Page 138 of A Duchess for his Family

Sophia ran toward the sound. Branches caught at her cloak as she left the road, the carriage lamps falling behind until only thin strips of moonlight guided her between the trees.

“Marjorie!” The name escaped before Sophia knew why. Then another frightened cry answered.

“Sophia!”

Her heart stopped. She broke through the last line of trees. The stream below had become a river. Recent rain had swollen it far beyond its usual banks, turning the quiet water Sophia remembered into a dark, rushing torrent. Muddy water struck stones and broken branches with frightening force, foaming white beneath the moonlight. And in the middle of it, upon a narrow strip of raised earth barely wide enough to stand upon, was Marjorie.

Her dress was soaked to the knees. Her hair had fallen loose. She was crying.

“Marjorie!” Sophia scrambled down the muddy bank.

“Sophia!” The relief in the child’s voice nearly broke her heart.

“What are you doing here?”

Marjorie wiped her face with both hands. “I was coming to find you.”

Sophia went still. “What?”

“I thought…” Marjorie swallowed a sob. “I thought if I brought you home, Uncle Benedict would stop being miserable.”

Sophia’s chest tightened painfully. “Oh, darling.”

“I knew the way to Keswick. I thought I knew it.”

“You came alone?”

Marjorie nodded miserably. The water surged between them. Sophia looked quickly along the bank. There was no bridge nearby and no safe crossing. The stream had overflowed around the small rise where Marjorie stood, trapping her upon what had likely been dry ground only hours earlier.

Marjorie’s lower lip trembled. “I am sorry.”

Sophia began removing her cloak. “No more apologies.”

“Sophia—”

“I am coming.”

Marjorie’s eyes widened. “The water is very fast.”

“I can see that.”

Sophia stepped into it. Cold struck like a blow. She gasped. The water reached her ankles, then her knees almost immediately. Her boots slipped against stones hidden beneath the brown current.

“Sophia!”

“Stay where you are.”

The water climbed to her thighs, but Sophia kept moving. Each step became a battle. The current pushed sideways against her skirts, twisting the heavy fabric around her legs.

She fixed her eyes upon Marjorie, not the water and not the distance, but on the child… only the child.

When Sophia finally reached the narrow strip of land, Marjorie threw herself into her arms. Sophia caught her. For one moment, she held the little girl tightly against her chest. Marjorie was shaking violently.

“I thought you were never coming back,” she whispered.

Sophia closed her eyes. “Oh, Marjorie.”

“I missed you.”