Page 61 of A Love to Remember
Philip had just reached the foyer when first Sebastian and then Grayson were admitted to the house.
“What’s wrong?” Grayson asked.
“Lord Kirkwood has Rose,” Philip said. “We head for Devon.”
—
Rose kept her eyes closed. Behind closed eyes she could pretend she was not surrounded by pitch-black. That those scurrying noises were not vermin.
She curled tightly into one corner of her mattress, rubbing her abdomen gently while she whispered to her unborn baby that Philip would save them.
But as the hours passed, and no one came, her assurances changed. Rescue didn’t have to come from Philip. It just had to come.
She had not long fallen into a light doze when the grating sound of the stone entrance opening brought her awake. She tensed, praying it was not Tremain. That he was far up north near Yorkshire, and it would take him a few days to travel back.
But when she saw who came in, carrying the flickering candle, raw anger blew her fatigue away, and she surged off the bed. She’d landed one hard slap on Elaine’s cheek before the woman’s words penetrated her mist of rage.
“My lady, please.” Elaine sounded frantic. “We don’t have time. Lord Francis’s men will be back soon. We have to flee now.”
With that, Elaine gripped her arm and started dragging her back through the hidden entrance.
Even the small amount of light coming from the fire as Rose stumbled into the room made her blink, and her eyes started to water. Half-blind, she allowed Elaine to guide her through the house to the back stairs of the silent manor.
When Elaine opened the door to the outside, though, she cursed. “It’s snowing.”
Rose looked down at her feet. She wore only the dainty slippers she’d been wearing when Francis had spirited her away. She was also still clad only in her shift and robe. “I’ll freeze to death out there if they don’t catch us first.”
Elaine pulled off her own shawl and wrapped it around Rose’s shoulders. “I wish we could find you something more, my lady, but I’ve looked through the house and there is nothing there, not even blankets. I’m sorry. I should have brought one from the room where they kept you. But I dare not go back and we dare not stay longer. The snow will cover our trail, so it’s the perfect time to leave. There is a cottage about a mile to the left.”
A mile. “Where are we?” Rose asked, her teeth already chattering.
Elaine eyed her cautiously. “Devon. Near the coaching inn where we stayed on our way to Lord Kirkwood’s house party. I’m not sure precisely where. But we must leave. Then we must find shelter. Perhaps at the cottage we’ll find some clothes.”
Rose cast a glance back over her shoulder and then out at the gentle snow. Already she could feel her limbs starting to tremble. One mile. She could do that. She placed a hand over the child curled up in her womb. Of course she could. She had no choice.
“Then let us go before the snow really starts to fall. We will have to move fast.”
And wrapping the shawl more tightly around her, she stepped out into the cold and moved off in the direction of the cottage.
Even though the ground was not yet covered by the white flakes, it still took them far too long stumbling in the dark before they smelled the smoke from the little cottage’s chimney.
By the time they opened the gate Rose knew she was in trouble. She could no longer feel her feet, and her hands—which she had tucked into her armpits for warmth—were like blocks of ice.
When she stumbled on the path, Elaine ran ahead and pounded on the door. It opened a fraction of an inch and a woman’s face appeared. “Who’s there?”
“Can you help us please?” Elaine sounded frantic. “Her Grace is almost frozen to death.”
“Her Grace?” The door opened wider. “Lord have mercy!”
Rose, having reached the house, almost collapsed on the doorstep, but the young woman threw the door open wide, grasped her under the arms, and helped Elaine half drag her into the house. The door slammed behind them with a comfortingthud.
“Put her near the fire and I’ll bring blankets.” The young woman glanced down at Rose’s feet. “And thick stockings, too.”
Only a few minutes later Rose had been stripped to the skin and was swaddled in blankets before a blazing fire, with only her face showing. Elaine had removed her sodden slippers and replaced them with thick stockings.
She let the warmth return to her frozen bones. Soon she wanted to scream from the pain of her thawing hands and feet.
When Rose’s hands stopped trembling, the young woman pressed a mug of hot tea into them. As the heat of the liquid warmed her fingers they began to tingle again, and her insides began to thaw.
