Read Christmas By Candlelight: Two Regency Holiday Novellas for Free Online

noted that on paper, closer scrutiny of the individuals involved did not always magnify their foibles.

    * * *
    T he sound was deceptively mild , a soft flutter, something akin to the beating of a moth’s wings against the glass windowpanes. Nicholas pulled back the drapery only to find the view was of naught but vague shapes obscured by swirling snow. A gust of wind rattled the door.
    “It looks to be getting worse,” he said.
    Anna yawned and stretched her legs. “I wonder how much farther we have to go. It feels as if we have been travelling for hours.”
    “I fear the miles have not rolled by as quickly as the minutes. If we—”
    A cracking lurch cut off his words and sent Nicholas skidding across the smooth leather. As the sound of splintering wood exploded in his ears, the coach rocked back, flinging him up into the air where he hovered for an instant before landing in Anna’s lap.
    “Hell’s Bells!” His curse echoed the cacophony of confusion outside. As he struggled to untangle his limbs from the twist of blankets and clothing, the wind whipped pellets of ice against the windows and the horses set up another chorus of frightened whinnies. From his box, the coachman cried for help.
    To her credit, Anna did not panic. She wriggled out from under him and set to freeing his boot from her knotted skirts.
    Brave girl , he noted, though aloud he snapped only a brusque “Stay here” as he dove for the door and wrenched it open. Fighting his way through the driving snow, Nicholas caught the driver as he fell from his icy perch.
    “T-T-Tree fell across the way.” Blue with cold, the man’s lips were having difficulty forming distinct words. “M-Managed to steer the team clear b-but I fear the w-wheel. . .”
    Nicholas saw that the wheel was trapped by the broken branches of a large spruce. He took hold of one of the shattered stumps, but abandoned the effort after several heaves proved there was no way he was going to dislodge it on his own.
    “If we back the coach up,” he yelled above the howl of the storm, “I think we can manage to pull the wreckage free.”
    “Aye, sir.” The coachman made a game try at returning to his seat, but his awkward fumblings quickly made it clear that his wrist had been injured in the accident.
    “I had better take charge,” said Nicolas. “It will take two good hands to control the team.”
    The man winced. “Aye, but it will also take at least that to clear the branches.”
    Nicholas took a moment to assess the options—which, he decided, were extremely limited. “We will have to make a try at it. There is no other choice—”
    “Actually there is, sir.” Anna materialized out of the wind-whipped flakes, a muffler wound up to the tip of her nose, its ends tied over her hat to snug it in place. “Let me handle the ribbons, while you help John.”
    “Too dangerous,” he replied gruffly. “Go back inside.”
    “ Balvan ! I have a great deal of experience in driving a coach in these conditions.”
    “Did you just call me a horse’s arse in Russian?” he demanded, stifling the urge to laugh.
    “Yes—but if you wish to ring another peal over my head for hoydenish behavior, I suggest you do it later,” shot back Anna.
    “She is a dab hand on the box, sir,” volunteered the coachman. “I can attest to her skill.”
    As a frigid gust nearly swept him off his feet, Nicholas gave a grim nod. “Very well. We won’t stand on ceremony.” After directing the two others to take up their places, he maneuvered the skittish animals into position to straighten the coach. “Ready?”
    Anna tightened her grip on the reins.
    “NOW!”
    After a few slippery moments, the horses responded to the tugs and shouts, their hooves digging into the fast-drifting snow. The coach inched back, slowly but surely, until they were able to extricate the trapped wheel. Though several spokes were cracked and the rim bent, it looked as if it would hold up for a few more miles.
    The same