Read Online Miss Marcie's Mischief by Lindsay Randall - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsay Randall
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behind schedule, but could just as easily take time to retrieve a broken-winged bird from the roadside and gift a gabby innkeeper's wife with a new set of knitting needles.
Too, he'd helped a runaway schoolgirl escape from the snowy mews of a London boarding school. Never would Marcie forget that.
"Are you ready?" Cole was asking her.
Marcie yanked her thoughts back to the present. "More than ready, My Lord Monarch," she said, a smile on her lips.
Cole Coachman gifted her with a grin. Indeed, he even took it upon himself to guide Prinny from his hat-rack perch. Prinny went easily enough but ruffled his feathers as Marcie stepped beside Cole.
"You had best take him. He seems to be particular about where he deigns to perch."
Marcie took the bird, which hopped atop her muff, and stayed there until Cole helped her up and onto the hard bench, at which time Prinny jumped down to sit in the space between her body and Cole's.
Waving to Meg and the innkeep, Marcie found herself thrust back on the seat as Cole directed his horses out of the yard and back onto the road.
John Reeve blew his horn once again.
And once again, the silence and beauty of the eerily lit night took them into its depths.
* * *
Marcie found herself nodding off to sleep, huddled as she was beneath the toasty carriage rug. She felt warm and safe with Prinny perched at her side and "whoo-whooing" now and then. The sound of the carriage wheels churning over the snow-covered roads lulled her into a peaceful state, and the sound of Cole Coachman's even breathing helped propel her into a soft cocoon of dreamy wonder.
And what dreams she had!
She dreamed of a castle carved out of dark stone. Caught in the depths of its chilling darkness, she could suddenly hear the thunder of pounding horses' hooves, could feel the very earth tremble. A bold knight in a blazing chariot materialized, racing toward her. Yet there came a villain as well. Marcie heard the snort of the villain's black beast, could feel the man's menace from a universe away. She saw herself reaching for the shining white knight. Just another few paces and she would be beside him. One more step, and then all would be well....
Marcie came awake with a start, feeling horridly compelled to scream. Her eyes opened to the glare of torchlight. The coach wasn't moving, and she felt Cole's rigid body next to hers.
"What...?" she began.
"Hush," Cole whispered forcefully.
What had seemed a dream, wasn't totally a dream. The coach had indeed stopped. She spied the gun in Cole's hands. Looking up, she saw the rider upon which that gun was aimed.
It was a highwayman barring their way! And he held a primed pistol pointing straight at Marcie's heart.
"Do not move," muttered Cole.
Marcie nodded, forcing herself not to breathe.
Even Prinny came awake then, widening his large eyes and peering at the lone rider.
"Do as I say and no one gets hurt," said the masked man. "Now hand over all valuables, or I'll blow a hole clean through your lady friend before you can move!"
Marcie, now fully awake, found herself miffed that the lowly man would dare to threaten Cole. Too, the fact that the robber's hand shook a bit as he tossed out his horrid threat made her think the man was not the terrible beastie he hoped they would believe him to be.
He wore a threadbare coat, several sizes too big, and a dirty muffler which he'd wound about the lower half of his face. His boots were scuffed and dirty and worn through at the toes, at which place he'd tied some strips of old cloth. His fingers stuck through the knitting of his gloves, and his slouch hat was much the worse for wear.
A very unlikely highwayman, thought Marcie. Having been reared in Cornwall, she'd viewed—from afar, of course—more than a few highway thieves. The man did not at all seem cut out for a life of thievery and mayhem—or murder, for that matter. Too, didn't highwaymen steal enough coin to dress themselves in a warm fashion?
"Now, see here," said
Too, he'd helped a runaway schoolgirl escape from the snowy mews of a London boarding school. Never would Marcie forget that.
"Are you ready?" Cole was asking her.
Marcie yanked her thoughts back to the present. "More than ready, My Lord Monarch," she said, a smile on her lips.
Cole Coachman gifted her with a grin. Indeed, he even took it upon himself to guide Prinny from his hat-rack perch. Prinny went easily enough but ruffled his feathers as Marcie stepped beside Cole.
"You had best take him. He seems to be particular about where he deigns to perch."
Marcie took the bird, which hopped atop her muff, and stayed there until Cole helped her up and onto the hard bench, at which time Prinny jumped down to sit in the space between her body and Cole's.
Waving to Meg and the innkeep, Marcie found herself thrust back on the seat as Cole directed his horses out of the yard and back onto the road.
John Reeve blew his horn once again.
And once again, the silence and beauty of the eerily lit night took them into its depths.
* * *
Marcie found herself nodding off to sleep, huddled as she was beneath the toasty carriage rug. She felt warm and safe with Prinny perched at her side and "whoo-whooing" now and then. The sound of the carriage wheels churning over the snow-covered roads lulled her into a peaceful state, and the sound of Cole Coachman's even breathing helped propel her into a soft cocoon of dreamy wonder.
And what dreams she had!
She dreamed of a castle carved out of dark stone. Caught in the depths of its chilling darkness, she could suddenly hear the thunder of pounding horses' hooves, could feel the very earth tremble. A bold knight in a blazing chariot materialized, racing toward her. Yet there came a villain as well. Marcie heard the snort of the villain's black beast, could feel the man's menace from a universe away. She saw herself reaching for the shining white knight. Just another few paces and she would be beside him. One more step, and then all would be well....
Marcie came awake with a start, feeling horridly compelled to scream. Her eyes opened to the glare of torchlight. The coach wasn't moving, and she felt Cole's rigid body next to hers.
"What...?" she began.
"Hush," Cole whispered forcefully.
What had seemed a dream, wasn't totally a dream. The coach had indeed stopped. She spied the gun in Cole's hands. Looking up, she saw the rider upon which that gun was aimed.
It was a highwayman barring their way! And he held a primed pistol pointing straight at Marcie's heart.
"Do not move," muttered Cole.
Marcie nodded, forcing herself not to breathe.
Even Prinny came awake then, widening his large eyes and peering at the lone rider.
"Do as I say and no one gets hurt," said the masked man. "Now hand over all valuables, or I'll blow a hole clean through your lady friend before you can move!"
Marcie, now fully awake, found herself miffed that the lowly man would dare to threaten Cole. Too, the fact that the robber's hand shook a bit as he tossed out his horrid threat made her think the man was not the terrible beastie he hoped they would believe him to be.
He wore a threadbare coat, several sizes too big, and a dirty muffler which he'd wound about the lower half of his face. His boots were scuffed and dirty and worn through at the toes, at which place he'd tied some strips of old cloth. His fingers stuck through the knitting of his gloves, and his slouch hat was much the worse for wear.
A very unlikely highwayman, thought Marcie. Having been reared in Cornwall, she'd viewed—from afar, of course—more than a few highway thieves. The man did not at all seem cut out for a life of thievery and mayhem—or murder, for that matter. Too, didn't highwaymen steal enough coin to dress themselves in a warm fashion?
"Now, see here," said
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