Page 72 of The Moonstone Major
“Honestly, I am not a child. I can be trusted on my own. Unsupervised.” She grinned. “That is usually what ‘alone’ means.”
Blessed saints.“I’m glad I rode back. Come on, leave everything as it is.”
“But the documents—”
“Can wait until tomorrow. They’ve been hidden for years. Another day or two won’t make a difference.” The dining room windows rattled as a violent gust suddenly struck the panes. He hurriedly secured the shutters, then he and Chloe made quick work of securing the others throughout the house.
“There isn’t time to lose,” he said when they returned downstairs after closing up the last of the bedchambers. “You’ll ride with me on Sophocles. It’s the fastest way to get you home.”
“What about the beach? I can walk—”
“Are you mad? You’ll be washed out to sea. The cove must be flooded by now, every last grain of sand underwater and the waves ten foot in height. Come on, do not sit down or think to pick up your parchment and pencil.”
“Where will you go after you drop me at home?”
“Probably back to the fort now that I know the cottage is secured. I trust my officers to handle any mishaps, but I ought to be on hand as commanding officer. However, I may run out of time and simply have to ride back here.”
He took her by the hand to lead her out of the cottage, his strides long so that she had to take two of her own to keep up with his one. He then lifted her onto Sophocles, and had just mounted behind her when the skies opened up without warning. Not even a few drops or a light, steady rain to signal the start of the storm.
He could hardly breathe for the water suddenly pouring down on them and knew Chloe had to be struggling, too.
This was no mild summer rain but a deluge of biblical proportions. It was as though someone stood above them unrelentingly tossing tubs of water down on their heads.
The sky was now black as night. The wind was howling with gale force. Lightning flashed in the distance over the water, and then one bolt struck so close to them that Fionn could hear the ground sizzle.
Sophocles panicked.
“Bloody, bleeding hell.” Fionn turned the frightened mount around, holding tight to Chloe as the beast began to rear and buck.
It took all of Fionn’s strength to keep him under control long enough to get him back into the stable. “Well, that’s it. You and I are trapped here for the duration. This storm is going to be really bad.” He dismounted and helped Chloe down, then unsaddled the beast. “Sophocles is trained for battle,” he said, easing the skittish stallion into his stall. “If he is scared out of his wits, then there is reason to be worried.”
While Chloe stroked and soothed his horse, Fionn took a quick moment to climb up to the loft and secure its sturdy doors.
“Should we just stay in here with Sophocles?” she asked when he hopped down from the ladder.
“No, back to the house. I’m sorry, Chloe. All I’ve accomplished is getting us soaked.” Perhaps he should have stayed in town, but then she would have been left to fend for herself. The girl did not know how to boil water or light a fire or cook a meal. She did not even know how to warm a meal that was already cooked and left in a pot. How could she have survived the night alone here? Worse, what if she had decided to make her way home on her own and taken the shortcut from the beach?
No, he’d done the right thing in coming to her, even though they were now trapped for the duration of the storm.
Unfortunately, there was no question word would get out and her reputation left in ruins. There was no help for it—he would have to marry her. Not that it mattered to him. He wanted to marry her, ached to have her as his wife. But this would force his hand and make him come to terms with the one thing that had held him back from courting her in the first place, his bringing nothing to the marriage.
Since neither the duke nor the marquess objected to him as a suitor, he knew it was only his stubborn pride standing in the way. The Fates seemed to have lost patience with him, just as Chloe had, and they were now making the decision for him.
There was not a chance of keeping their time together in Moonstone Cottage quiet. The town gossip, Mr. Matchett, was going to make certain the whole town knew.
“Take my hand, Chloe. We’re going to make a run for the house.” He peered into the courtyard and noticed it was already flooding. “Blast, wait.”
He had heard enough about the sudden squall that led to the death of the cottage’s ghost to know how fierce and dangerous this one hanging over them had to be.
He removed his jacket and handed it to her. “Hold it over your head.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” He wrapped an arm around Chloe and tried to shelter her as much as possible as they raced back into the house.
The wind blew the door out of his grasp and slammed it wide open the moment he released the latch. He pushed it shut as soon as he and Chloe made it safely inside. But a blast of wind had howled through the house while the door was open and now sent all her neatly sorted papers flying off the table.
Dozens floated about the dining room.
