Free My Favorite Bride by Christina Dodd Page B

emerald meadow. Here and there in the depths of shadow drifts of snow lingered, even in the heat of the summer, and in the lower reaches, stands of ash, elm and hazel stood together like noble soldiers awaiting battle. Birds—huge birds—floated in lazy circles in the blue sky.
    Overcome, Samantha covered her mouth with her hand.
    Emmeline tugged at her other hand. “Miss Prendregast, why do you look so funny?”
    â€œI . . . just . . . I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s so . . . wild. And . . . horrifying.”
    Agnes strutted forward. “I’ll tell Father you said so. He loves the mountains above all else.”
    Samantha tore her gaze away from the vista to look Agnes in the eyes. “Your Father already knows what I think about the wilderness. I told him.”
    â€œYou . . . did . . . not.” Agnes was wide-eyed and incredulous. “No one tells Father things he doesn’t want to hear.”
    â€œI do.” Samantha surveyed the veranda made of polished granite, with chairs and tables placed here and there below broad canvas sunshades. “This looks very comfortable. Why don’t we stay here?”
    â€œNo! No!” Henrietta jumped up and down, fists clenched. “We want to take you to the m—”
    Vivian slapped her hand across Henrietta’s mouth. “To the rope bridge. We want to take you to the rope bridge.”
    Samantha looked from one to the other, then around at all the girls. “To the rope bridge?”
    They nodded in unison.
    â€œThen certainly to the rope bridge we must go.” Samantha gestured to Agnes. “Lead on, Macduff.”
    They took the stone path that curved along the lake, then left it behind and led into the trees. The oak trees were at first part of the park, with smooth lawns beneath them and benches placed here and there for a walker’s comfort. But soon the children veered off into a wilder part, clambering over drystone walls, strolling along dirt paths worn into a wildflower meadow.
    Samantha slowed. “Are we still on your father’s land?”
    Agnes turned to face her. “Why?”
    â€œBecause your father requested that we remain on his estate.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell Father you didn’t want to?” Agnes asked snidely.
    â€œBecause I do want to. I want to remain safe, and I intend that you should be, too.” She held Agnes’s gaze until Agnes looked away.
    The ground rose beneath their feet. They walked around puddles and through patches of underbrush. In the steep parts, Agnes had to help Kyla, and Vivian helped Emmeline.
    Agnes took a moment to glance back at Samantha. “Are you able to walk so far, Miss Prendregast?”
    â€œEven though I am quite advanced in years, I find I am managing tolerably.”
    Agnes caught Samantha’s dry tone, although Samantha doubted the others did, and shot her a first shocked, then malicious look.
    Oblivious, Mara offered her hand. “I’ll help you, Miss Prendregast.”
    Samantha took it and delighted in the trusting way the little fingers curled in hers.
    â€œIt’s not far,” Mara assured her.
    The rope bridge was just what they said, a bridge made of thick rope knotted around slats to form the narrow footpath. Here there were no trees, only a few tufts of grass surrounding a hollow over which the sagging bridge crossed. Black, thick, oozing mud filled the hollow. The ends of the bridge werelooped over stakes driven into the ground.
    There were no handrails. Naturally.
    Agnes stood with her hands on her hips and challenged Samantha. “I wager you’re afraid to cross that.”
    Samantha had to play this very carefully. The others were children, credulous in the way of most children. Agnes, however, stood on the cusp of adolescence, and she had been in charge of their successful little rebellion for too long. Samantha leaned over, grasped