1: Through the Forest

He sees her huddled near the side of the road, the hood of her tattered brown cloak pulled tightly around her wrinkled face.

She rises to her feet as he nears on horseback, her tiny frame hunched over, a crooked wooden cane clutched in her weathered hand.

"Won't you buy a rose, my lord?" She asks, her voice a low cackle that crawls over his skin.

He glares down into her white eyes, the eyes of a blind woman, and the stench of sickness reaches his nose. Her hood falls back from her face, revealing her blistered lips and her ashen skin, marred with the spots of disease.

"Get away from me, peasant." He shouts, disgusted.

She bends one crooked arm and reaches into her basket, pulling out a long stemmed rose, the bud shriveled and black, the petals dry and brittle.

"Please, my lord," she begs, her eyes brimming with tears. "I am but a poor and hungry old woman, with no home or family to speak of."

She lifts the rose towards him, ambling closer, when suddenly she trips and stumbles into the side of his horse, regaining her balance by gripping his shiny black boot.

He pulls his foot from the stirrup and kicks her away, angry that she put her filthy hands on his new boots. She stumbles to the ground with a weak cry, her basket of dead roses scattering across the ground.

"Get out of here, you disgusting creature. You are on my land, and I will set the dogs on you," He sneers, turning his nose up at her.

She cackles, a low wicked sound that grows more crazed as she gets to her feet. She brushes the dirt and dead leaves from her cloak, shaking her head. She turns towards him, leaning on her cane as she laughs, tilting her head back to reveal her blackened teeth.

His horse rears as the sound grows louder, and he is thrown from the saddle and lands in the dirt at the old woman's feet.

He rises up to his knees furiously, just as the old woman reaches beneath her cloak and pulls out a sharpened wooden stake, slashing it down the side of his face as she continues to laugh madly. He falls onto his back, placing his hand on the bleeding cut that burns his skin.

Searing pain spreads across his face as blood runs between his fingers and over his lips, dripping onto his blue overcoat. He can feel the curse as it courses in his veins burning a path through his body, marking him with its evil. He cries out against the agony of it, willing the pain to stop.

"Please," he begs at the old woman's feet, turning onto his side as his muscles contract violently. "Forgive me, dear lady. I shall give you anything that you ask for."

The old woman stops laughing, her stark eyes looking straight ahead. "It is too late for that now, boy. I have marked you. You are cursed. Now everyone who looks upon you will know what a monster you are, Garrett Thorne. And when the moon rises, you will embody the evil that lives inside you, and all will know that you truly are a beast."

~~~

Ten Years Later…

Beth pulled the curtain back from the small window and stared out at the endless forest. The carriage bounced along at a slow pace, the road beneath them muddy due to the melting snow, making it impossible to move any faster. The sky was overcast, the crisp morning air seeping through Beth's gloves to her already numb fingers. She tugged her cloak tightly around her neck, shivering against the chill as she dropped the curtain.

Sitting back in her seat with a frustrated sigh, Beth shook her head, wishing that they could go faster. For days they had traveled in this same manner, the washed away road and constant snow making for a treacherous journey. Urgency knotted in her gut as they slowed even further, the carriage dipping sideways as it maneuvered along the forest path.

Beth rested her head against the inside of the carriage, hoping that the persistent movement would lull her into sleep. With eyes still closed, she frowned, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get any rest until the carriage pulled in front of Cossington Manor, and her future.

She opened her eyes with a sigh, needing to read the letter from Lady Cossington once more. Beth unfastened her small black reticule and pulled out the tattered letter, the creases worn and tearing from being constantly handled.

Beth skimmed the letter as she had dozens of times in the past several weeks, needing to assure herself that it wasn't just a dream. She still couldn't believe that she had acquired the position as governess to the three young Cossington children.

Though she was well educated and had served as governess to the Mayor's children in her small hometown, she had never taught the children of a lord and lady. Beth prided herself on having an understanding of several fields of study, including the sciences, yet self doubt loomed over her head. What if she couldn't do it? What if they found her severely under qualified? She didn't know what she would do then.

She couldn't possible go back to her little village, for there was nothing to go back to. With a heavy heart Beth recalled her father's sudden passing just eight months before, a loss that had been made worse when she had been informed of her father's heavy debts not long after her father had been laid to rest.

Beth shook her head as she recalled the cruelty of Edmund Leech.  She was certain that he had been the one who had bribed the magistrate, forging documents that indicated her father was in debt. Edmund had come to her the evening after her father's death, offering to help her with her misfortune if she agreed to marry him.

Remembering the stench of his breath when he had cornered her outside the tavern made her skin crawl even now. Her father had despised that man, just as she did, and so without hesitation she refused his advances, which he was none too pleased about.

Though Beth had tried for months to sell off what she could to pay off the phony debts, while at the same time working as a governess and washing clothes for a bit of extra money, she had no choice but to allow her home to be auctioned off. On the day of the auction, it was none other than Edmund himself who bought her home, renewing his offer to her once more. For the first time in her life, Beth let her anger get the better of her, and she had slapped him in the face, calling him all manner of names that she flushed to even think about now.

Yet it was not out of shame or embarrassment from her behavior that made her desperate to leave her hometown" it was the dark promise that Edmund had given her after she had finished attacking his character.

No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I will find you. He had vowed, his breath reeking of spirits. And when I do, you will beg for forgiveness.

Beth shuddered at the memory, clutching the letter from Lady Cosssington to her chest. She couldn't help but wonder if her father was watching over her, making certain that she would have a safe, happy, and secure future, far away from Edmund and his cruel musings. Everything had worked out so perfectly, falling into place within a matter of weeks after her home had been sold. She closed her eyes and sent a little prayer to her father, thanking him for watching over her as he always had, unable to stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. She dabbed at the stray tears with her gloved hand, a sense of calm washing over her.

Yet the carriage was moving along so slowly that Beth couldn't keep the frustration from building inside her. Though she wasn't expected at Cossington Manor for another three days, she was certain that they were making terrible time going along at such a slow pace. As irrational as it was, Beth feared that her certain future was fading away with every second that passed.

With a huff, Beth yanked back the curtain and stuck her head out the window, glancing up towards Mr. Leonard where he sat in his box seat, hunched forward with his hat pulled down over his ears and his great coat pulled up around his neck.

"Mr. Leonard?" Beth called, the icy air stinging her cheeks.

The old man glanced down at her, his bushy black eyebrows furrowed over his grey eyes.

"Get back inside Miss Townsend, it isn't safe for you to have your head sticking out of the window like that."

"Why are we going so slow, Mr. Leonard?" Beth asked, ignoring his concerned frown when she refused to go back inside. "At this rate we won't reach town until nightfall."

He glanced ahead at the road then back down at her, shaking his head. "This stretch of road has always been dangerous Miss Townsend, snowfall or not. This winter has been particularly bad, and the road has all but washed away."

Beth's heart sank when thunder echoed in the distance, lightning cutting a jagged path across the cloudy sky. Mr. Leonard glanced up, one gloved hand pushing the hat down on his head firmly while the other held fast to the reins.

"I don't like the look of that sky," he muttered to himself, snapping the reins. "Back inside now, Miss Townsend," he ordered over his shoulder. "And hold on. If we don't get out of these woods before the storm hits, we may be stranded."

Beth swallowed her anxiety then ducked back inside, yelping when she was thrown back into her seat as the coach leapt forward.

Her teeth crashed together as they rumbled over what was left of the road, and Beth gripped the edge of the narrow bench on which she was seated to keep the bouncing to a minimum. The sky thundered overhead, wind whistling in the small space as it seeped through a small rectangle of light between the leather curtains.

After several minutes of going along at a higher speed, still holding onto her seat for dear life, Beth wanted nothing more than to call out to Mr. Leonard and beg him to slow back down. She would rather have the storm slow their progress then continue to be thrown around inside the small space another minute.

The coach creaked to the right suddenly, but instead of righting itself it continued to tilt. Beth slid along the seat and was crushed against the inside wall of the coach, unable to move. She could hear Mr. Leonard shouting above, the horses' wild shrieks filling her ears.

That's when she heard the sound of wood splintering.

Beth screamed when the coach fell onto its side, throwing her against the inner wall, sparks of pain shooting through her shoulder. Her head slammed violently against the smooth wood, making her see stars.

Beth laid still for several moments after the chaos had stopped, her breathing coming in ragged little gasps, just as a dull ache began in both her shoulder and head.

Ignoring the pain as best she could, Beth tried to push herself up onto her knees, but her limbs felt weak and she trembled from the rush of fear. She didn't know if any movement she made would send the coach sliding down an embankment or over the side of a cliff. She had no idea what the situation beyond her little cocoon might be. All she knew was that she had to get out.

She glanced up at the door, feeling dizzy at the odd effect being in an overturned carriage had on her already rattled senses.

"Mr. Leonard!" She called, unable to hide the terror in her voice.

She looked up into the darkening sky, her heart pounding in her ears. She listened for Mr. Leonard's voice, hoping that she would see his face peering down at her from the window above at any moment.

She rose on trembling feet and took hold of the window frame, trying to pull herself up, needing desperately to escape the confined space, and wanting to seek out Mr. Leonard to assure herself that he was alright.

"I'm here, Miss Townsend." Mr. Leonard said, grabbing her around the wrists with a gentle squeeze. "Let go so that I can open the door."

"Thank heavens," Beth sighed with relief when Mr. Leonard's weather worn features came into view, his eyes mirroring her own relief to find the other unharmed.

"My goodness Mr. Leonard, you're hurt!" Beth gasped when she saw the small cut on his forehead.

"I am alright, dear girl." He said, patting her hand with a little nod. "Got thrown from my seat, is all. It's a miracle I wasn't hurt worse."

"Still, you must let me clean you up, Mr. Leonard," Beth said, letting go of the window frame hesitantly so that Mr. Leonard could open the door.

He chuckled. "You remind me so much of my daughter Mary. Always such a bossy little thing."

Beth managed a smile, wanting so much to tell him that he reminded her of her father. They had the same quiet, watchful eyes framed with dark brows, the same rough yet kind features of a man who had known a hard life.

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, certain that the trauma of the crash and her exhaustion from so much traveling were playing heavily on her emotions.

"It's alright, dear girl," Mr. Leonard said softly, kneeling down over the opening. "Everything will be fine."

Beth wanted so much to believe him, but looking at their situation she knew that things were bad. The carriage had most likely lost a wheel, and they were lost in the woods beneath an angry sky.

"I'm alright, Mr. Leonard," Beth said for his benefit, though in truth she was downright terrified. What were they going to do? Even if they rode on horseback they would be completely exposed to the elements.

Beth froze when realization sank in. She strained to hear the sound of horses, whinnying or shuffling their hooves, even the subtle sound of their harnesses rustling as they moved. But all she heard beyond the small space was the wind howling as it passed between the high branches.

"Mr. Leonard," Beth whispered. "Where are the horses?"

Mr. Leonard grabbed her wrists and helped her climb out of the overturned coach and into the chill of the morning air. He swallowed, turning his anxious gaze away from her wide fearful eyes. "The crash spooked them something awful, Miss Townsend. I'm afraid they're long gone."

~~~

"This could be the last ride we enjoy for a while," Mr. Gibbs called, pulling up on the reins and turning his horse towards the tree line.

"Knowing your passion for riding, Mr. Gibbs, I daresay you will not let a bit of snow stop you," Garrett said, slowing his horse as he came up beside the older man.

Mr. Gibbs chuckled, leaning forward slightly to pat his old brown mare on the neck. "You know me too well, sir."

Garrett looked up at the gloomy sky, dark and foreboding just as his mood had been the past several years. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, his senses taking in the smells and sounds of the forest, the very forest where it had all begun some ten years ago.

The old woman's cackle seemed to carry on the wind, and Garrett couldn't help but touch the scar that marred his right cheek, tracing the raised skin where it began just below his eye, moving his fingers down to where it angled through his lips and down his chin, disappeared below his jaw. Even now he could feel the burn of the curse beneath the scar, just as strong and evil as it was the day the old witch had slashed the enchanted piece of wood across his skin.

"It's far too early in the morning to be thinking so deeply," Mr. Gibbs said softly, his warm eyes meeting Garrett's. "What troubles you, my lord?"

Garrett cleared his throat pulling his hand from his face with a scowl. "Do you even need to ask? The same damn thing that has troubled me for the past decade, Mr. Gibbs."

Mr. Gibbs nodded sadly, the wind lifting his shoulder length white hair. "I do not pretend to know what you are going through, my lord. But I am certain things will get better."

Garrett laughed humorlessly, the harsh sound making his horse shift nervously beneath him. "Things will never get better, Mr. Gibbs. I am cursed. Damned. My only peace will be in death."

Mr. Gibbs opened his mouth to protest, when a scream erupted in the distance, cutting through the silence.

Garrett's head shot to the right, his heightened sense of hearing picking up the creaking and splitting of wood, carried to him on the light breeze.

"Follow me," Garrett shouted, turning his horse in the direction of the sound, his black gelding darting between the trees and up the road.

Mr. Gibbs rode up beside him just as four horses, harnessed together, charged towards them.

Both men maneuvered their own horses out of the way to avoid running headlong into the clearly aggravated animals.

"Stop those horses, Mr. Gibbs," Garrett called over his shoulder, not slowing his own pace. Mr. Gibbs nodded then pulled up on the reins, turning to chase down the runaway horses.

Garrett slowed his horse when an overturned coach came into view, a travel trunk and several small bags scattered along the muddy road. Splinters of wood lay across the ground, and were all that remained of the wheel that had most likely caught itself in a ditch and caused the coach to meet with an accident.

Garrett cursed under his breath, knowing that he would have no choice but to help the travelers. He hated to be so put out, after all it was their own foolishness that had gotten them into such a predicament, not his. So why should he bother to help them? No one had seen him ride up, and he was certain that they would be too distracted to notice if he simply rode away.

But he knew that would never work, for where he was cold and callous Mr. Gibbs, his valet, was kind and generous. Though the old man was far below Garrett's station, he frequently took privileges with the way he spoke, overriding Garrett's commands when he did not find them agreeable. The only reason Garrett put up with it was because the old man had been like a father to him, and the old man was willing to keep Garrett's dark secrets and put up with his foul moods.

Garrett sighed, certain that this was another situation where Mr. Gibbs would act with a kindness that he himself couldn't seem to muster. He wasn't even sure now why he bothered to come and explore where the scream had come from, or why he had insisted that Mr. Gibbs try and catch the runaway horses. He decided to chalk it up to curiosity and perhaps even boredom. After all, the life of a monster could be rather monotonous.

As he rode closer, Garrett saw a dark haired man kneeling on the side of the coach, leaning down through the doorway. He watched as the man pulled a small form up and out of the coach, and Garrett rode closer. There was something about the small trembling form coming up out of the carriage that drew all of his attention. Garret sucked in a breath and pulled his horse to a halt when he saw that it was a woman, her long golden brown hair curling around her face and shoulders, her cape a tangle around her waist.

She glanced around warily before her wide brown eyes met his, her fear evident when she looked at his face. She looked at the dark haired man who was helping her and said something, her gaze meeting Garrett's once more. She tilted her head as she observed him, looking over his face with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

Garrett had grown accustomed to the horrified stares and disgusted glances of others. They were rare because he had become somewhat of a recluse, but when he did meet with the occasional lost traveler or businessman looking to invest on his behalf, the horror and revulsion hadn't bothered him in the slightest. So then why did his heart sink when the young beauty looked upon him that same way?

With his jaw clenched, Garrett turned his scarred face away from her and dismounted his horse.

"Thank goodness," The old man said as he helped the young woman to the ground. "Lord knows what we would have done if you hadn't shown up, sir."

Garrett nodded tightly at the old coach driver, aware of the young woman's gaze still fixed on his face.

"What happened here, Mr.--"

"Leonard, sir. William Leonard. I'm taking the young lady to Somerset, you see. Didn't know how bad the road was until""

"Why did you not stay to the main road, Mr. Leonard?" Garrett demanded, the old driver's foolishness and the young woman's steady gaze feeding his irritation. He cast her a sideways glance and saw that she no longer looked upon him with apprehension"she looked at him with sadness. Her concerned gaze angered and disgusted him.

"I-I've traveled this way before, sir." Mr. Leonard stammered, tugging nervously at his collar. "I wasn't aware that the road would be so bad."

"It has been a bad winter, Mr. Leonard," Garrett said harshly. "Your foolish desire to make haste could have cost you your life and the life of this young lady. Furthermore, you are trespassing on my land."

"Begging your pardon, sir," the woman murmured, stepping in front of Mr. Leonard. "I requested that we take the fastest route to Somerset. I have acquired a job as governess to a family there, and I am most eager to secure my position. So you see sir, it was my own desire to make haste that caused this accident, not any mistake on the part of Mr. Leonard. Please accept our apologies for trespassing, we were not aware that this was a private road."

She stared up at him, her eyes flickering to his scar before she met his gaze once more.

Garrett scowled. "What are you staring at?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"N-nothing, sir," she stammered, her eyes wide.

Garrett couldn't seem to peel his gaze away from her bright, engaging brown eyes, nor did he have any desire to. She was a lovely creature, holding a beauty unlike any he had ever seen in his life. Yet no paints or powders covered her flawless skin, she wore no jewelry, and her hair was not adorned with any combs. She wore a simple blue gown and black cloak, and though it might have looked plain on anyone else, it suited her figure nicely. Furthermore, Garrett had never much cared for the fashions that women always made such a fuss over, and though he was certain that they had changed greatly over the last decade, he had no doubt that even the finest lady in the court would never compare to this young woman. Though the young woman before him was disheveled and pale from her accident and from the cold, with her hair pooling down her back in unkempt waves, Garrett had to admit that there was something very endearing about her.

"Mr. Leonard has injured himself quite badly," the young woman said, pulling Garrett from his thoughts. She turning her concerned gaze towards Mr. Leonard and looped her arm through his. "Will you please help him?"

Garrett looked into the woman's pleading eyes, trying to hide his confusion. He could see that she too was injured--a bruise was already forming near her hairline, and the top of her hand was scraped and turning red where part of her glove had ripped away. Yet she was more concerned with the well being of the old man rather than herself? Garrett had never met such a woman, had never met anyone who put others before themselves. He certainly never had, and he wasn't planning to start now.

He opened his mouth to tell the young lady that Mr. Leonard was no concern of his, when hoof beats coming down the road caught his attention. Garrett glanced over his shoulder to see Mr. Gibbs coming up the road, his old mare panting and shaking her head after the invigorating run.

Mr. Gibbs climbed down from his horse, pressing his hand to his back as he walked towards them.

"What of the horses?" Garrett asked.

"Couldn't catch them, I'm afraid," Mr. Gibbs said, offering the young woman a reassuring smile.

"Oh dear," she murmured, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm so very sorry, Mr. Leonard."

He nodded sadly, patting the young woman's hand gently before turning his attention to Garret. "Would you by chance be willing to help us get to Somerset, sir?"

"I regret to inform you Mr. Leonard, that the road narrows not two miles ahead, and has been washed out for several months."

"Surely there is another route we can try," the young woman said, looking to Mr. Gibbs.

"I assure you there is not," Garrett snapped. The young woman flinched at his harsh tone, but he went on anyway. "There is no way through these woods. The only way out is to go back the way you came and take the main road around."

She shook her head. "Go back? We can't go back, sir. It's been miles since we've seen anything besides forest."

Garrett stepped forward, meeting her gaze. "Considering the fact that you are the reason for this mess, you will have no further say in the matter."

Her cheeks reddened and to Garrett's amusement she glared at him.

"We should head back, my lord," Mr. Gibbs said, clearing his throat. He cast Garrett a warning look, clearly wanting him to be polite in front of the young lady. Garrett smirked at the old man, receiving a disappointed frown from Mr. Gibbs in return.

"Will we be assisting the gentlemen and young lady?" Mr. Gibbs asked, smiling warmly at the young woman, and she smiled back. Garrett let out a shaky breath when he saw how it lit up her brown eyes and revealed a small dimple in her cheek.

She was lovely standing still and frightened, but she was a goddess when she smiled. This new discovery made Garrett's heart race.

Garrett nodded tightly at Mr. Gibbs, sensing the urgency to seek out the shelter of the castle before the storm unleashed its fury upon them.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Garrett closed his eyes, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the air. He could sense the shift in the storm, and he knew that if they didn't get back to the castle, they would be lost in the blizzard.

"A storm will be upon us soon," Garrett breathed, opening his eyes to find the young woman watching him, her eyebrow quirked up as she observed him.

"It seems the two of you are going to be my guests for a time," He grated, not taking his eyes from her lovely face.

"I beg your pardon?" She said, tugging anxiously at a strand of hair curling over her shoulder.

"This forest is situated low in the valley, my dear," Mr. Gibbs said, trying to ease her panic. "Unfortunately, that means that when harsh storms come our way, as they do each winter, we become snowed in."

The woman gasped, her gloved hand touching her throat. "Then perhaps we should go back," she breathed.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Garrett said, crossing his arms. Her scent carried to his nose on the light breeze wrapping around him, and he breathed deep. She smelled of lavender"and fear.

"And why is that?" She asked nervously.

Because I want you to be mine.

He shoved the thought aside, shaking his head slightly. What was wrong with him?

"Because you won't escape the storm," Garrett said, looking up at the sky. "Soon the world around us will be shrouded in white, and you won't be able to see a thing. It will get much colder too, and your flimsy cloak and gloves will do nothing to save you from frost bite and exposure. If you tried to go back now, you would most certainly die out here."

She gasped, her face going completely pale as she glanced to Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Leonard.

Garrett had the sudden urge to apologize for his harsh words, to take her into his arms and assure her that no harm would come to her. He decided against it, certain that she hadn't been surprised to hear such cruel words from a monster like him.

~~~

Beth couldn't believe that this was happening. After all her careful planning, after days of traveling and nights spent at dark, musty, overcrowded inns, she wasn't going to make it to Somerset. If what her rescuer's had said about the storm was true, she was indeed stranded. Which meant that there was nothing she could do but agree to go with them.

She raised her head and looked at the man who had come to their aid, holding back a shiver when she met his cold blue eyes. Though a deep scar marred one side of his face, he was more handsome than any man she had ever laid eyes upon. His eyes were hard and unreadable as he looked at her, yet they were beautiful, and held a sadness that tore at her heart. His jaw was strong and shadowed with stubble, his shoulder length black hair pulled back from his face with a thin strip of brown leather. He hadn't smiled once since the moment she met him, his full lips set in a grim line and his brows drawn together, as though he was irritated by the whole situation--and most especially, her.

Beth let her eyes wander over the planes of his face, embarrassed by the way that she continued to stare. Yet she couldn't seem to pull her eyes away. There was something intriguing about him, something that drew her in, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

"Come along then, dear." The old man with long grey hair said, his melodious voice cutting through her thoughts. "I assure you that within the hour you will be safe and warm. My wife makes a lovely tea that will put the color back in those cheeks."

Beth tore her eyes away from the strangers face and managed to smile at the older gentlemen who had ridden up moments before. "Thank you, Mr.""

"Good heavens, where are my manners? I am Mr. Gibbs, Miss," he said with a slight nod. "And you are?"

"Elizabeth Townsend," She said, taking his hand and offering him a warm smile.

"This is hardly the time for introductions," The gentlemen with the scarred face snapped, pushing a few loose strands of hair out of his face.

"And this is Garrett Thorne, Lord of Blackmoor," Mr. Gibbs said, ignoring the glowering man who stood several feet taller than all of them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir," Beth managed, the smile on her lips fading when he continued to glare at her.

"Now that this nonsense is out of the way," Mr. Thorne said evenly. "We need to get moving."

"What about my things?" Beth asked, glancing towards her small travel bag and the large trunk which was overturned in the mud.

"You will have to survive without your gowns and perfumes, Miss Townsend," Mr. Thorne mocked. "I'm not willing to die out here whilst trying to carry your belongings through the forest just so that you can preserve your vanity."

Beth winced at his cutting words, but if Mr. Thorne was aware that his statement had hurt her, he didn't show it. He was already turning and walking towards his horse, tugging at the collar of his great coat as he went. She was overcome with a desire to defend herself, wanting to tell him that she only had two gowns, the plain dark blue one she was wearing now, and the brown dress in her trunk. She didn't have any perfumes either. Her trunk was stuffed full with her books, and her small travel bag held only her nightgown and slippers, along with a few small pieces of paste jewelry that had belonged to her mother.

"Grab what you can dear," Mr. Gibbs said kindly, casting an irritated glance at Mr. Thorne. "Just be quick about it."

Beth nodded, grateful for his kindness. She picked up her travel bag and went quickly to her trunk and pulled out a few of the books that had been her fathers, stuffing them into her bag.

Beth rushed back towards Mr. Thorne and the other men, who were standing with the horses.
Mr. Thorne smirked at her when he saw her small floral bag clutched to her chest, and she was suddenly very worried about agreeing to go with them. She knew nothing about him or Mr. Gibbs, only that they were willing to give shelter to her and Mr. Leonard. She had no choice but to go with them, and hope that they had been mistaken about how bad the storm would be. She only hoped that after a day or two at most, she could continue her journey to Somerset and the secure, happy future that she so longed for.

"If you are quite ready, Miss Townsend," Mr. Thorne said with a mocking bow of his head. "May we have your permission to depart? After all, it is only our lives that depend on making haste."

Beth nodded miserably, unable to form words. No one had ever spoken to her with such a cruel, condescending air. Not even Edmund. It seemed that no matter what she said or did, Mr. Thorne was all too eager to seize the opportunity to make her feel unwelcome in his presence.

Mr. Thorne took her waist in his hands roughly and lifted her up into the saddle, then swung up into the saddle behind her.

"Help Mr. Leonard," Mr. Thorne shouted at Mr. Gibbs. The old man nodded, taking the coach driver by the arm and leading him towards his horse.

With that Mr. Thorne kicked his heels into the horses' sides and it leapt forward, sending Beth back against Mr. Thorne's wide chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist gently, and for a moment she hoped that she had been mistaken about the mysterious Mr. Thorne.

"Hold on," he said, irritated. "I don't need you sending us both tumbling from the saddle because of your carelessness."

Beth clutched her travel bag tighter as icy rain came down upon them. It seemed she had not been mistaken about Mr. Thorne after all.

Author's Note

Please let me know of any grammar or spelling mistakes that you notice, so that I can go through and fix them:) I hope you enjoy the first chapter, thank you for reading!