Chapter 1
Bringing a tankard of ale to the coachman who was waiting impatiently, the tapboy glanced curiously at the window of the opulent carriage. Just as he did so, a gloved hand appeared between the folds of lace, and pushed the curtain aside. A white face peered out. Not white from fear, Ned realised immediately, but naturally fair – so pale that he could almost fancy the young woman was a ghost. Dark curls peeped out from a straw bonnet, and her shawl swirled with strange colours and patterns he’d not seen on a lady of quality before. Her eyes appeared to be enormous as they darted about curiously, taking in her surroundings.
The yard of The White Hart was nothing out of the common way; Ned knew that. There was not much to look at indeed, unless she enjoyed the sight of the ostlers scurrying about as they exchanged the horses. She must have agreed with him, for her hand began to lower the curtain – but not before her eyes fell on Ned, standing transfixed, while the coachman slowly downed his refreshment. Her chin lifted haughtily at Ned’s impertinent stare, and then the lace curtain abruptly fell.
“Here, lad! Take the cup! What are you staring at?”
Ned was shaken out of his trance, and embarrassed, he lifted his tray so that the coachman could relinquish his tankard. But curiosity got the better of him, and he asked boldly, “Who is she?”
“Not for the likes of you, lad!” the coachman snorted in amusement as he lifted the reins. “She’s a Russian Princess, and we’re off to London. You’ll not be seeing her again!”
Left standing in a cloud of dust, Ned gazed after the carriage as it bowled out of the yard, through the gates and on down the London road.
~
For a real Regency romance, pick up a Georgette Heyer book today! The Toll-Gate is one of my favourites: romance and adventure on the high-road rolled into one. Here's what Queen Magazine had to say about it back in 1971 when this edition was printed:
‘Georgette Heyer is famous for her delightful Regency romances, and there is a modern sophistication about her handling of them that makes them irresistible. She has innumerable admirers already, but there must still be some who only wait to be awakened to her spell. Let them wait no longer before joining the happy circle of her readers.’