Meredith looked out of the carriage. Her village was just ahead, over the small hill. She knew this land like she knew the back of her hand. From the moment they had entered the land within 20 miles of her home, she knew her trip would be over very soon. The adventure she had chosen had not ended the way she had planned. She was not coming home the bride of Darrin Cortland. Instead she was being returned to her home a shamed woman. She could only imagine the looks from the villagers. She was scared and felt little tiny butterflies roaming around her stomach. Mainly, she was worried about her father's reaction to seeing her home, unwed and shamed. But she had nowhere else to run and no money to survive on her own. So today she would take whatever she deserved. If her father threw her out, she knew it would only be fitting. After all, she had left without his blessing.
The carriage pulled up to her house, which was beside the mill her father ran so efficiently. They came to a halt as the door to the mill opened and her father came out to see who had arrived. It was obvious by his expression, he was not expecting a carriage but a villager with a load of grain to unload.
Michael promptly unlit from his horse and walked to shake the miller's hand. He could tell this was Meredith's father, because the resemblance was uncanny. Michael held out his hand and introduced himself.
"Sir, I am Michael Warren. Darrin Cortland has sent me to you to return your daughter, Miss Meredith, safely home. She is inside the carriage with her lady's maid, Anne. You are Mr. Chaney, aren't you?"
Mr. Chaney, who had been eyeing the carriage and the young gentleman with suspicion, shook his head and answered, "Yes, I am Mr. Chaney. My daughter is in the carriage, you say? Please tell her I will see her once she has finished unloading her things. Thank you, Sir, for returning her. Good day to you." And he turned and walked quickly into the mill.
Michael, who was not sure what to think, stood watching the door as it slammed shut behind the miller. After a moment, when it was obvious the man would not be returning, he decided to go help Meredith and Annie from the carriage. If only he knew what her father was thinking. Unfortunately, it didn't bode well for the daughter.
Opening the door of the carriage, Michael could see that Meredith's face was very pale. He smiled softly, hoping he could lend her a little strength, but he knew that would not be enough for her in the coming minutes. Maybe not enough for the coming days.
Meredith thanked Michael for his help as she left the carriage. Once on the ground, though, she began to feel light headed. The worry she had been feeling was nothing compared to the blow she felt as she watched her father stalk back into the mill. He was angry, and she had seen him angry before, but this was nothing like any anger he had ever displayed before. Her father was known for his ability to listen without jumping to conclusions. He was the voice of reason when others became upset. But today, he was the one who did not appear level headed. And Meredith knew she deserved his derision.
The carriage pulled up to her house, which was beside the mill her father ran so efficiently. They came to a halt as the door to the mill opened and her father came out to see who had arrived. It was obvious by his expression, he was not expecting a carriage but a villager with a load of grain to unload.
Michael promptly unlit from his horse and walked to shake the miller's hand. He could tell this was Meredith's father, because the resemblance was uncanny. Michael held out his hand and introduced himself.
"Sir, I am Michael Warren. Darrin Cortland has sent me to you to return your daughter, Miss Meredith, safely home. She is inside the carriage with her lady's maid, Anne. You are Mr. Chaney, aren't you?"
Mr. Chaney, who had been eyeing the carriage and the young gentleman with suspicion, shook his head and answered, "Yes, I am Mr. Chaney. My daughter is in the carriage, you say? Please tell her I will see her once she has finished unloading her things. Thank you, Sir, for returning her. Good day to you." And he turned and walked quickly into the mill.
Michael, who was not sure what to think, stood watching the door as it slammed shut behind the miller. After a moment, when it was obvious the man would not be returning, he decided to go help Meredith and Annie from the carriage. If only he knew what her father was thinking. Unfortunately, it didn't bode well for the daughter.
Opening the door of the carriage, Michael could see that Meredith's face was very pale. He smiled softly, hoping he could lend her a little strength, but he knew that would not be enough for her in the coming minutes. Maybe not enough for the coming days.
Meredith thanked Michael for his help as she left the carriage. Once on the ground, though, she began to feel light headed. The worry she had been feeling was nothing compared to the blow she felt as she watched her father stalk back into the mill. He was angry, and she had seen him angry before, but this was nothing like any anger he had ever displayed before. Her father was known for his ability to listen without jumping to conclusions. He was the voice of reason when others became upset. But today, he was the one who did not appear level headed. And Meredith knew she deserved his derision.
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