Chapter One
January 1826
Traveling from Middlebie, Scotland (a wee bit north of Gretna Green), to Broadmere Hall in England’s Lake District
Lady Merry, youngestof the Duke of Broadmere’s seven high-spirited sisters, leaned out the carriage window, stretching both hands skyward. “Is there anything more delightful than snow?” The fluffy white crystals of the wintry haze thrilled her. She loved how it softened every sound to a gentle, hushed version of itself. The crisp air pinched her cheeks and nose, making her feel alive with the briskness of the season’s affectionate kiss.
Her eldest sister, Lady Serendipity, tugged her back inside, reached across her, and yanked the window covering shut. “Not dying of some dreaded ailment brought on by excessive exposure to this ghastly weather is far more delightful than snow. Now, please keep the window closed. Good heavens, Merry. One would think you a boisterous child rather than a lady turning two and twenty this month.”
“Seri.” With a sad shake of her head, Merry clicked her tongue, mimicking the pianoforte tutor none of the sisters had liked. “Snow is gorgeous, and winter is my absolute favorite season. What has you so out of sorts?”
“I am not out of sorts, and your loving winter is most strange.” Serendipity tucked the lap blanket closer around them. “Just because you were born in January does not mean you should strive to be theice queen.” Wrinkling her nose in worried disgust, she peered around the shade covering the window on her side of the carriage. “We should have remained in Middlebie for another day or so, as Miriam suggested.”
“You know as well as I that Miriam wanted us to stay at Middlebie because her husband is a bore—not because she feared the snowstorm would overcome us.”
Serendipity wrinkled her nose again. “Heisa dreadful bore, isn’t he? Poor Miriam. She does seem quite fond of him, though.”
The carriage lurched with a jerking bounce, then groaned as it careened over at a dangerous tilt and slid partially onto its side.
A muffled bellow shouted over the chaos, but Merry couldn’t make it out. “What did Jasper say?” Determined to calm her pounding heart and not panic, she stretched to open the window of the door that was now above them. The carriage shuddered again and shifted to an even more alarming angle.
With a shocked squeak, Serendipity bumped harder against Merry, pinning her to the wall of the coach. “He said, ‘Hold fast and do not move.’ We must be about to drop off into some sort of abyss.”
An abyss?Merry swallowed hard, resisting the urge to wriggle out from between her sister and the window frame biting into her shoulder. Images of them dangling off the edge of a cliff came to mind, then she scolded herself for being as ridiculous as Serendipity. That was pure silliness. There were no cliffs or abysses between Middlebie and Binnocksbourne. But there was the Channel of River Esk and the River Eden. Good heavens, what if the slippery roads had sent them into one of the rivers? The distinct gurgling of trickling water and crackling ice made itself known on her side of the carriage. “Jasper cannot possibly get us out of here by himself. We must think of a way to help him.”
“We are about to drown. What would you suggest?”
“Do not panic,” Merry said, noting the terror in her sister’s voiceand trying not to succumb to the same. “We must try to climb out. Very slowly and with the greatest of care.”
Serendipity clutched the lap blanket to her throat and huddled closer. “I am not moving. Jasper will save us.”
“Seri.” Merry flinched and cleared her throat to rid herself of the frightened shrillness in her voice. That simply would not do. Poor Serendipity had never liked water ever since the day their brother Chance had nearly drowned while chasing after a wooden sword the sisters had thrown into the pond. “Seri,” she repeated with more strength and certainty, “we have to help him by helping ourselves. Jasper is a lone man out there with a team of frightened horses to calm and a snowstorm to battle. I fear he is sorely outnumbered.” She wouldn’t add that the icy water was seeping in around their feet. If there was one thing she absolutely hated, it was wet feet. “Move slowly and with the greatest of care. Just push open the door and climb out.”
“You go first.”
“You are on top of me.”
Serendipity frowned, then cast a worried glance at the door above them while chewing on her bottom lip. “Fair point.”
Merry eyed her sister, impatiently waiting for her to move, but doing her best to be kind. Snipping at Serendipity because of her inability to overcome her fears would not improve the situation. “Well?”
Serendipity sadly shook her head. “I cannot. I am so sorry.”
“You must make yourself do this. If I wiggle out from under you, we might very well finish sliding into the river.”
“Jasper told us to hold fast.” With a shaky nod, she huddled deeper into the blankets. “I am holding fast.”
“There is water coming in,” Merry said, “around my feet.”
“You lie.”
“I never lie about wet feet, and you know that.”
Loud shouts could be heard outside. Men. Merry couldn’t sort out how many. “Someone is here. Thank heavens. Jasper has help now.”
“Either that or highwaymen have arrived to take advantage of the situation.”
“Gads alive, when your day goes awry, it sours your entire outlook, does it not?” Merry refused to dwell on the bad or worry that things might get worse. Worry changed nothing. It simply turned you into a miserable mess, unable to enjoy whatever goodness there might be left to embrace. There was always some good to be found somewhere. One simply had to look harder for it sometimes. She nudged her sister. “Are you not proud of me for saying,Gads alive,instead ofbloody hell?”
