We should have stopped where we left the ponies, Jo thought desperately.

The first drops of rain had fallen as they led the horses along the road, and they had slowly grown more numerous. It was a drenching spring shower, but she and James had both agreed that as they were hardly going to get wetter, they might as well keep going. Sometime after midday, they'd found a small village where they left the ponies and a highly edited version of their troubles with the local magistrate. Either the two men would come for their horses and face the consequences, or the town had two new ponies; either way, Jo reckoned it was well out of her hands.

Just half an hour down the road from the town, however, the sky revealed that it had only been warming up. With a heavy crack of lightning that sent both Tempest and Gunner to half-rearing and dashes for safety, the heavens opened up. Once Jo and James had regained control of their mounts, there was a hurried discussion over whether they should continue or go back.

Jo remembered her own certainty with a bit of wryness now, almost an hour later. "It's just a spring storm. Surely, it will not last so long."

James had agreed, though he'd looked a bit more dubious, and now they were slogging along a road that had more in common with mud than with dirt track. She glanced at Tempest's ears, which were flickering back with irritation, and she knew that Gunner couldn't like it any more. She knew, however, that backtracking now might take them even longer than getting to their current point would. They had to keep going, and despite the heavy weight of her soaked skirts, she rode forward, James right to her side.

Finally, though, James whistled to get her attention. When she turned around, he shook his head at her.

"We need to find shelter. If we push them in this weather, there's too good a chance that Tempest or Gunner will fall and then we won't be able to get them up again."

Jo nodded, rain trailing down her face and making it hard to see. "We can keep going and look for cover, but we can't move too quickly."

The way was torturous, and they eventually wound up moving at little more than a crawl when the road worsened farther. Gunner stumbled twice, regaining his feet both times, but Jo knew it was only a matter of time before one or both of the horses faltered.

"Look!"

James must have eyes like a hawk. She had been keeping her eyes open for shelter of any kind along the road, but somehow, James had spotted a squat stone structure hidden from the road by a thin strand of trees. It looked ancient and decrepit in the rain, but it was far better than nothing.

When James thumped on the door, it creaked half off the ancient hinges, and he glanced at Jo. In response, she shrugged, too exhausted to be wary.

To her surprise, though there were leaks in the ancient roof, the interior of the structure was mostly dry, and the door was wide enough and tall enough that they could lead Gunner and Tempest right in.

Jo sighed. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought we were never going to be dry again."

James grinned, stripping his soaked jacket from his shoulders. "That sounds more like a finicky London miss than a sturdy Yorkshire lass to me."

She snorted in a most unladylike way. "I'll remind you that I am still the daughter of a marquess. I am used to certain comforts and luxuries. Now stop fooling around and help me see to the horses."

Tempest was still not pleased about the rain or the conditions in which they were bedded, but she was pleased enough when Jo rubbed her down with a rough cloth. It struck Jo suddenly that the closer they got to London, the less time she had with this brilliant animal.

"I remember when you were just a little thing. So small and still so fast."

"Having second thoughts?"

James had finished with Gunner, coming to stand close to her. She knew that despite everything they had been through, she should maintain a certain amount of decorum, stand apart from him, but just then, the exhaustion was too much. She stepped back from Tempest to lean against his shoulder. Even though his clothes were as wet as hers, she could feel the heat from his skin rising through them, comforting her without saying a word.

"I've known her since before she was born. I remember helping my father put her on a lunge line for the first time, I remember getting her used to having her feet handled and being brushed, how my father held her, so I could start to handle her... When she's gone, it feels like those moments will be as well."

James took her in his arms, and when he held her, the heat that usually rose up between them was more like a warm and comforting hearth fire, something that warmed her from the inside out.

"It won't be, you know. Your father lives on in the horses he bred, but he also lives in the knowledge you gained from him, the things he taught you, and the things he said. He's not gone from you, Jo, no matter what."

Jo had thought she had dealt with her father's death during the blank period after he died, when her Uncle Francis had come in and started to take things over. There were so many things to think about that she had never considered that she'd never really mourned him.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and it seemed like such a small thing to let them go now, when they were both so wet already. At some point, James took her to sit on an old bench against the wall, letting her curl against him as she wept silently. It wasn't the first time she had cried for her father or his legacy, and it would not be the last, but for the moment, it felt like enough.

Finally, wiping her eyes and sniffling back the last of the sobs, she looked up at James with a watery smile.

"Wet day, isn't it?"

He grinned in understanding and nodded. "It is. This structure looks sound enough. There's a loft above where I think we can sleep and leave the bottom to Gunner and Tempest. Shall we explore?"

To Jo's surprise, the loft area James had indicated was surprisingly dry. Though a chill still sneaked into the space from between small gaps in the stone, there was an old box of wool blankets at the rear of the space, musty and stiff, but no worse for the wear. As James made them a bed, Jo hesitated with her hands on the buttons of her riding jacket.

James glanced up at her. "Nothing's changed, you know. I didn't turn into some ravening brigand overnight who can't control himself at the sight of a woman's bare wrist."

"You're right…"

"But?"

"But it's all so improper. I know I must sound like that London miss you were making fun of earlier, but it is. We're not married, you've nearly seen me naked, and we've spent so much time alone. If anyone were here to see it, I'd be quite ruined, wouldn't I?"

James set aside the blanket and came over to her. She blinked when he cupped the side of her face with his hand, but she couldn't resist tilting her face toward his touch.

"Jo, there's nothing in the world that could ruin you. Nothing at all. Not as strong and tough and kind as you are. Ruination's for lesser beings entirely, I swear it. But... if you are worried about it, if this comes back to haunt you, I'll marry you."

Jo stared at James for a moment, and then she broke into peals of laughter. James made a noise of displeasure, sounding not unlike Gunner when they had passed a tree he did not especially care for the day before, and Jo only laughed harder.

When she finally managed to calm her hilarity, she grinned at him.

"You really do know how to make a situation lighter, don't you?"

James raised an eyebrow. "I was quite serious, and if you think that my fortune doesn't stand up to your breeding..."

"No! I'm sure that if we were to put you out for stud, you'd command an amazing price, but it's ludicrous, isn't it? You have a life in London that involves all sorts of mysterious doings and Parliament and entertaining, and though my uncle tells me that I will be well taken care of, it can't compare."

"There are things that are more important than a fortune, Jo."

"Of course, but it's ludicrous, isn't it? But thank you for the laugh. I think I needed it."

"I live to serve."

Jo was still laughing as she stripped to her shift. She mentally thanked Clarine Waters again for the wool clothes that, though heavy when wet, did wick the moisture away from her undergarments.

She spread her garments on the ground to dry, watching as James, dressed only in his breeches, did the same. Her thoughts turned to what she’d said earlier, about what stud fees he might command, and then she blushed so hard he had to ask her if something was wrong.

---