by Jane Charles
As he spoke the words, a gust of wind came from the east and Hannah had to place her hand on the top of her head to keep her bonnet from flying off. She then quickly tightened the ribbons beneath her chin and turned around. Dark clouds blanked much of the sky. Goodness, they’d moved in quicker than she’d anticipated.
“Perhaps you should head back,” Wingate offered. “Before you are caught in the storm.”
Oh, she’d just come across Wingate and didn’t wish to rush home. Besides, how bad could a little storm be? She’d been caught in downpours at home before and survived well enough.
Unless, she could convince Wingate to return to Sam’s with her, since it wasn’t so very far and then the two of them could visit within the safety of the plantation.
She was just about to make the suggestion when the wind picked up even further, nearly bending the tops of trees. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be a simple downpour as she had assumed. At home, she could always gauge…well almost, how long she had to find shelter from the elements. She’d clearly misjudged today.
“Come on.” Wingate gently grasped her elbow. “I don’t believe you’ll make it back to your brother’s before becoming drenched.”
Hannah allowed him to lead her inside the house and was taken aback by the ruin just as the fetid air assaulted her nose and Hannah let out a string of sneezes. Goodness, it reminded her of venturing into the attics at home. There it was dust that usually irritated her, here it was a malodorous smell.
Wingate withdraw a handkerchief and handed it to her for which she nodded her thanks.
“I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Where are you going?” she asked in alarm.
“To put your horse in the stables.” He was gone before she could offer to help, and Hannah went to the window to watch until he was out of sight. She then turned to take in the parlor and understood immediately why Wingate wished to sell instead of putting the place to rights. Not only did his land need to be replanted, but the interior was in near ruin as well.
“Goodness, this place is a disaster.” Yet, upon closer inspection all was not lost. A good scrubbing, fresh paint and new furnishings were really all that was needed. Then again, this was one parlor and if the same work needed to be done in every room of the house, the task could be quite daunting.
Hannah jumped when the front door flew open and banged against the wall and she rushed to close it. The wind was quite fierce now with trees bending nearly in half instead of just the tops. Overgrown bushes scraped against the house and small twigs flew through the air. It was becoming a bit frightening. Worse, Wingate was outside in this weather, unless he had decided to remain in the stable. Hannah would certainly consider the option instead of returning to the house.
Quickly the day darkened into nearly night and she went in search of a lamp while she could still see. The lamps in the parlor were broken, so she hurried down the corridor and came to what appeared to be a library. The windows in this room were also broken and the furniture destroyed. However, the lamp at the corner of the table was still intact and she rushed forward and managed to get it lit. She then made her way back down the corridor and into the front parlor to watch for Wingate, praying he didn’t leave her in this house alone. However, she didn’t wish for him to be harmed by flying limbs in an attempt to return from the stables either.
As a tree fell, Wingate came running from the side of the house. Hannah ran to open the door for him and then closed it as he finally gained the entry. His blond hair was wet and plastered to his skull and water dripped from his clothing.
“Are you all right?”
“I am now,” he assured her. “The horses are skittish, but I have them secured so we won’t need to worry about them running off.” He glanced at the lamp. “I’m not certain that is going to be enough light, but there are plenty of candles in a cupboard.” At his words, he turned past the stairs and entered the dining room before going through another door, which lead to a small room, not much larger than an alcove lined with cabinets and cupboards. In the center sat a narrow table and two wooden chairs. Here he opened a cupboard and drew out candles and then lit a few of them before he located towels to dry his hair. Once that had been taken care of, he removed his drenched suitcoat and dropped it onto the table before he glanced out the small window over a counter. “Well, Lady Hannah, it appears we are quite stuck here for the duration of the storm.”
“Is it safe?” The storm seemed to have grown fiercer.
“As safe as anywhere, I suppose. The house is made of stone and we don’t need to worry about it coming down around our ears, though we should remain away from windows. They are already damaged and the slightest twig hitting them could shatter any glass that still remains.”
Hannah gulped. “Upstairs?” Was there a safe place within the house? All plantation homes had several windows and were designed to allow breezes throughout the house on hot days.
“There are just as many windows up there.” He retrieved a tablecloth from inside a cupboard then took her hand as he led her back into the corridor. “As I have no experience with situations such as this, I propose we become comfortable here.” He stopped inside a long corridor and spread out the cloth beneath the curved stairs leading to the floor above. “It isn’t grand, or even comfortable, but at least we’ll be safe from any rain or debris that might fly through the windows.”
As long as Wingate didn’t leave her again, Hannah didn’t care where they waited and set the lamp on a small table before finding a seat upon the tablecloth.
“When Roxburg assured me that a tropical storm wasn’t anything like the tame storms experienced in England, I didn’t imagine this.” Wingate settled beside her and leaned against the wall.
Hannah wouldn’t call all the storms she’d experienced at home as tame, but they certainly weren’t as violent as what was occurring outside. “How long will it last?” Hannah wished she had questioned Sam further when he suggested she not be gone long.
“From a few hours to a couple of days,” Wingate answered.
“Days?” Sam and Nate would kill her if she failed to come home within a reasonable time. They were probably already overset with worry and she dearly hoped they weren’t out in the elements looking for her.
“I’m certain the storm won’t continue for so long.”
How could he even know?
“At least I hope it doesn’t as I’ve no supplies.”
Water and food would become a concern if they were stuck here for long. “When is the last time anyone lived here?” Perhaps there was something about that would help sustain them.
“Not since the revolt.”
Even if foodstuffs were left behind, they were long ruined after a year and a half.
“One moment.” Wingate rose again and disappeared into what she determined was the library. As he did, more glass splintered in the front parlor and something heavy struck against the front door.
Storms had never scared her before, but this was an entirely new circumstance.
A short time later, Wingate returned carrying a bottle and two glasses. “Rum is all we have.”
Chapter 6
Ashton knew without a doubt that if they were required to be here, alone, for any length of time, Lady Hannah’s brothers would press for a betrothal, not that Ashton could blame them. If this were England and similar circumstances, he knew what would be expected of him and as the Storm twins were English gentlemen, they’d have the right to make the demands.
When Ashton had first spotted Lady Hannah walking in Hyde Park with her oldest brother, he’d been struck by her beauty from the delicate features, golden hair and mischievous green eyes. She’d been laughing with her sisters, which had made him smile in return. He was already acquainted with her oldest brother, the Earl of Kenley, but Ashton learned what he could of the rest of the family. He had been quite pleased to learn that Lady Hannah had been a miss of three and twenty. While most gentlemen might consider her near t
he shelf, Ashton found her age all the more appealing and wondered how it was possible that he’d not met her before.
Two days later, he saw Lady Hannah at a ball and was able to secure a waltz. She’d fit in his arms perfectly and matched his steps with ease. He’d then caught a glimpse of her at Lady Heathfield’s al fresco, but before he could approach, Lady Hannah disappeared, along with her mother and sisters, shortly after the Duke of Danby arrived. It was nearly a sennight before Ashton had seen Lady Hannah again and that had been at the picnic held by Mr. David Thorn where Ashton had been given the opportunity to partner her in a scavenger hunt. There she proved to be quick witted as well as an enjoyable companion and it might have been the only time that he’d not been anxious for a societal even to end.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to see her again, but each time he had called, Lady Hannah had not been at home and then when he saw her again, her mother hadn’t allowed a dance. However, there had been a number of other encounters in Hyde Park, at the theatre, shopping along Bond Street, and various other venues. Unfortunately, such chance meetings had allowed them only a few precious moments of discussion. In fact, the only near in-depth conversation the two had enjoyed, outside of the scavenger hunt, was when he’d come upon her at Hatchards, where they had learned they both shared a liking for novels authored by Walter Scott and were both there to purchase a copy of Old Mortality.
Yes, Ashton had been intrigued with Lady Hannah at first sight and he was happy she was visiting Barbados. However, he was not in a financial position to court, let alone marry, yet if this storm didn’t end soon, he may be given little choice.
“I believe this may be the first circumstance that I prefer England to Barbados,” Lady Hannah offered with a tight smile.
It was a fierce storm, but Ashton didn’t feel that they were in any danger. “Think of it as an adventure. A new experience,” he offered.
She blew out a sigh and looked at him. “I suppose you are correct.”
Something banged against the door again and she nearly jumped.
“There is nothing to be frightened of.” He took her shaky hands in his. “I promise. We are safe,” he reiterated and then reached for the rum and glasses. Though it wasn’t a liquor one should serve a lady, Ashton hoped that it would calm her nerves.
He only poured a splash of the liquid into the glass and handed it to Hannah who took a tentative sip. Her nose wrinkled as if she wasn’t quite pleased with the taste, but then she took another drink.
At that, Ashton poured a glass for himself. It was impossible to know how long they would be here, so he vowed to be careful in how much they drank. It was bad enough that they were here alone. Her brothers would be doubly displeased if Lady Hannah arrived home deep in her cups.
Oh, she wished she could enjoy this time with Lord Wingate. It was all she’d ever wanted but Hannah could think of nothing of interest to say. Her nerves were on edge and every time something banged or glass broke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
The drink he offered helped somewhat or maybe it was simply because it gave her something to do. At first the liquid was unpleasant, but soon warmed her throat and belly. The second taste was not so bad, though her tongue felt a bit numb. Did all spirits numb the tongue?
“What is this?”
“Rum.”
Her brothers drank rum, though in honesty, she’d never heard of it before arriving in Barbados. Of course, she wouldn’t have since ladies shouldn’t partake in such liquors.
“You are terrified, aren’t you?”
She glanced up into his warm blue eyes and noted the bit of humor. Was he making fun of her?
Hannah sniffed and tilted her nose. “I am not,” she lied.
“Yes, you are,” he teased then scooted closer to her. “It is fine that you are.”
“Yet that is no reason to tease me,” Hannah argued.
“Forgive me. That was not my intention.”
“It was not?” she challenged with a lift of her eyebrow.
“No, it’s simply the first time I’ve witnessed you as such. In all our previous encounters, you were full of confidence, as well as witty and charming. This is a new side and I find it quite delightful.”
“Well, I do not.” She sniffed again. “I feel like a ninny being frightened over a silly storm.”
“I don’t believe there is anything silly about this storm. It’s as if Zeus has directed this wrath upon us.”
“By the way the waves were crashing, I wonder if Poseidon is in an argument with his brother.”
“As long as Hades doesn’t join in, we should survive,” Wingate laughed.
“It has gone on for a long time.” Hannah stood and made her way to the front parlor to glance out the windows once again. “Goodness.” The storm had gotten much worse since the last time she’d looked. She hadn’t thought it could get worse, and it was even more so frightening now. Not only was rain pelting the house and ground, but it was falling sideways along with leaves, twigs and some branches. Some of the trees were bending in the strong wind and the only reason she could determine for them remaining in place was likely a deep and sturdy root system.
And, just as those thoughts crossed her mind, she watched as a tree pulled from the ground and fell across the drive. She stepped further away from the window. If this storm could uproot a large, older tree, what could it do to this house?
Wingate came to stand beside her and rested a hand at the small of her back. That small gesture brought a wave of comfort and it was all she could do not to lean back into him.
“We are safe, Hannah.”
His voice was calm and low, a warm breath against her ear, and her anxiety began to melt away.
“I do hope my brothers aren’t out looking for me.”
“They were aware that you left…decided to go for a ride?” Wingate questioned.
“Yes. Sam knew I was to return a book to Mrs. Hildegard. The plantation is a little further down the road.”
“Then I’m certain Storm has assumed that you took shelter and are not stuck out in the elements.”
Once again some of her concern disappeared. Had she not detoured to Wingate’s Plantation, she would have made it safely to the Hildegards, which Sam must also assume. At least she hoped he did and wasn’t worried for her safety.
“This constant worry about your brother will gain you nothing as you can’t exactly go in search of him.”
Of that, Wingate was correct. Though saying one shouldn’t worry didn’t exactly mean concerns vanished. A rational mind didn’t always relieve an anxious heart, though there were several times Hannah wished it would, such as now.
Chapter 7
Ashton tried to think of something to say once they returned to safety beneath the stairs. They were in a perfect setting, without interruption and they could be conversing on any number of topics. Instead, Lady Hannah’s hands trembled, and she kept glancing toward the front of the house as if she were waiting for it to be swept up in the storm. His first instinct was to pull Hannah into his arms, to offer comfort and shelter, but warnings of impropriety and deeply ingrained self-preservation kept Ashton from offering comfort to the vulnerable miss.
She was far too tempting, and Ashton knew that if he held her, then he’d kiss her. He had no right to do any of those things. She was frightened and vulnerable and a gentleman did not take advantage in such situations.
Further, he was not courting her. He could not court her and if he kissed her, well, it would simply be unfair because then she’d expect him to call on her in a more official capacity and possibly anticipate more than he could offer at this time.
Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He did want to hold her. He did want to kiss her. He did want to court her. Further, he desired and wanted Hannah, and that was the very reason why he must keep his distance. Already they were in a precarious position that might lead to a more permanent future and if he weren’t so bloody poor, Ashton woul
d throw caution to the wind. However, as he did not know what the spring might bring, he’d not do anything that would remove any choice for either of them because he was determined, when and if he married, his wife would have the same luxuries to which she had become accustomed. Ashton wasn’t certain he could afford to keep his household staff, let alone allow his wife to have a personal maid.
Bloody hell! Why had his father led them to ruin? Had he not cared about the future of his children and what they may have to endure after he’d gone? Had he thought he could make it right somehow when every single decision seemed to lead him further into debt? How had he even managed as far as he did without creditors beating down the door?
It did no good to sit here and curse his father since it only made Ashton tense and angry. Further, Lady Hannah deserved better and even if she could not be his, he’d at least try to relieve some of her fear and calm her.
“What book were you returning?” he blurted out.
She glanced over and blinked. “Book?”
“Yes. You said you were returning a book to Mrs. Hildegard.” They did enjoy the same literature and perhaps it was one he’d read so that they could discuss it, thus taking Lady Hannah’s mind off the storm.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Her attention returned to the storm.
“Hadn’t you read it?”
“No. Jillian had borrowed it.” Hannah jumped at the splintering of glass. “I was simply returning it as I had wanted to take a ride.” She was answering as if she were distracted, which she was, but Ashton wanted her focus on him.
“Do you ride daily?” he asked
“I have since I arrived.” Lady Hannah folded her arms across her body and rubbed her upper arms. Ashton knew it wasn’t from cold, but from fear.
“Do you ride as often at home.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “It’s the only way to avoid mother for a few hours.” She stiffened and turned toward him; eyes wide with shock. “I cannot believe I said such a thing.”