Page 15 of Snowed In with the Runaway Bride

As the coach lurched into motion, they began another loud conversation, this time debating a prizefight they had seen. Penny resisted the urge to cover her ears. It might seem rude, and she preferred not to draw attention to herself. The men likely assumed she was traveling with the older couple and she had no intention of correcting them.

The speed of the coach was a bit frightening, the rumble of the wheels along the road making the whole vehicle vibrate. It swayed from side to side, and Penny thanked her lucky stars she was not prone to travel sickness. The man sitting on her far side did not seem to have the same luck, and she watched in horror as he began to turn a pale green, the color creeping up from his neck to his cheeks.

A sharp crack, and the coach lurched wildly, throwing the passengers from the seats to the floor. Penny grabbed a handle dangling from the roof and clung to it for dear life, pulling her legs up to avoid becoming entangled with the much larger men.

The coach shuddered to a halt, listing to one side. After a few moments of shouted curses and various banging sounds that reverberated through the coach, the door was flung open to reveal the scowling driver.

“Out! All’a yez. Coach broke a wheel.”

Grumbling, the passengers obeyed, stumbling down the small steps to the ground. The snow was beginning to fall faster now, and Penny slanted a nervous eye at the sky.

“All right, then!” The driver’s voice cut through the buzz of conversation. “One postboy’s taking the mail to the next stop. Other one’s riding back to Little Dufton to fetch a wagon for ye. Jem’s stayin’ here with the rest of the horses.”

The grumbles of the crowd grew louder, and the driver raised his hand.

“I could leave all of yez here by the side of the road. I might still, if there’s this ingratitude.”

The driver turned on his heel and stalked away. Penny sprang forward to grab him by the sleeve. “Excuse me.”

Clearly startled by the refined tones of her voice, he stopped to gape at her.

“Is the only solution to return to Little Dufton?”

He pulled off his hand and tugged a hand through his graying hair. “The next village is three miles off.” He gestured down the road. It was already beginning to fade to white. “Ye’d be better off returning, miss.”

Penny looked each way down the road, bag in hand.

If she returned to Little Dufton, she might as well return to Gaitskill Castle. She would be found with even the slightest search. Kendal might be willing to throw her over for running at all, but she was unwilling to chance him deciding his honor required him to marry her even after her escapade.

If she continued on towards Carlisle, there was a possibility she could beg a ride along the way or find an inn or cottage that had space for her. Even staying away overnight should be enough to induce Kendal to break the engagement.

With a sigh, she hoisted her bag, fixed her gaze on the road to Carlisle, and walked into the falling snow.

Hugo found the mail coach first, half-slid into a ditch with the remaining horses already unhitched and being walked by the last post-boy. His heart seemed to clench as he saw the small half-filled footprints in the snow leading away from the coach, and he pulled his horse up beside the scowling post-boy.

“Where are the passengers?”

“Gone home,” the boy said.

“All of them?”

“They was all together, ‘cept for that one mort.”

Hugo clung to the reins of his horse like the grip could give him patience, and the horse snorted and backed up a few steps.

“Where did she go?”

The boy looked him up and down, lips pursed. “Dunno if I should tell you. What’s she to you?”

“She’s my… my sister.”

“She don’t look much like you.”

Hugo reached into his pocket and pulled out a sovereign. The boy’s eyes widened. “Which way?”

“Toward Carlisle. She was powerful eager to get to Carlisle.”

“Thank you.” Hugo tossed the coin to the boy and spurred his horse around to gallop off.