Snowflakes and Scandals

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gwen startled awake when Reggie grew restless in his basket, setting it rocking violently on her lap. With a gasp she sat up, clutching the basket to keep it from falling. Blinking away sleep, she peered out the window, uneasy at how thickly the snow was falling now. She must have made a sound of dismay, for the captain spoke.

“It’s got worse in the last half hour. Until then we were making good time.”

Gwen stifled a yawn, giving her head a brisk shake. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. “Shall we be able to make it to Blackthorpe, do you think?”

He sighed as he stretched his booted feet forward. “I hope so.”

Gwen nodded and turned back to the window. She must have dozed for quite some time, as the sky was growing dark.

“I must apologize for how I spoke earlier,” said the man beside her. “I didn’t mean to be harsh.”

“Oh, no,” she murmured. “I don’t see how anyone can speak of war without being harsh.”

He gave his faint smile. “Laments about the food and weather, mainly. It’s been awhile since I had the pleasure of speaking with a lady, rather than other soldiers.”

She smiled back. “And it’s been awhile since I had the pleasure of speaking with another adult, instead of children.”

He shifted his weight and looked puzzled. “How many children do you have?”

Gwen flushed. “Oh! None of my own. I’m a governess— was a governess,” she corrected.

If he noted her awkwardness, he didn’t react to it. “An admirable profession! Nearly as harrowing as the army, I’d wager.”

Gwen couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Nonsense! That is—I’ve never been in the army, but I adore children. There is something so wonderful about seeing the delight in their faces when they finally understand geometry, or realize they can have an entire conversation in French, or have produced a truly good drawing. There is nothing in the world as excited as a child who has mastered something new, and no greater source of pride, to those around them. I’ve been fortunate, I suppose, in having bright, curious children in my charge. My current family—” She stopped. The Bradfords were not her current family any longer. “My recent family,” she said carefully, “had two boys and three girls, very good children. I shall miss them all.”

Though not their parents, she thought, but did not say.

“And now you’ve had enough of raising someone else’s children?”

Gwen smiled wryly. “The children were the best part of the bargain. I…” She paused, her throat thickening. “I asked for leave to visit my grandmother and got the sack instead.” She refused to cry again. Not only was it useless and maudlin, there was no reason to, now; she was on her way and would be with Gran soon, thanks to the captain. “On the bright side, I can now spend all of Christmas with Gran and not have to hurry back.”

“An important benefit that must not be overlooked,” he agreed. Gwen was grateful he followed her lead in not dwelling on the part about getting sacked, even though she thought she’d seen his eyes flash at the word. Like him, she preferred to keep their conversation more cheerful and less harsh. “Have you traveled far already?”

“From Salisbury.”

“Salisbury! That’s at least two days’ journey.”

Hence her penniless state. Gwen nodded. “Exactly so. A very long, trying two days.”

He nodded. “It’s a very long, trying way from Salisbury.”

She was startled into a laugh. “A very long way! When you’ve come from Spain, and a war, and endured many dangers along the way here. Salisbury doesn’t seem so far, in comparison.”

“Ah, but I was alone, and responsible only for myself.” He tipped his head toward the basket, which was still rocking back and forth as Reginald circled restlessly.

“I stole him,” she blurted out, and then clapped a hand over her mouth, to no avail. She began to laugh, and when the captain joined in, she couldn’t stop. “He was in my employer’s stable,” she finally calmed down enough to explain. “There were rather a lot of cats, and the head groom was threatening to drown some of them because they were frightening the horses. This one is very friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought that they might grab him to drown, because he would be easy to catch, so I took him with me.”

“They owed you,” he said firmly. “Giving someone the sack, right before Christmas!”

“Without paying my last quarter’s wages, either.” She tipped up the lid and slipped one hand into the basket, and Reggie promptly butted his head against her fingers, purring loudly as she scratched around his ears. “Reggie was fair compensation, though.”

“Reggie?”

She blushed. “Sir Reginald Arthur Louis, Lord High Mouser.”

The captain’s brows went up. “I’d no idea I was inviting such grand company to share this chariot.”

Reggie seemed to take that as invitation. He leapt up and out of the basket, landing on the captain’s knee, causing a startled exclamation from the man. Gwen gasped and got tangled up in the blanket as she tried to grab her cat. Reggie dodged, jumping to the front apron of the carriage, where he must have caught a blast of cold air. His ears flattened on his head, and he jumped down and tried to find his way under the blanket around Gwen’s feet. When that didn’t work, he wound around the captain’s boots, yowling loudly.

“I’m so sorry, Reggie, stop that, come here, you wretched creature!” Gwen gabbled, trying to pursue the cat while still hampered by the carriage blanket and the basket plus its lid, which was now bouncing around the chariot. She banged her elbow on the door and exclaimed aloud as she almost fell off her seat, lunging after the cat.

“Hold!” the captain barked. Gwen froze at the command. He snared the basket in one hand and the lid in the other. He thrust the basket toward Reggie, who leapt into it at once. The captain slapped the lid on and held the whole toward Gwen.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, her heart still racing. “Naughty cat!” she whispered as she hugged the basket close.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, then gingerly tilted up the basket lid. Curled into a tight ball inside, Reggie peered up at her, his eyes almost black, but then he opened his mouth and gave a wide yawn.

“That answers my next question,” said Captain Fitzhugh dryly. “Mind your manners, Lord Mouser.”

Gwen gave a shaky laugh as she closed the basket and buckled the strap across the lid. “He’s been very patient until now! He didn’t ask to be trapped in a basket for two straight days. If someone tried it on me, I would likely scratch them every chance I got.”

“Perhaps he was desperately waiting for a chance at escape. Perhaps the cats overheard the head groom threatening their lives and were in a panic how to save themselves. When you came calling with your basket, this fellow seized his opportunity to flee.”

Gwen pondered it. “That’s rather a lot of thinking and planning, for a cat.”

“They’ve got to be clever creatures, haven’t they, to survive? If I were a cat, living in a stable where I might be trod on by a horse at any moment, I would absolutely leap at the chance of running away in a nice warm basket with a kind young lady like you.”

She gave him a wry look. “He did not leap at it. I had to lure him into the basket with scraps of bacon.”

He got a knowing expression. “No wonder he leapt right in. Bacon is the way to any fellow’s heart.”

Gwen laughed. “Then he must be feeling very hard done by, for I haven’t had any food at all for him since this morning.”

“He doesn’t appear to be weak from starvation.”

“But I carried him away without even asking if he wished to come, and it’s surely my duty to take care of him in compensation.” Impulsively she touched the captain’s sleeve. “Thank you for allowing me to bring him along.”

Captain Fitzhugh’s arm tensed. His grin disappeared and he turned away from her to peer out the window. “You may wish to reserve your thanks,” he said. “I do believe we’re stopping.”