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unknown in my fiendish company, or would you prefer to perish alone here?”
    It irked her beyond words that really she had no choice.
    The two coachmen were exchanging words again, she was aware—none too gentle words either.
    â€œTake an hour or two in which to decide,” the gentleman said with heavy irony, cocking that eyebrow again. “I am in no hurry.”
    â€œWhat about Thomas?” she asked.
    â€œThomas being the man in the moon?” he asked. “Or your coachman, perhaps? He will bring the horses and follow us.”
    â€œVery well, then,” she said, glowering at him and then pressing her lips together.
    He strode ahead of her to the blue carriage, sending up showers of snow as he went. Frances picked her way more cautiously after him, trying to set her feet in the ruts made by the wheels.
    What a coil this was!
    He offered his hand again to help her up into the carriage. It was a wonderfully new carriage, she saw resentfully, with plush upholstered seats. As soon as she sat on one of them she sank into it and realized that it would offer marvelous comfort even through a long journey. It also felt almost warm in contrast with the raw elements outside.
    â€œThere are two bricks on the floor, both of them still somewhat warm,” the gentleman told her from the doorway. “Set your feet on one of them and cover yourself with one of the lap robes. I will see about having your belongings transferred from your carriage to mine.”
    The words themselves might have seemed both kind and considerate. But his clipped tone belied that possible impression, as did the firmness with which he slammed the door shut. Frances nevertheless did as he had suggested. Her teeth were literally chattering. Her fingers might have felt as if they were about to fall off if she could just feel them at all—she had abandoned her muff inside her own carriage.
    How long was she going to have to endure this insufferable situation? she wondered. She was not in the habit of hating or even disliking people on sight. But the thought of spending even half an hour in close company with that arrogant, bad-tempered, sneering, contemptuous gentleman was singularly unappealing. Just the thought of him made her bristle.
    Would she be able to find some other mode of travel from the first village they came to? A stagecoach, perhaps? But even as the thought flashed through her mind, she realized the absurdity of it. They would be fortunate to reach any village. Was she expecting that if they did, there would be no trace of snow there?
    She was going to be stranded somewhere overnight—without any female companion and without a great deal of money since she had refused what her great-aunts had tried to press upon her. She would be fortunate if that somewhere did not turn out to be this carriage.
    The very thought was enough to make her gasp for air.
    But it was a distinct possibility. It had seemed to her eyes just a couple of minutes ago that the road was all but invisible.
    She countered panic this time by setting her feet neatly side by side on the slightly warm brick and clasping her hands loosely in her lap.
    She would trust to the skills of the strange, impertinent Peters, who had turned out not to be hunchbacked after all.
    Now
this
would be an adventure with which to regale her friends when she finally reached Bath, she thought. Perhaps if she looked more closely at him, the gentleman would even turn out to be describable as tall, dark, and handsome—the proverbial knight in shining armor, in fact.
That
would have Susanna’s eyes popping out of her head and Anne’s eyes softening with a romantic glow. And it would have Claudia pursing her lips and looking suspicious.
    But, oh, dear, it was going to be hard to find any humor or any romance in this situation, even when she looked back on it from the safety of the school.

2

    His mother had warned him that it would snow before the day was out.