might overturn. It was better that they stop now.
“What do you see?”
Priscilla’s worried voice came from the carriage, and Bridget looked toward her sister peeking out through the open door.
“The wheel is broken.”
“Oh dear.” Priscilla placed a hand to her bosom. “What should we do?”
“We need to walk.”
“Walk?In this weather?”
