Free A Heart in Jeopardy by Holly Newman

turn. Thus it was with Miss Leona Clymene Leonard that March of 1815 when, despite all manner of fervid argument to the contrary, she at last found herself traveling in the company of Maria Sprockett to Castle Marin. Their journey was made in the first style of elegance, a situation which instead of gratifying Miss Leonard served to inflame her. The elegance and comfort irked her because the carriage was the property of the Earl of Nevin, placed at her disposal by the Honorable Nigel Deveraux.
    Sir Nathan Cruikston, in the manner of an unusually efficient civil servant, wrote Deveraux the same day Leona came to call on him and appraised him of Miss Leonard's receipt of the fateful button. Deveraux acted swiftly. He sent the carriage with postilions to Rose Cottage accompanied by a strongly worded letter, lacking both sympathy and hesitation, in which he informed her the carriage would convey her the next morning to Castle Marin.
    Leona, though reluctantly agreeing to go to Castle Marin as the least of all evils proposed for her, was determined to follow her own course for she did not take kindly to the type of autocratic pronouncements Mr. Deveraux seemed in the habit of making. By inventing last minute chores and obligations in the neighborhood, she managed to delay the departure one full day and part of the next. It was a small victory for her rebellion, but one that brought a satisfied smile to her lips.
    She was drowsing against the plush squabs when one of the maroon-and-blue-liveried servants called out to her that Castle Marin was visible ahead. She opened her eyes and leaned toward the window to catch a glimpse of what she could only think of as her future prison. To her astonishment, it appeared they were indeed approaching an actual medieval castle rather than some large stone manse with pretensions to greater grandeur as had many homes dubbed "Castle."
    A silver-gray curtain wall some two to three stories in height and studded with mural towers dominated the landscape. It appeared to be encircling an old Norman motte, or hill, for beyond the wall and above I,t silhouetted against a gathering tumbling mass of afternoon storm clouds, could be seen the crumbling darker gray stonework of an old keep. In front of the curtain wall, she thought she caught the silvery green glimmer of a substantial moat. She shook her head as awe and amusement battled each other.
    "Maria, look!"
    Maria Sprockett shifted in her seat to look over Leona's shoulder. "Oh, my. Gracious, I do see why Mr. Deveraux was confident we should be safer here than at Rose Cottage," she observed dryly.
    Leona laughed. "It hardly looks real, does it?"
    "Hmm-m. It looks like something Lord Byron or Shelley might rhapsodize over in one of their long poems. I almost expect to see archers along those walls and in those mural towers."
    "Look! There is a gatehouse ahead guarding a bridge across the moat to the barbican."
    "Do you think it is a working drawbridge?" Maria mused.
    "No, it appears to be made of stone."
    "Pity."
    Leona laughed. "Yes, but take heart. I do believe I see the iron bars of a portcullis in the gatehouse."
    The carriage turned right toward the gatehouse, and soon Leona and Maria heard the sound of the horses hooves rattling on stone as they passed under the great bars of the portcullis and over the bridge. The wind picked up as the clouds gathered above, whipping around the castle curtain walls. Wind shuddered against the carriage and set it swaying, threatening to toss it into the moat. Leona pulled the lap robe provided by Deveraux closer about her.
    Maria glanced up at the darkening sky. "I hope the rain waits until we are safely in the castle. I fear it will be a deluge."
    The carriage turned right again to follow the inside curve of the castle wall. Leona and Maria slid to the other side of the carriage to look up at the old keep. It stood stark and alone against the gathering gloom. Closer, it was easy to tell it was no longer habitable