Tok tok.

Two quiet knocks came at the carriage door, just as Siara finished tightening her belt. Her stomach was churning and her fingers were fumbling from stress, but she willed herself to keep moving.

“Miss, may I check in?”

“Yes, you may.”

After a moment, the door opened to reveal a figure standing in the dark, whose features were unevenly traced by the orange light of the lantern he was holding. His cool expression turned into a frown as he watched Siara plop a frilly hat on the motionless lump sitting on the passenger seat, tugging on it to make sure it stuck on tight.

“I can’t believe you can smile at a time like this.” The young footman’s voice poured into the carriage like a hiss, being careful not to let anyone else hear him.

“It’s the nerves, Sam!” She whispered back as she peeked at him from under the brim of her hat. “How do I look?”

“Like me. It’s ridiculous.”

Siara agreed that it must be ridiculous, with the way she was dressed in Sam’s clothes instead of her own.

Suddenly, he raised his voice and sent it out into the sunless sky to keep up the ruse. “Miss, may I suggest you take another candied ginger?”

“Always so considerate of me.” A blend of anxiety, excitement, and motion sickness meant that she didn’t need to fake the slight distress in her reply.

Having done everything she needed to, Siara took one last look at the cabin. The sack of potatoes, resting on the seat and dressed as a baron’s daughter, looked like a sad shadowy shape that had trudged through a summer storm. It was the silliest thing she had seen in a long while.

At least it should buy me enough time.

In a set of very precise movements, she picked up her suitcase, stepped outside, and stood behind her footman, who was tall enough to conceal her.

Clack!

The latch of the door and a heavy breath from Sam managed to muffle Siara’s footsteps as she wormed her way to the back of the carriage. Once she was behind its dark, looming body, Sam turned on his heel and went to the portly coachman sitting in the coach box, puffing on his pipe.
Siara swallowed hard, placing her hand on her chest in a leftish place.

I just have to take it nice and slow…

While her co-conspirator did his part, she gingerly worked her way toward the towering beech trees that lined the wide dirt road. Ever more concealed by the sound of rustling leaves and grass underfoot, she slipped behind a thick trunk and pressed her back against the hard bark, managing to steady her breath and listen all the while.

“You’re good to go, but take it slow if you can.”

“Will do.”

“She says not to disturb her if she doesn’t respond within the hour, as she’s taken something to nod off, you see.”

“Alright, Sammy. We’ll take care of the Miss, no worries.”

“You’re going back now, Sam?” A third voice, nearly drowned out by its own softness, belonged to another footman who was sitting next to the coachman.

“Yes, I think this is far enough.”

A few more words between the servants echoed through the trees before the carriage began pulling forward, continuing its journey to a ridiculously faraway place. For what felt like a long while, the sound of rattling wheels and clopping hooves filled the air, until the entourage vanished from the long lane that led to Garrett Manor.

“The kitchen staff is going to have a fit if they find out about those potatoes.”

Like a lone soldier in an open field holding a star in a birdcage, Sam stood in the middle of the path with his wavering lantern, muttering.

A few moments passed before Siara willed herself to move. As she hobbled up to Sam’s side, she closed her eyes against the rising wind, which pierced his tweed jacket down to her bones. A long groan escaped her lips, prefacing her woes.

“I’m never getting changed in a carriage again. That was absolutely horrible…”

Sam’s shoulders quivered as he chuckled. Then, he held his hand out toward her. “I’ll walk you down to the main road, at least.”

Siara shook her head, Sam’s hat almost losing hold of her as she did so. “You go back. The sooner you do, the better.”

The young man shot her a look, obviously unconvinced. For a moment, she forgot about her pounding heart and let out a huffy breath.

“I’ll be fine, Sam! Isn’t that why I’m dressed like this? Here, I didn’t forget your pie.” In one fell swoop, Siara knelt down, opened her suitcase, and from it pulled out a small bundle wrapped in thick yellow paper. She jutted out her hand and announced, “It’s made with extra pecans.”

Sam narrowed his dark eyes, studying the triangular shape. Slowly, he grabbed it with his lantern-free hand.

“Now, this would make the entire household angry. How much does this single slice cost?” The smell of butter wafted in the space between them as he waved it about for every word he spoke.

“It doesn’t matter. Placating you is worth the price.”

Sam snorted against the sound of closing latches, sending a fretful white cloud into the sky.

“Extra pecans means it’s not going to last me a minute, you know.”

“Aha! So it has placated you!” Siara chirped as she shot back up to her feet, grinning.

“Barely!” His emphatic response caused his lantern to swing about like a firefly in the night. 

As always, their banter was a source of comfort to Siara. However, she knew she couldn’t relish in it now, for both hers and Sam’s sake.

“Well, here goes.” Tapping a shoe to the hard-packed earth, she mumbled under her breath, “Goodness, your feet are huge, Sam!”

“Go on then!” Careful not to shout, his words came out as a stifled growl instead. She looked up at him, smiling.

“Take care, Sam.”

The young man returned her smile. “You too. You best find a way to let us know you’re alright, Miss Siara.”

“I’ll send word by messenger pigeon if I have to!”

Then, she turned on her heel and marched down the lane, leaving behind her footman, and farther beyond him, her home.

Today was the day Siara was embarking on a four-day journey to meet her future fiancé in the capital to tie the knot on an arranged marriage. That’s what her father believed, ever eager about the event. That’s what her coachman and footman and maids believed, too. No one but Sam knew that Siara had sent a body double to live out her predetermined life instead — even if just for a morning.

She hastened into the heart of the town, where damp cobblestones were turning blue in the creeping light of dawn, while barking dogs and a cawing rooster sang into the air which was thick with the smell of freshly baked bread. The familiar scene, which was slightly unfamiliar at this hour, wasn’t something Siara was admiring — her whirring mind wouldn’t afford her the luxury.

The first part of the plan went without a hitch, but I wonder if this next part will be more challenging…

She shook her head, squeezing the handle of her suitcase.

It doesn’t matter, I can’t go back now.

Challenging or not, she was determined to make sure that what was about to transpire wouldn’t turn her plan to dust and throw it away to a wind of wasted efforts.

Siara took a deep breath and picked up her pace, pushing against icy gusts made colder still by her gnawing nerves. However, the prospect of things going well managed to put a small spring in her step.

As she headed for the train station, Siara found it was the best she had felt in a long time.