Snowbound With The Baronet Read Online Free Page B

in Spain before a battle to keep up the morale of his men?
    The spark of hope Lady Cassandra had kindled burst into full flame a short while later when Brandon heard the distant bark of a dog over the howling wind. He squinted in the direction of the sound and glimpsed a faint, diffuse light through the thick curtain of blowing snow.
    “Lights!” he cried. “Call back to the others!”
    Imogene and Lady Cassandra were eager to oblige. Behind him, Brandon heard the echo of his words as they were passed down the column.
    “Come on, old fellow,” he urged the horse, tugging it toward the light and the barking dog, “only a little farther, then you will be able to rest somewhere warm and dry.”
    Whatever this place was, they would seek shelter for the night and he would pay handsomely for their hospitality. Tomorrow, after the storm passed, he would dispatch a blacksmith to repair his carriage. Then he and Imogene would continue on their journey while Lady Cassandra went her own way. With luck, he would not lay eyes on her again for a great many more years. Perhaps by then he might master the skill of being near her while remaining unaffected.
    The horse blew out its breath in what sounded like a sigh of relief. Its steps hastened as if it understood that it would soon be able to rest and eat.
    The dog continued to bark, for which Brandon blessed it. The nearer they drew to the sound, the better he could make out the light thrown by candles in the windows of a house. Though it was difficult to judge the size of the place in the gathering darkness, through the blur of snow, he sensed it was not large. It must be a farmhouse or laborer’s cottage. As long as the place had a roof, four walls and a hearth, it would suffice for the night.
    Just then another light appeared, bobbing toward them in the darkness. Brandon heard a deep voice boom out. “Hush, Podger! Go lay down you daft whelp, before you wake the dead.”
    “Hullo?” Brandon called when the dog quieted as its master bid. “I beg your pardon for the disturbance.”
    “Don’t bother about that,” replied a well-muffled man, who approached them bearing a lantern. “I reckon you didn’t have much choice. Caught on the road by the storm, were you?”
    “We were, indeed.” Brandon continued moving toward the man, for he feared it might be impossible to budge the horse again if they stopped. “If it would not be too great an imposition, might our party seek shelter here for the night? We shall be happy to pay you for your trouble.”
    “Don’t bother about that either.” The man beckoned them forward with a wide sweep of his arm. “Never let it be said Tobias Martin turned away folk who needed his hospitality. How many in your party?”
    Brandon did a quick mental count.
    “Eight,” he replied in an apologetic tone, “and six horses. If that is more than you can accommodate perhaps you would be kind enough to tell us how far it is to the next village.”
    “More than half a mile to Cherhill,” Mr. Martin replied. “Not but a step in fair weather. Heaven knows how long it would take on a night like this. I hardly trust myself not to go astray betwixt my house and barn. It’ll be a squeeze, I reckon, but you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need.”
    “We shall be very much obliged to you, Mr. Martin.” Brandon could tell he would like this bluff, honest countryman who had offered them hospitality without even knowing their names. “I hope we shall not have to impose upon you more than one night.”
    By now they had reached the barn. The warm, pungent smells of hay and livestock were perfume to Brandon’s nose after the freezing, scentless trek through the storm.
    He brought the horse to a halt then trudged back and raised his arms to his cousin. “Down you get, Imogene. Aren’t you glad you came with us now?”
    “That remains to be seen.” She pried her arms from around Lady Cassandra and let Brandon lift her down.
    Her earlier