Relief flooded through her. So that's why he'd been so angry. "Then you do understand?"
He spread his arms expansively. "Come, let me hug you. This must never happen again." When she was in his embrace, he continued, "Do you know we've had our first quarrel? Of course, go to Italy. I won't like it, but I shall wait—forever if I must."
What a relief to be in Richard's arms again. Flora decided she would forget this little scene ever happened. He had been upset, that was all, and with good reason. She'd experienced a dreadful moment when she thought she was seeing the real Richard for the first time, a selfish, shallow Richard.
Thank goodness, she'd been wrong.
* * * *
Next morning, a flurry of snow flakes brushed Flora's face as she stepped out on the portico along with Amy and Baker. Richard's coach awaited, their luggage already strapped on top. Richard, bundled in a greatcoat, beaver hat and a warm scarf that covered much of his face, already sat in the box atop.
Concerned about the several inches of snow on the ground, Flora called to him, "Are you sure we should go?"
He called down, "Why not?"
"The snow—we don't want to get stuck."
"Nonsense
. The roads are perfectly safe. A bit of snow won't hurt us. Don't be so hen-hearted. Get in."
Against her better judgement, Flora climbed into the coach, trying to reassure herself that if Richard said the roads were safe, then they were safe, and she shouldn't worry. Easier said than done. The north-east wind seemed to be veering around to every point of the compass. Snow was falling heavier by the minute.
She decided to say nothing more, fearing she might offend Richard again, and that was the last thing she wanted after their quarrel last night. Besides, she knew she must show her trust in her future husband. He was the man of the family now. She must respect his judgement.
They started out, and hadn't gotten a mile before Flora started worrying in earnest. It was freezing cold, the wind sharper than ever. The snow, falling heavier now, was slanting sideways, almost horizontal. "Lord Dinsmore must be miserable up there," she remarked as she drew her cloak closer.
Huddled in blankets, Baker dourly remarked, "Why he does it as a hobby is beyond me. I've heard tell of coachmen freezing to death in the box, as well as guards and outside passengers."
"But I'm sure that doesn't happen often," said Amy.
"Amateurs," scoffed Baker. "These noblemen who think they know four-in-hand, bah! If you ask me—"
"No one's asking you, Baker," said Flora. "Lord Dinsmore knows what he's doing. We'll be fine."
The coach kept going slower and slower, through ever-higher drifts until it barely moved. Finally it stopped completely. In another moment, the door flung open and a shivering Lord Dinsmore climbed in. "My God but it's cold as death out there." He stripped off his gloves and vigorously rubbed his hands. "Can't see two feet in front of me. There's ice beneath the snow. Horses slipping all over the place. Won't worry about them running off, they're good as stuck."
Flora asked, "Do you think we should return to Pemberly Manor? We haven't gone all that far, have we? Or, for that matter, Vernon Hill is ahead. Perhaps we could take shelter there until the storm—"
"Certainly not." His male pride obviously wounded, Richard threw her a look of scorn. "There's no need to ask for help. I said I'd get us through and so I shall."
"I have every confidence you will." Flora knew better than to argue. Perhaps he could use some help, though. She had no desire to leave the relative warmth of the coach but felt she should volunteer. "Let me help. You know your cousin taught me four-in-hand, and if I could be of assistance—"
"You?" Richard's voice was scathing. "You're only a woman." He looked amazed. "Dinsmore might have taught you a bit of four-in-hand, but don't think for a moment you know enough to drive this coach."
Wishing she hadn't asked, she said no more. Richard lingered a few more minutes, warming himself. At last he announced he was ready, exited the coach and disappeared atop. Flora heard him yell a curse, along with, "All right, now! Off you go
." She heard a repeated cracking of the whip. At last the coach started to move. It was going at a reasonable pace again when suddenly she felt it skid sideways. She held her breath as it came to a sudden stop, then tilted, as if it had gone into a ditch. At that same moment, Flora heard a desperate cry. In horror she watched as Richard fell past her window and landed on his side in the snow.
"Everyone stay here
," Flora yelled and swung open the door. Snow stung her face. A biting wind cut through her as she hugged her cloak closer about her and stepped into a snow drift.
Richard lay moaning. Thank God he wasn't dead, she thought as she knelt beside him. "Are you all right?"
"Couldn't hold on when the coach tipped," he gasped, obviously in pain. "Fell. God, my shoulder!"
"You can't stay out here. Come, you must get inside or you'll freeze."
Both Amy and Baker joined her. Between the three of them they managed to lift Richard back into the coach. "Watch my shoulder," he kept calling. He lay back against the squabs, gripping his shoulder, obviously in great pain. "I know it's broken," he said.
Flora solicitously hovered over him. "We'll get you to a doctor soon as we can."
"We'll stay here until help arrives," he said with another moan. "I cannot go atop again."
Baker protested, "But, your lordship, what if no one comes along? If we stay we'll freeze."
"Can't help it...can't drive." Richard seemed on the verge of fainting.
Baker was right, Flora thought with a sinking feeling. The undeniable and dreadful facts were clear: the temperature was dropping; if they stayed here they would indeed freeze. But Richard was helpless. In a moment of fearful clarity she realized there was only one solution. "I shall get us out of here," she quietly announced.
"Impossible," replied Richard, wincing in pain. "We're in a ditch...horses floundering...can't be done."
"Oh, yes it can," Flora firmly replied. "Do you think I'd just sit here and let everyone freeze? No, I've got to try."
Over Richard's weak objections, Flora collected blankets and took his scarf to wrap around her face. She said to Baker and Amy, "Come help me. We'll see if we can free the wheels. Then you get back inside."
Bracing themselves, the three stepped from the coach and circled around it, fighting constantly against the biting wind and stinging snow. At first, the situation looked hopeless. The coach had indeed slipped off the road and tipped partway into a ditch. The team of four horses was foundering in the snow. "But look, Amy," Flora called. "The horses aren't quite in the ditch. If we can shovel the snow away from the wheels they'll be able to pull the coach out."
Taking turns with the one shovel from the coach, they soon cleared a path for the wheels. "Now get back in, Amy and Baker," Flora called over the howl of the wind. "I'll do the rest."
Clutching her cloak and blankets around her, the scarf covering her face from chin to nose, Flora climbed to the box and took up the ice-covered ribbons in her right hand, the whip in her left. Could she do this? How different this was from those sunny afternoons when she and Charles had gone four-in-handing.
You can't, you can't
, cried the little voice.
But I can because I must
.
"All right
. Wo-ho! So-ho then!" she called, cracked the whip over the heads of the horses and snapped the reins. At first the coach refused to move. She tried again, calling louder, cracking the whip with increased vigor. At last the coach began to move and they were out of the ditch, back on the road.
Remembering the lessons Dinsmore and Lord Lynd had taught her, she firmly grasped the ribbons and drove the coach straight ahead to the first shelter she could think of, Vernon Hill. Snow blinded her eyes so that she could barely see. The cruel wind bit straight through blankets, scarf, and cloak, benumbing her with cold. Ah, to feel the warmth of the coach again! But she would not give up. She would freeze to death right there in the box before she would surrender to the cold.
With the snow almost totally obscuring the landscape, she nearly missed the entrance that led to Vernon Hill. At the last moment, she spotted it and turned up the driveway. With the last of her strength, she halted the horses at the front entryway and climbed down, almost losing her balance in a drift of snow.
Shaking with cold, she staggered to the door and pounded with her fists with all her might. Finally it opened and there stood a startled butler. Snow fell from her cloak as she stepped inside and saw Lord Lynd approaching. "Oh, it's so good to see you, Lord Lynd," she called as she fell into his arms, wet, cold, shivering, happy they were all still alive.
* * * *
The next few hours were a blur. She remembered Lord Lynd summoning his footmen to carry Richard to bed, ordering housekeeper and maids to see to Amy and Baker. She especially remembered how he personally carried her to an upstairs bed chamber, slipped off her shoes, waited outside while the housekeeper helped her remove her wet clothes. When she was safe under warm blankets, Lynd returned, frowning with concern. She especially remembered his reaction when she, through chattering teeth, poured out the story of how she'd managed to free the coach from the ditch and drive it to Vernon Hill.
"How courageous of you," he exclaimed. "How brave. Not many men could have done what you did. You have my utmost admiration."
After he left, Flora slept for a time. When she finally awoke, she dressed and asked after Richard. She hastened to his side and found him propped in bed, wearing a night shirt, his arm in a sling.
"You look much better," she said, as she sat by his bed and took his hand. "I am so relieved. Is your shoulder still painful?"
"Of course it's still painful," Richard answered petulantly. "Not like before, but bad enough. I am amazed at you."
"Really?" She prepared for another compliment, hoping he would not be too effusive when he thanked her for saving his life.
He glared up at her, eyes suddenly hard and filled with dislike. "Don't you ever do that again."
She was dumbstruck. "Do what?"
"You mean you don't know?" he inquired, voice loaded with sarcasm. "When you become my wife, I shall expect you to act in a ladylike manner at all times. If you ever take the reins of a coach again, I shall divorce you on the grounds you've acted like a hoyden."
"But...but...," she sputtered, "I saved our lives."
"Nonsense. Had you not been so impetuous, I've no doubt help would have arrived. Your blatant bid for attention was for
nothing. You've done nothing but disgrace yourself."
Flora stood silent, her thoughts churning, until at last something clicked in her brain.
I do not love Richard
.
It was a moment of clear revelation. She should have known it yesterday when he was so nasty about Amy. Why hadn't she seen before that he wasn't her golden prince but just another petulant, spoiled dandy who cared for no one but himself?
How could she have been so stupid? What a waste of her fantasies! But lately her fantasies had been about...
Lord Lynd! Her heart swelled with a feeling she'd never had before as suddenly she found herself looking through the world with different eyes.
I love Lord Lynd
.
He was no golden prince, but who wanted one? Despite his bluntness and cynicism, he was generous and kind. He had loved her once, and she'd ruined that. No doubt he could never love her again after seeing how foolish she'd acted. Still, she remembered her shivers of excitement that day he kissed her...
Oh, yes, she wanted Lord Lynd. And not just because he was generous and kind, but for reasons she blushed to think about. Well, she'd have her fantasies, if nothing else.
"Well?" Richard asked impatiently.
She forced herself to return to the matter at hand. "Since you feel I've disgraced you, you had best not marry me."
Richard smirked. "Oh, we'll marry all right, and in future you'll do as I say."
Fury almost choked her. "I won't be marrying you, Lord Dinsmore."
"Oh, yes, you will."
"You couldn't drag me to the altar."
"You'll come willingly," Richard answered with an infuriating smile.
What did he mean? Something sinister, she suspected, but she couldn't think what. Concealing her fear, she asked, "Might I ask why?"
"Because if you don't, I shall go straight to the Duke of Armond and tell him about Amy."
She gasped aloud. "You wouldn't."
"I would and I will."
"You would ruin my sister's life?"
"Oh, come now, Flora, be reasonable. I am fond of you, you know. You won't have such a bad life. You want babies, don't you? Rest assured I'll give you plenty. I'll be good to you, I promise, and you'll still be the grand hostess of Pemberly Manor."