Page 5 of The Winter Rogue
“It is perfectly civilized.Industrious men around the globe do precisely this.Only nobles and ungodly wealthy men have the luxury of lounging over breakfast.”
“It's bad for the digestion.Now get up and come over here to eat.You can use the cart as a table.”She left the cart where it was and came over to bully him out of his seat and over to the sofa.
Drew sighed in defeat and gave in, moving over to the sofa where she then pushed the cart into place so he could have acivilizedbreakfast.
After he ate, he had managed to fall into a pleasant rhythm with his correspondence when the next interruption came.
James, his butler, knocked.“Pardon the interruption, Mr.Wentworth, but with you gone the last few months, we had put many of the rooms to bed under sheets.Would you like to have the drawing room, the music room, the morning room, and the ballroom woken up?”
Drew sighed.He hardly used any of those rooms.“Open the morning room and the drawing room only.”He looked back down at the letter he was reading.
“Apologies, sir, but the guest bedchambers?”James asked.
Drew closed his eyes for a moment and reminded himself the man was simply doing the job he paid him to do.He would get through his letters eventually.“I am not expecting anyone at the moment.Perhaps have one opened up just in case anyone arrives unexpectedly.I wouldn't put it past Freddie to visit once he hears I am back.”
“Very good, sir.”James bowed and left the room.
Drew was just getting back into his work when Billy appeared, wanting to talk about the horses, so he set the papers aside and listened to his ideas on expanding the stables and rotating the studs for breeding.An hour later, he was finally alone again when a maid poked her head in to clean the fireplace and lay some fresh coals.He tried very hard to ignore her presence since he didn't recognize the girl, but she turned out to be a chatty little thing.She had all kinds of questions about sailing and the ocean.By the time she left, Drew was at his wit's end.
That was why, when Polly appeared once again, Drew glared at her.“How bloody hard is it for a man to get some peace and quiet in his own home?I've been away for three months with people constantly underfoot on board the ship and I think I had fewer interruptions in a day then than I have had today.”
“What do you expect?You said it yourself, you've been away for three months.There are plenty of decisions to be made now that you are back.”Polly put her hands on her hips and glared right back at him.“Now, I came in here to warn you that the weather has taken a turn.It's starting to snow, and I don't think it's going to be a light dusting either.”
“It has?”Drew turned around and actually looked at the window at his back.
Polly was quite correct.It was gray and blustery outside, and the wind was whipping as small flakes fell to dust the ground.He had to admit that while the chatterbox had played on his last nerve, the room was considerably warmer than it had been when she started the fire for him.
Drew grinned as he turned back around.This was one of the benefits of having the house staffed by villagers instead of live-in help.“You're right, Polly.It is snowing.Send everyone home for the day and tell them not to return until the snow has passed.”
“I understand, sir, it's for the best if they are all with their families when the snow comes in heavy.And it is coming.”She reached down and rubbed her knee as if in confirmation.“Now, what would you like for luncheon?”
“Some kind of sandwich will do.”He waved her off and turned back to his papers, satisfied that he wouldn't be disturbed again except for food.His steward had been very busy in his absence, and it seemed there was a mountain of papers still to work through.Surely nothing else would disturb him today…
Chapter Three
Charlenewasexhausted.Mostdefinitely more tired than she'd ever been in her life, as she sat inside the coach and let it jostle her along the rutted road.They had stopped the night before at an inn, but despite being tucked behind a locked door and John insisting on sleeping in front of her door in the hallway, she had jumped at every scrape of a foot, every opening and closing of a door, every burst of raucous laughter from down in the taproom.It was unnerving.
And to think, she had thought to make this trip alone!That had been her impulsive side getting her into trouble once more.
Getting into true trouble happened less frequently as she had grown older, but there was no question it still plagued her now and again.Just last week, she had crept off to attend a controversial salon she knew her parents would not approve of.The group was reading and discussing the merits of Marie Elizabeth Zakrzewska’s,A Practical Illustration of ‘Women’s Right to Labor’.Some ideas the women had were shocking.Some were intriguing.Charlene thought that many aligned with her own perspective; the very perspective that had informed her decision to run rather than marry Lord Fenwick.
The coach hit another pothole in the road, and she was nearly bounced off the bench.Charlene peeked outside the coach window, because John had insisted she keep the shades closed so no one would see she was a woman alone.She bit her lip in dismay at the snow that was falling.
Opening the hatch under the driver's bench, she called out to John.“Perhaps we should find another inn and stop.I don't want you freezing to death out there, not to mention the horses.”
“Me and the horses are fine.Besides, there are no more inns until we get to Brookhaven Village.I'm afraid we have to push through, but we should be there by nightfall.”
She sighed softly, once again regretting her impulsivity.“Very well, thank you, John.I am very sorry I dragged you out in this weather.”
“Tosh, girly.I wasn't going to let you run off alone.And you clearly couldn't stay, since that bastard laid hands on you,” John muttered.
A warmth suffused her chest, quickly followed by a pang of sorrow.In many ways, John was more of a father to her than her own.That was the response she had yearned to hear come from her father, rather than the insistence that she marry Fenwick.But it was not to be, and she hadn't really expected him to respond any differently.“Thank you, all the same.”
Charlene closed the hatch and sat back, preferring not to distract him from what seemed to be a challenging stretch of road to navigate.As the day wore on, the snow started falling harder and faster.The closer they got to home, the slower the going became.The temperature continued to lower with each passing hour, and she pulled the blanket tightly around herself.As the light faded outside, she grew more and more worried.
The wind was howling and from what she could see out her window, it was almost impossible to see very far ahead.Perhaps a few feet?She shivered inside the coach under a heavy fur lap robe which she had pulled out from under the seat when she could no longer bear the cold.She could only imagine how John was faring.She was about to suggest they look for a house to seek sanctuary in when the coach suddenly lurched to the right and she was tossed up against the side of the vehicle.The sound of wood snapping cracked loudly in the late afternoon quiet as the horses whinnied wildly, mingled with John’s violent curses.The man never cursed.
Everything settled into an eerie, unmoving silence.
