Snowbound With The Baronet by Deborah Hale

either.”
    “Very well, my dear, if that is what you wish.” The tone of Mrs. Martin’s agreement told Cassandra she would like to meddle if permitted. “I promise I will not breathe a word to the gentleman about what you have told me.”
    “It is what I wish,” Cassandra confirmed, so there could be no possible doubt.
    She chided herself for fretting so much about what Mrs. Martin might say to Brandon when she should be more concerned about his safe return.
    “What can be taking them so long?” She echoed his cousin’s question, but in a tone of anxiety rather than annoyance. “They should have been back before this, even if the going was difficult.”
    It haunted her to think of Brandon out there in the cold, unable to find his way, with every step a struggle. If any harm befell him out there, how would she bear it? She would have to grieve in secret, for no one would understand her feelings. She would have no claim on the sympathy due a grieving widow or even a bereaved sweetheart.
    Then she heard the Martins’ dog bark. It had been a welcome sound last night, but was a hundred times more to Cassandra at that moment.
    Just... one... more... step. Brandon urged his exhausted body and frostbitten extremities with a litany that was half exhortation and half promise. His body had long since ceased to believe the promise.
    “Are we still going the right way, sir?” Edward called. He clung to the horse’s girth on the right-hand side while the coach guard held onto the left. Brandon led the creature by the bridle, his eyes fixed forward.
    The wind had blown snow into their tracks, making the trail harder and harder to follow. The only saving grace was that it gusted down from the north, leaving a slight hollow on one side. It was not always easy to spot, but it was better than nothing.
    “We are!” he shouted back, trying to infuse his voice with optimism. “It cannot be much farther.”
    That was what kept him staggering forward—the dogged determination to get the others back safely... and the prospect of seeing Cassandra again. At first he had tried to dismiss that thought. But as step followed labored step and other inducements failed, the image of her continued to draw him on.
    “Do you hear that?” The coach guard cried. “I think it’s the Martins’ dog.”
    Brandon could not hear anything over the shriek of the wind. That did not stop him from crying, “You see? I told you it could not be far!”
    He feared the effect on their spirits if it turned out to be wrong. But after a few more steps, he could hear the dog quite clearly.
    Then Podger came bounding toward them, followed by Mr. Martin, the coachman and Brandon’s driver.
    “Back at last!” called the farmer. “We were beginning to think you might have kept on going all the way to Marlborough.”
    The coachman took Brandon’s place leading the horse and they all trudged back to the barn.
    “Get into the house and thaw out,” Mr. Martin ordered Brandon and his companions. “We’ll unload this lot. The trunks can stay here in the barn. They’ll be dry and folks can fetch what they need.”
    Brandon was too tired to do more than nod. He lurched toward the house, grateful beyond measure to whoever had made a path to the door.
    As he pushed it open, a wave of warm air billowed over him, fragrant with the aroma of new bread, roast meat and spiced apples. Even better than those mouth-watering smells was the sight of Cassandra, flushed and smiling with a suspicious glint of moisture in her dark eyes.
    For an instant Brandon thought she might throw her arms around him. His heart leapt at the prospect. But she only seized his arm and drew him deeper into the entry hall to make room for the men behind him.
    He could not be too disappointed, however. For when she spoke, the relief in her voice seemed to embrace him. “Come in, come in! You must be frozen. We were growing quite worried about you.
    She took his hat and brushed the snow from it,