Page 9 of Miss Devon’s Choice

Christine stepped around her, her brow pulled down in thought. “I think so. Would you like to visit Mrs. Chandler in the morning? She has the loveliest new fabrics, and you are a special favorite of hers.”

“That sounds perfect.” Rebecca sighed and went to look in the mirror, tucking a loose strand of hair back into a pin. “I have saved nearly all my pin money to do just that thing.”

“You mean what pin money you haven’t spent on novels,” Christine teased, reaching out to assist Rebecca in smoothing her hair. “Let’s not let money be a worry, though. I would like to buy your dress for you, as an early wedding present.”

The kind offer caused tears to prick at Rebecca’s eyes, but she forced them away and was smiling when she turned. “Thank you, Christine.” She wrapped her arms around her elder sister in an embrace. With people who loved her in her life, even if her husband would not, there would still be some happiness to be had.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Christine went to the window and looked out, her eyes going up toward the sky. “I hope we have a drier party than last year. Poor Virginia, all of her outings were rained on.”

“Does she have a great many guests this time?” Rebecca came forward to look at the graying sky. “I remember summers being warmer when we were growing up.”

“I do, too.” Christine let the curtain drop from her hand and thought. “I know Lucas has invited members of his political party. He has a bill to present this season and he wants more support for it. Three lords.” Christine waved the question away. “And their wives and children, I’m certain. You will meet them all tomorrow.”

Rebecca laughed. “You could at least pretend an interest in Virginia’s guests.”

“Why? None of them have much to do with me, unless they wish to purchase a fine horse.” Her husband was a gentleman horse farmer, and Christine’s extensive knowledge and devotion to the creatures made her the perfect helpmeet for him. “And I will meet them all at some dinner party or another, so it is of little consequence. Come. Let us go down and get something for you to eat.”

“A wonderful idea.” Rebecca looped her arm through Christine’s. The conversation turned to lighter matters, and Rebecca almost managed to push her worries about Christian Hundley from her mind.

Chapter Four

Christian landed on the road with a horrid, squelching sound. His boots sunk in the mud. He raised his eyes to the gray skies above and ground his teeth together.

He walked to the wheel and looked it over, noting the split spokes coolly. “Where is the nearest village?” he asked, his voice barely louder than the rain. He cut enough of an imposing figure, he well knew, without raising his voice. It wasn’t the coachman’s fault they faced this delay, he reminded himself.

“We passed one about three miles back, my lord,” the coachman said. The groom riding with them came around the coach, leading one of the horses, and paused when he saw Christian standing in the mud.

“What do you mean to do?” Christian asked, looking from the startled groom to the driver. “It’s nearly nightfall. Do you intend to find a wheelwright?

“I-I had thought we might find another conveyance for you, my lord,” the coachman said. “Then we could worry over the coach.”

“How far away is Annesbury Park?” Christian asked, his impatience starting to creep into his tone. He curled his hands into fists at his side and ignored a droplet of water hanging from his nose. The rain had softened to a fine mist, but it was still soaking through him.

“Five miles, my lord,” the servant answered, pointing down the road the way they had been travelling.

“So you will go backward three miles, then find a way to move me forward five more?” Christian shook his head and shoved his hair back. “It will be dark by the time you return for the coach. There are four horses and four of us. You two,” he jerked his head to include the groom, “load as much of our baggage as you can on the horses. One of you remain with the carriage. The other will go back for help, and Mr. Dowding and I will go forward to Annesbury and send a wagon back for the remainder of our things. I would rather arrive bareback on a horse than stand around here and wait for this disaster to be solved.”

Dowding, whose name aptly described his temperament most of the time, stuck his head out the window. “Bareback? But the rain, my lord!”

Christian gritted his teeth again. “You can repair any damage it does to us later. For now, get out of the coach.” He whistled and Ajax jumped out, coming immediately to his side. That made one creature not standing about, questioning his orders. “Get moving,” he barked at the others.

Truth be told, the idea of sitting still, waiting, delaying his arrival and the meeting with his betrothed, would have driven Christian mad. He already fought against the twist in his stomach every time he thought about meeting Rebecca Devon. If he had his way, they wouldn’t lay eyes on each other until their wedding.

Christian’s party would arrive late at Annesbury Park as it was. He didn’t want to delay for another day. It would be better to get there and get the worst of it over with. But now they would be wet, too, and likely smell of the animals they rode.

“I’m not certain I can ride bareback,” Dowding admitted, carrying a small trunk around the back of the coach. “Are you equal to the task, my lord?”

“We will do well enough, Dowding,” he said, moving to take the horse from the groom. “And if it proves to be a struggle, you may always walk.” He smirked to himself when he heard Dowding’s gasp. The fussy valet wouldn’t be pleased until they were both clean, dry, and wearing properly tied cravats again.

After ten minutes of loading and unloading bags, making certain the trunk with his violin case was protected from the rain, and trying various means to affix things securely to the horses, three men rode away from the broken carriage and the groomsman remained behind, given permission to sit inside, waiting for help. Ajax trotted along next to Christian, obviously happy to stretch his legs.

They rode at a sedate pace, more for Dowding’s sake than anything. The valet stayed silent, his full focus on riding, which gave Christian some blessed peace. The mist remained with them.

It was growing darker, and the rain started falling again, when they passed through an iron gate and beneath enormous chestnut trees. Christian’s stomach twisted and turned; his first meeting with his future wife grew nearer.

He looked up at the big house before him, seeing lights in nearly every window, and shuddered. If he was lucky, they would alert no one but the servants to their arrival. Christian would get to his rooms, change into whatever they had brought that was still dry, and join the party inside for a warm meal.

His stomach jerked sharply, reminding him that eating might not be something he actually desired.