Page 11 of The Milliner and the Griffin Rider

Ammy gave her a disapproving look before sighing and tucking her head back into her front paws. Thirty minutes or so. I wouldn’t recommend going outside.

“No,” Chloe said, excitement seizing her. “That’s exactly what I need to do.” She hesitated. “But don’t tell Maddie. She’ll just worry.”

A soft purring snore from Ammy made her laugh. But she couldn’t waste any time.

She rushed over to the rack of dresses in one corner which Maddie had been fitting to Chloe’s size. Regretfully she considered them, aware that whichever one she picked might not survive the afternoon.

Her fingers seized the first one she had worn. Maddie still hadn’t found time to repair it, so it was the perfect choice. A few tears would only help sell her story.

She stopped to grab her least favorite bonnet before rushing outside. The hat, unfortunately, was not going to survive her upcoming adventure.

Hurrying through the outskirts of town, Chloe calculated her point of entry into the extended grounds around the manor. She needed to end up in the hill section behind the manor, where no hedge separated her from the gardens and house. And preferably out of sight of any of the windows. She planned to linger as close to the manor as possible, and she didn’t want to be spotted doing so.

She arrived at her chosen location while the sun still shone in a blue sky, but the first signs of dark clouds were racing across the town toward her. She turned her back on them, pacing up and down without going far. After several paces, she looked at her gown and shook her head.

Regretfully, she seized handfuls of the material and widened the existing tears, although she only did it low down where the gashes didn’t threaten the structure of the dress. She merely wanted to suggest at least one fall had taken place—she didn’t want to risk the gown falling off entirely. She rubbed dirt across her lower skirts and a single smear on her cheek for good measure, knowing the coming rain would turn it into mud.

“I’m sorry, Maddie,” she whispered. “It really was a beautiful dress.”

She looked again at the clouds, marveling at how quickly they were moving. She should have anticipated their arrival with dread, but instead she almost buzzed with energy. Pacing in the wind, braced for the arrival of rain, was easier than sitting for hours hunched over yet another hat, her mind racing while her body could not.

“If this doesn’t move you to compassion,” she said toward the distant manor, “then you don’t deserve the title of gentleman, let alone Duke. And the same if you turn me away.”

She shook her head. Surely even dukes were raised on the same fairy stories as the rest of them. Only the greatest villain would turn away a woman in distress in the middle of a storm.

Her biggest fear wasn’t of being left in the rain but of being handed straight to a servant and relegated to the servants’ quarters for the rest of her time in the manor, never laying eyes on the Duke. Her eyes lingered on the distant glimpse of the manor roof. It was a handsome building, made with golden stone and using the elegant lines of an earlier age. She would never live in such a home—marriage wasn’t the purpose of her foolish charade—but she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like. Did you ever grow inured to the beauty? Perhaps she would ask Harrison one day, since he must live on the grounds with the rest of the squad.

She shook herself, horrified at the direction of her thoughts. She needed to get herself under control. She wouldn’t be speaking to Captain Harrison again any time soon. She was determined to avoid him at all costs.

A crack of thunder made her jump. She’d missed the flash of lightning, but she didn’t miss the abrupt deluge of rain. Gasping, she was wet through within seconds.

Biting her lip, she stumbled toward her chosen path—one that would lead her out of the hills right by the front of the manor. But already it was hard to see. The sky had grown dark, and thick rain obscured her vision.

She slipped and stumbled along the path, gasping again and again at the cold now permeating to her bones. When had it turned freezing? She shivered, nearly missing a bend in the path. Turning abruptly, she slid in the mud that now coated the ground, falling hard.

Wincing, she scrambled back to her feet, staring down at her gown in dismay. The artistic arrangement of dirt had been one thing, but she now resembled a drowned rat—an extremely dirty one. It wasn’t exactly the charming picture of distress she had hoped to present to the Duke.

A flash of bright light ahead of her was followed almost immediately by the crack of thunder. She jumped, gulping and hurrying forward. As much as she didn’t want to fall again, she wanted to be hit by lightning even less. She would be safer by the manor than she was in this treeless section of hills.

She stumbled onto the gravel paths of the garden with relief, her pace increasing as she fled toward the manor door. She had imagined her flight to safety being staged, but now that the storm was on her, it had become all too real.

Shivering so badly she almost slipped, she mounted the short steps to the manor’s great door. But just as she was lifting her hand to the brass knocker, a voice shouted her name, the single word only just reaching her ears over the wind.

She spun, confused, and her slipper slid on the wet stone. Teetering, she tried to regain her balance, staggering backward. Her foot reached the edge of the step, and she lost her fight against gravity, falling backward.

An oath sounded, too muffled to be heard clearly over the storm, and gravel crunched underfoot as someone lunged forward. Strong arms caught her, pulling her against an equally wet jacket.

She gasped, trying to look up at the man now holding her in his arms. Rain pounded against his bare head, and his shirt sleeves clung to his arms as he stared down at her, his brows drawing together as water ran down his cheeks and off his chin.

But she didn’t need to see his face to know it was Harrison. Her traitorous body already knew the familiar feel of his arms holding her safe.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, and she caught the words only because their heads were so close.

“Sh…shelter,” she gasped out, her teeth chattering.

He shook his head once, but he didn’t question her further. Unfortunately, he didn’t carry her up the steps to the front door either. Instead, he cast a single look at the manor before shaking his head and striding off along the front of the building.

Chloe tried to protest, even struggling feebly to be let down. But Harrison didn’t seem to notice, and Chloe quickly subsided. She wasn’t actually sure her legs would hold her any longer. As it was, she was shivering so hard that the captain’s arms tightened around her. Forgetting all about dignity and even propriety, she tried to burrow into him, his body the one source of warmth holding back the freezing storm.