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They’d been traveling for four hours following lunch as well as that surprising interlude, and Lucy was still in a bit of a temper with Colin.
Once he’d dumped her off his lap, he’d left her alone in the private dining room. Without any recourse, she’d resumed her meal and fumed at him. He hadn’t changed from the spoiled, selfish young man he’d been, still living for himself and the pleasure he could take. Her heart ached even now as she replayed their last conversation in her mind, for they hadn’t spoken of anything of import since they set out.
Sunset loomed, but with the low, thick, gray clouds, no one would see it. In fact, as the hours had ticked by, the snow had worsened and it now fell so heavily, when she looked out the window, she couldn’t discern the countryside after a few feet. As the coach struggled over the snow-covered road, the pace had slowed considerably from when they’d first started out. The prospect of reaching Lancaster Hall by midnight seemed an impossible task.
“It is pointless to continue,” she mentioned, but didn’t take her gaze away from the window. “You know this.”
He grunted and ruffled the pages of The Times he’d taken from the posting inn. “We’ll keep traveling until we cannot. We have but three or so miles to go.”
So close but so far away from the moment in time when their paths would no longer run together. “In this weather, even that slight difference could take hours.” Lucy rolled her eyes. Finally, she glanced at him. He wore a mysterious grin that she wished she could smack off his face. Arrogant bastard. “You’d risk everything for a foolish wager.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m not risking anything. At least not at present.” And he continued that maddening grin while settling behind his paper once more. “I hope to gain much more soon.”
Of course he did, for he thought of no one except himself. “I cannot believe I let myself appear so vulnerable in front of you.” She narrowed her gaze and concentrated on the furious snowflakes. “I shared the contents of my heart with you, let you kiss me, and now this.” She fluttered a hand to encompass him, the whole situation.
“Yes. And now this. It is quite a delicious end to what has amounted to a rather long journey. I enjoyed what we shared. It’s a shame to discover you did not.” He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything further.
Of course I enjoyed it. Kissing Colin, being back in his arms had felt like coming home, but not to any home she’d ever known. It was easy and right and just what a romance should be. Except... Lucy sighed, crossed her arms at her chest and brooded. How had she been so stupid as to let herself be charmed by him again? Her heart ached. At least she knew that if that organ broke a second time, she’d survive that too.
Damn you, Colin. This wasn’t the way she’d hoped to spend any portion of Christmas Eve, and she certainly didn’t wish to have more memories of Colin that centered around the holiday, yet here she was, her body fairly throbbing with unfulfilled need from his touch and her heart thrumming with an ache she couldn’t heal.
Not as long as he was still in her life. This must end before I’m broken apart.
Another excruciatingly slow ten minutes slid by while tension brewed about them. Then there was the unmistakable snap of a wheel breaking. Followed by the ominous leaning to the left of the coach. With a soft cry, Lucy slid across her bench to crash into the opposite side of the vehicle.
“Hell’s bells,” Colin muttered. He tossed his paper aside. “This cannot be a good thing.” When he fumbled at the door latch, the panel swung open. Apparently not expecting such swift reaction, the momentum swept him out and he fell from the disabled coach to land into a fluffy snow drift face first.
Lucy couldn’t contain her laughter, but she did lift a hand to cover her mouth as he struggled to right himself in the knee-deep snow. “Serves you right, you great nodcock.” Perhaps Ellen had been correct those few days ago when she’d ascertained Colin was bent on showing the whole of England what an arse he was.
“Do shut up, Lucy,” Colin tossed backward over his shoulder as he brushed at the snow that clung to his black clothing. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh, but it is.” For one second, she forgot her ire and continued to laugh. “Reminds me of that time when your brother chased you over the grounds for some prank you pulled on him. When he shoved you into that snow drift and then proceeded to pelt you with snow balls, the only way we could halt him was to group tackle him.”
Colin huffed. He shook snow from the brim of his hat before putting it back on. “Rescued by girls. That’s one story I’ll never tell Ellen.” Then he glanced at her, his eyes reflecting concern, his breath clouding about him in the cold. “Stay here. I’m going to attempt to fix the wheel. We need to keep our pace.”
Her annoyance returned five-fold. “Of course. You must arrive at the Hall before Christmas morning. Otherwise, no payoff for you. Poor Colin.” The snippiness in her voice shocked her, but she didn’t apologize. “Whatever will you do without more material things?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, I do wish to arrive at the Hall as soon as possible.” He opened his mouth to say more but then apparently thought the better of it, for he whipped around and left her sight line, presumably to talk with the driver, who’d hopped down from his precarious perch during their exchange.
Giving in to the cold that seeped into the coach’s interior, Lucy wrapped her cloak tighter about her person, and when that didn’t help matters, she snagged the fur-lined lap blanket from the floorboards and burrowed beneath it. Such folly to even consider traveling in the weather, and on deeply rutted roads at that, but then Colin had always been obstinate. His father’s wager drove him, and he couldn’t resist such glitter.
I had higher hopes for him than this.
Perhaps people didn’t really change. Her chest tightened at the thought. Had he been paying her lip service this whole time and laughing up his sleeve at her concern?
The two men talked. Then Colin cursed. The driver laughed, which caused Colin to curse again. Finally, he said, “Unhitch the horses. Ride one and tow the other. Once you reach the Hall, either send someone back for us with a sleigh, or if the weather continues to worsen, perhaps first thing in the morning, when the sun comes out, they can make the trip.”
“My lord, you can’t survive a cold winter’s night in the coach,” the driver protested. “You’ll freeze to death.”
“The lady and I are made of stern stuff. We’ll manage,” Colin told him, and his tone brooked no argument. He sounded every bit his father’s son in that moment. “The most important thing is for you to reach the Hall and rest the horseflesh.” His tone softened. “You’ve spent more than your fair share in the elements, and I’m heartily sorry I put you in such a bind.”
From inside the tilting coach, Lucy clutched the blanket to her chin. Was it possible he actually cared about someone or something over and above himself? She gawked out the window but couldn’t see either man clearly due to the snow. Then her thoughts swung in the opposite direction. What was he thinking leaving them out here to succumb to the elements?
“Think nothing of it. Happy to be of service, Lord Hartsford. I’ll do my best to see you’re retrieved as soon as possible.”
“I know the area well, my friend. If rescue doesn’t come, I’ll throw myself on the mercy of someone’s doorstep. Surely there’s a cottage nearby. It is Christmas Eve, after all. Bound to be family gatherings and fires burning. Anyone would consider it an honor to put up the duke’s son for the night, right?” But there was a trace of anxiety in his voice.
Lucy peered out the window as panic clawed at her insides. Nothing but farmland and woods met the eye for miles, even if she couldn’t see it because of the weather. “You’ve gone insane, Colin.” Perhaps that had been his plan all along, to enact revenge on her by seeing her frozen. “No one lives close by.”
“Right. I wish you the best of luck then, my lord.” The driver cleared his throat. As the horses grew restless and pulled at their harnesses, the coach jerked. “I best be getting on.”
“Excellent. No doubt my father will reward you handsomely. Godspeed,” Colin said, but worry threaded through his tone. Was he even aware of it? “I’ll give you a hand with the horses.”
Minutes later, the viscount returned to the leaning coach. He threw himself awkwardly inside and slammed the door closed. “Well, that’s that.”
Lucy shook her head. “This is not acceptable.”
“What else would you have me do?” He sat in the corner of his bench, leaning against the tilted wall while rubbing his gloved hands together. A wealth of snowflakes dotted the darkness of his greatcoat. “The man’s nearly at the end of his endurance. As are the horses. They can reach the Hall faster without pulling the weight of the coach. We shall be all right for a time.”
“I understand that part of the dilemma, and I applaud you caring enough about them that you’d have them seek shelter.” She glanced at him and shivered. The cold seeped through the blanket and her cloak. Then her stomach cramped. What if he died due to exposure? How could she live with herself, or never hear his voice again, and all because of some damned wager he wished to win, and the snit she currently had against him due to the same? She stifled the sob rising in her throat. It was petty and she was above such things, but love often was illogical. That made her suck in a tiny breath.
Was she once more in love with Colin? No. No, no, no. “You’ve put us both into danger for the sake of your ego.” A half-sob half-cry escaped despite her best attempts to stop it. Again, too many emotions besieged her and she didn’t know how to stem the tide. “What will become of my children if I perish? My parents are getting older, and Lydia doesn’t have the means or temperament to take them in. To say nothing of Fegley, for he bounces around the world too much...” Dear God, I cannot take the strain that always attaches to Colin’s presence.
“Nothing will happen to you.” His eyes had taken on a wicked gleam she didn’t wish to contemplate. “Not while I’m here, of that I can promise.”
A flutter moved through her belly at those noble words, but she doubted he meant them. Still, it was a nice gesture and she wished she could lean upon his strength, both physically and mentally. She missed that aspect of being with a man so much.
“I have your best interests at heart.” Colin gained his feet and when he moved to sit beside her, Lucy sprang into a standing position, battling to remain upright in the tilting coach.
“No. I cannot wait here for death.” I cannot put myself in a position to let him hurt me further. “If you want to remain for the sake of the wager you’d risk everything for, God bless you and I wish you well.” With the carriage blanket in one hand and the strings of her reticule about the wrist of the other, she unlatched the door, waited until it swung open and then she hopped down into the deep snow drift that came a few inches past her knees, for she was shorter than Colin. “I must do something to save myself. I have to see my children. I will not pass another Christmas in misery.”
“Lucy!” Was that panic in the one-word cry? Surely not.
She ignored his call. Instead, she wrapped the carriage blanket about her upper body and slogged through the snow, moving away from the coach that tilted drunkenly to one side. After a handful of steps, it was obvious that she’d made a huge error in judgment, for her foolish, pretty slippers of gold satin with kid soles were not made to hike through snow or the damp, even the handful of inches on the ground, for she tried to skirt around the deeper drifts. Neither was her thin skirting adequate protection from the frigid wind that insisted on blowing her over. A great shiver wracked her body, but she ignored the painful discomfort of the snow and cold that stung her limbs. The only way to reach a goal was to continue, so that’s what she did, regardless of the big snowflakes that stuck to her hair and eyelashes, or the pressing chill.
I cannot wait for a rescue that will not come. I have to survive, just like I always have—without Colin.
She didn’t know how long she’d trudged through the snow, but her feet felt like blocks of ice, the wind stung her face and froze the tears to her cheeks, and her fingers could no longer move even if she wished to let go of the blanket.
“Lucy Hudson, I demand that you stop this instant!” Colin’s shout echoed eerily in the frosty air. The snow-laden branches of both deciduous and fir trees muffled any sound save the hiss of snowflakes landing upon countless others.
But his use of her maiden name brought her to a halt. She yelled over her shoulder, “I haven’t been that girl for many years.”
“And well I know it.” His boots made a crunching sound as he came closer. “That has been the trouble during this whole trip, I think. I’ve been struggling under the notion that you were the same girl I knew back then, when you are clearly a completely different woman, though we share memories.”
Lucy continued her path. She didn’t want to help him through a muddle of thoughts. Not now, not when her own were fragile and still sparkling with a silly hope. “Some things are best left in the past.”
“I don’t accept that.” Two seconds after his words faded, something cold and wet slammed into her back, hitting right between her shoulder blades. “Memories are a good foundation, and I refuse to consign you to them.”
The man had thrown a snowball at her! With a huff of annoyance, Lucy swung around to look at him through the falling white flakes. “What the devil are you on about, Colin? This is hardly the venue for conversation.”
“Oh, indeed, I agree. However, this conversation has been brewing between us this whole week. Perhaps longer, and I won’t delay it further.”
Her breath puffed around her, but he was already scooping up another handful of snow. When he lobbed it in her direction, she darted out of the way. “You insufferable man.” They were not children any longer; his actions were outside of enough. Willing her frozen fingers to work, Lucy bent down and quickly formed a snowball of her own, patting it into shape, the snow hopelessly wetting the thin kid of her gloves. “I have nothing else to say to you.”
Then she hurled the snowball. It hit his left shoulder but did no damage.
“Is that really true, though?” Again, he threw a snowball. Lucy wasn’t quick enough and the icy cold missile smacked her in the chest. Tiny shards escaped down her bodice. “I saw the questions in your eyes, the need, and quite frankly, I’m of the hope that what you want mirrors my own wishes.”
“Temporary insanity, nothing more.” Flutters filled her belly, but she ignored the response. “What you want is reaching the Hall to win your father’s wager. It’s always been about that.” She formed another snowball and threw it. “Ha!” When it knocked his top hat from his head, she grinned. Then she sobered. “When the coach broke a wheel, you panicked because it’s already dusk and you’ll not make it home.”
“No.” He shook his head, choosing to leave his hat in the snow in favor of approaching her. His lake blue eyes were a vivid contrast against the white snow. “I panicked because you bolted out here like a ninny, and...”
“And?” She lifted an eyebrow while she formed another snowball.
“And I’m not strong enough to lose you again.”