Page 1 of A Bride for the Cruel Duke

ChapterOne

“Help!” Lady Caroline Hawkins cried out desperately as she ran full pace down the twisting road. “Help, please! Somebody, help!”

The road was narrow, surrounded on both sides by dense forest, empty of any signs of life save her own... and those who followed her. It wound through the forest like a slithering snake so that she could not see more than a dozen or so feet ahead, with no idea where it was taking her. The only thing she was certain of was that the way ahead was safer than behind.

“Anybody! Help!” As she ran, she was forced to hoist up the skirt of her dress so that she would not trip, although the heels she wore caught in the dirt and mud, skidding on stones and making it almost impossible for her to stay on her feet as she sprinted. The only thing that kept her from tumbling over completely was a keen sense of survival of which she had not known she was in possession until it became the only thing keeping her alive.

This cannot be how it ends. An accident, then a stupid decision made, ignorance because I did not consider the grave consequences of what I was doing until they were upon me.

“Help! Help!” voices cried out from behind her. They were mocking and glee—filled, sardonic in the way that they pursued her. “Help!”

She dared a glance over her shoulder. Through the bend of the road, around the trees, she spied movement; shadows which chased her. She gasped and forced her attention ahead, not scared of the shadows so much as she was of those who made them.

Thankfully, the winding road looked to straighten ahead before widening considerably.The main road. Thank the heavens!

Determined, taken by a second wind, Caroline found a renewed sense of energy and pushed herself to run faster.

A moment later and the roadway opened into a crossroads, which didn’t tell Caroline anymore about where she was but at least it might increase her chances of being found.

Breathing heavy, sweat drenching through her dress, she spun herself about, eyes darting in panic down the intersection. The road was wider here, and the trees around her thinned considerably. A quick glance back the way she had come told her the shadows chasing her had gone but they were likely just around the bend, and she didn’t have time to think. She needed to make a choice and stick by it!

Think of the story this will make, at least. For once, I might not be considered the boring child.

She spun to her right and was about to charge for all her life was worth, only to catch the sound of something in the distance... a rumbling... the earth shaking as if it was about to split in two... no. It was a carriage!

Her eyes lit up, relief flooding her as a horse-drawn carriage suddenly appeared upon the road. Caroline could have cried she was so darn happy, but desperate too, because she needed to get the passenger’s attention. Perhaps that was why she didn’t notice how fast the carriage was moving until it was almost on top of her.

She ran for it, arms waving in the air. “Please! Help! You must help me!”

It came at her. Her eyes turned wide when she realized it wasn’t slowing down. A gasp escaped her lips, her heart lurching through her mouth, the horses seeing her before the coachman as they reared up on their back legs in a vain effort to stop before crushing her beneath their hooves.

“Oh!” She dived out of the way, although it was more of a full-bodied heave. Through the air she tumbled, her hands scraping along the dirt, and her knees dragging painfully behind, before her shoulder rammed into the ground and she came to a sudden stop.

“Whoa!” she heard the coachman reign in the hoses. “Easy there!”

“Wh...” The world turned and her body ached as Caroline rolled onto her back, somehow forcing herself to her knees and then her feet.

The carriage had come to a stop only a few feet from where she was standing. The horses, in a panic, neighed and trounced as the coachman tried to settle them. No doubt he would be angry with her, not that she cared one little bit. She needed saving and whoever it was inside that carriage was going to have to do.

“Please!” Caroline lurched toward the carriage. “Please!”

“Miss!” the coachman called out, only just now spotting her. “What on earth are you doing in the middle of the road?”

“There’s no time!” she stumbled toward the carriage, throwing herself at it. Out the corner of her eye, she could see the way she had come, the shadows which had been pursuing her growing large once more. “We must go!”

“Go where?” he barked. “Is something the matter?”

“There’s no time!”

The door to the carriage suddenly swung open and where it might have been Caroline’s imagination, a breeze as cold as ice swept from the inside as if winter had come early. She felt it through the panic, through the sweat that coated her body, through her flesh and into her bones so that she gasped even before seeing who it was that lurked within.

“What is the meaning of this?” a deep voice carried from inside. It was like a storm gathering over the ocean in the dead of night, filled with foreboding and dread. “Mr. Gulliver?”

“There’s a young lady!” the coachman, Mr. Gulliver, answered as he turned back in his seat. “Came from out of nowhere, she did!”

“A young lady?” From inside the carriage, the owner of the voice climbed outside, the cold which exuded from his presence coming with him. It was a bright day, cloudless and sundrenched, but as his feet hit the dirt, and he stepped around the open door and fixed his gaze on Caroline for the first time, the sun itself seemed to retreat as even it feared who this man was and what he might be capable of doing. “You? What on earth do you think you are doing?”

Caroline froze. Her mouth was open to answer the question, but she found herself unable to form words as if the gaze of this man—whoever he was—smothered them before they reached her lips. That was not to say that he was scary, certainly not compared to what she ran from. Rather, he was intimidating, possessed of a raw power and sense of command that made it appear as if the world itself moved according to his whims.

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