The Bride Price

Chapter Four

The day after they left London, it began to rain.

The inclement weather followed them all the way to Exeter, when—exhausted and sore from traveling wet roads rutted with mud—Emily stepped down from the carriage, pushed back the brim of her bonnet and was gifted with a sliver of blue sky and a shock of sunlight that nearly blinded her with its brilliance. An hour later, the clouds had sealed themselves back up and a torrential downpour, accompanied by a rumble of thunder, unleashed itself on their heads.

They passed through Camelford just after nightfall, and then it was only another mile of uneven road before the carriage jostled to a halt outside a short, iron gate.

Sir Collicott woke with a start and peered out the window through eyes narrowed with drowsiness. "S'where are we?"

Emily said nothing as she picked up her reticule and departed from the carriage, leaving her father to yawn and stumble down onto the stone walkway behind her.

By the time she entered their house, she was drenched from head to toe. The small foyer was lit with only one candle, a stub that appeared likely to sputter out at any moment. Without waiting for the appearance of Harriet, their maid, she tore off her sodden bonnet, tugged at the fastenings of her pelisse, and slung both items over the back of a chair.

Her father walked in a moment later, his boots leaving a trail of muddy tracks on the floor. He immediately called for Harriet, and proceeded to remove his hat and coat as if he were completely unperturbed by the amount of water dripping from his figure.

"Some sandwiches, I think," he told Harriet as she met them in the hall, her wiry figure moving with tremendous agility considering the amount of grey in her hair. "I'll have them in my study."

And with that, he was gone. Emily still stood in the foyer, her fingers grasping at a few pins that had slipped from her wet hair while Harriet snatched up all of the damp, discarded clothing from the floor.

"The girls are enjoying some hot rolls in the kitchen, if you care to join them, Miss."

Emily smiled and nodded her thanks. "I'll change into something dry, if you'll let them know I'm home."

"Oh, they know," Harriet said, her grey gaze meeting Emily's for a second before she returned her attention to the soggy bits of ribbon that trailed from Emily's bonnet. "They would've come crashing in here the moment you walked through the door, but I told them it was better if they stayed out of their father's way."

"Yes," Emily said, her voice low. "That was very good of you."

Ten minutes later, clad in a dry frock and with her hair brushed out and pinned into a simple bun at the nape of her neck, she went into the kitchen. Before she had even cleared the doorway, she was at once struck by the welcome warmth of a roaring fire and a dozen delicious aromas that set her mouth watering.

Her sisters were seated at a plain wooden table near the hearth. They both had their backs to her, and she saw that they had also both kicked off their shoes and were warming their stockinged feet in front of the flames.

Before she moved another inch, she realized that she had no idea how much her sisters knew of her predicament. Had any of the horrible London gossip been relayed to them? Were they even aware of why their father had rushed off so suddenly to retrieve their older sister from a debut season that had only just begun? And what of the marriage her father had arranged for her, to a man she had yet to meet or even discover his name?

She pushed all such anxious thoughts from her head and walked forward. Two steps was all it took, and then Katie turned around in her seat, her face alight with joy as soon as her gaze fell on her older sister.