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“Everything alright, Sam?” I called, pulling my shawl over my shoulders. Quiet, save for the relentless rain.
I groaned and tapped my fingers against the car again.
“Samuel! This is not funny, please, can we get moving?”
The horse protested, pulled rapidly forward, and stopped again. A rush of wind cut through the carriage, blowing out the last of the flames from the remaining candles and tearing through my shawl, freezing my blood and giving me full body convulsions. It was almost completely black. Ice was truly beginning to trudge through my veins.
“Sam!” I cried in terror. The hairs on my arms stood and I shook, teeth chattering as the temperature dropped rapidly. “Sam, please can we get moving. At least come and talk to me!” I peeked out the small hole that faced the driver to emptiness. He and the horse were gone.
Air was knocked out of me, sinking into my seat to bring my trembling hand to my mouth and hold back the scream building. The space around me pressed against my body, tight and suffocating.
There was no sense in being a terrified little girl, I reasoned with myself. Vampyres and lycanthrope didn’t exist. But I supposed it didn't have to be a fictitious creature. There could be a man out there, half mad with rage and bent on killing. I kept my mouth shut with the palm of one hand, and the other pressed against my racing heart. How could I defend myself?
For a moment, I tried to calm myself enough to peek outside. It was too dark to see anything beyond the tree line.
In a bright flash of lightning, a dark figure loomed some twenty paces away. His shoulders hunched over in a stance that suggested he was hunting. I slammed back into the farthest corner of the carriage as my chest heaved up and down, begging me for air. I couldn't breathe nor could I think. In the next flash of lightning, his shadowy figure was standing outside of my door.
The blood curdling shriek that escaped my body appalled even myself, and I did not realize it was me until the door creaked open.
“Calm down, Miss Abbott! It is only me!” The blazing green eyes demanded, half crawling inside the carriage, reaching for me.
I stopped screaming and laughed shakily.
“Oh, dear, Mr. Blackwell! You frightened me.” I tried to regain my composure, grateful he, out of everyone else, had found me.
“I'd say I did, and I apologize. I heard your horse and came quickly. Though, it appears both your driver and horse are missing... has he left you here, Miss Abbott?” William asked, brows stitched together in concern.
I stared at him, stood there in the rain, and found myself completely lost for words. His red-brown hair was soaked and matted to his forehead, his green eyes were the darkest I'd ever seen them and I tried to recall just how light they’d been but failed. Fat drops plopped against his shoulders as he ripped his jacket off to offer it to me.
“I am not sure where he is, Mr. Blackwell,” I cleared my throat, my eyes glancing down at his broad chest, white cotton shirt drenched, clinging to his body with every curve. I followed the lines of his sculpted chest, his hardened nipples, down to his waistband. His body flustered me further.
“Well, I will have to complain to Mr. Abbott when I get you home. Come along, now. I know my coat is not exactly dry, but it will offer more protection than your lace.” His icy hand gripped my thin gloved fingers and he tugged gently to spring me from my prison.
“Oh, but Mr. Blackwell—"
“Call me ‘William,’” he insisted. I flushed, and drew my hand back, smiling slightly at his casualness.
“Mr. Blackwell,” I replied, “I simply couldn’t possibly, not out there in the rain. My mother surely would throw an even bigger fit should I walk the entire way home in this sort of weather. And I’ve no way to carry all my purchases.” Admittedly, I was only playing the game, and when a bright flash of lightning inched me forward, I practically yelped into his arms.
He laughed quietly, pulling the lace shawl over my head, wrapping his wet coat around my shoulders. Gingerly, he cradled me in his arms.
The wind was fierce out in the open, I leaned my head in the crook of his neck as gusts cut right through me. He smelled so simply sinful up close, bergamot and frost.
“Are you alright, Miss Abbott?” he whispered, picking up the pace after he looked behind us. The temperature dropped even further, freezing.
“I am perfectly peachy,” I lied through tight lips, pressing myself into him more, we were positively drenched. “Mr. Blackwell, where are my driver and horse?”
“I am unsure; however, I do know that we need to be heading quickly, please tuck your head in more so you might stay warm,” he murmured, a breath in my ear. If I had not already been covered in goosebumps, it would have raised them.
I did as I was told, pressing my face against the chilly skin of his neck. The muscles of his body moving with great force under mine, the wind whipping faster through us. Raindrops grew sharp, turning into tiny shards of glass. Had my mouth been open, the breath would have been taken straight from me.
I was petrified from the sudden change in the storm, but dared not disobey him. It was only a few heartbeats when he came to a slow and casual walk. The rain became sheets of ice, coating us both in bone chilling chunks.
“We are at your gate, my lady,” he said quietly. I wasn’t sure if I imagined the pressure of his lips on my forehead. My teeth began to chatter as I nuzzled closer in shock and disbelief. We could not have been so close to my home.
And had he just kissed me?
“Miss Abbott, are you unwell?” he asked, somehow managing to push the gate open and walk the fifty paces to the front doors in record time. The lamp light filtered through the windows, causing the falling ice to turn into tiny gold pieces from the sky. The door was suddenly flung open, my father’s voice echoing through the space between us.
