The Voyage (On Hold)

Chapter Seven

The ride into Gretna Green was a short, but stifling one. Winifred decided on keeping her mouth closed and her eyes glued to the window. The odious Lord Fenwick showed no further interest in speaking to her either after their brief exchange of words. Keeping his arms crossed over his chest, he sat with one ankle resting over his pant knee and his chin lowered, causing his floppy, brown hat to shadow over a good portion of his face.

The carriage halted with a jut of the wheels and a loud hollar outside from the driver within the storm. Lord Fenwick snapped his head up, his hand already reaching for the door handle.

"Time to go." He announced coldly, opening wide the door. A great, freezing gust of wind flew into his face prompting him to immediately lift a hand to protect his hat from flying off. Grumbling curses beneath his breath, he ventured out into the wind and rains.

Winifred clutched his coat tighter around herself as she practically froze just from being near the opened door. Shivering with clenched teeth, she followed him into the torrential downpour with a peturbed grimace. This night couldn't get any worse, it truly couldn't. There was nothing more she wanted than to be back in the cozy warmth of Thomas's arms, hearing his tender promises and forgetting about the rest of the world.

Why was fate always so cruel to her?

She glared at Lord Fenwick's backside as he led them across the muddy street towards a small, undecorated wooden cottage. A tiny oval sign inscribed with a wedding advertisement hung by two chains hooked to two tiny poles in the ground.

"Where are we?!" She shouted to Fenwick over the rain, halting in defiance. Turning, he grabbed her hand in his, pulling her along with him despite her growling protests.

"In the last place I intended to be today of all joyous days. This would have been much simpler a matter to handle had you shown up to the church this morning, yet alas, here we are." He snapped back, raising his free hand and banging on the wooden door.

The door swung open to reveal a stout woman with frizzy red hair upswept in a loose bun. Her green eyes roamed down the sight of both Fenwick and Winifred before she smiled broadly.

"Aye, McBanard, two lovebirds are here at our doorstep looking for a ceremony! Hurry on then!" She called over her shoulder, ushering them in quickly with her hands. Pulling them both in from the rain, she smiled between them one at a time, "I'm so happy you chose our wee place to tie your love together! I canna tell you when's the last we've seen travelers to our doors. And my oh my, the lad couldna be a more lucky one with such a bonny lass!"

Winifred ducked her chin to veil her unnerved expression. Fenwick suddenly surprised her by replying to the kindly woman, "Our apologies on showing up on your doorstep at such a late hour, the journey here was most...unexpected."

The woman laughed merrily and shook her head, leading them deeper into the cottage where they entered a comfortable little living area, warmed by a cozy fireplace. A looming giant of a man entered into the room from behind them, chuckling deeply and moving to stand in front of them.

"Alright ye are? Good to have you. I'm Douglas Mcbanard and this is my wife, Elsie." He rumbled with a red-cheecked smile. Turning to his wife, he remarked jovially, "Now then, Elsie, go fetch the rings and some tea."

"Rings?" Winifed asked aloud without hesitation.

Douglas laughed a jolly sound, casting a look towards Fenwick before he answered, "Of course! I ken you'll need 'em for your marriage, lassie."

Paling in the face, Winifred lowered her gaze to the floor in stunned silence, feeling altogether out of her body in that moment. Everything was happening so fast. She was having great difficulty processing any of it.