When Amy and Lucas are forced by circumstance to work together, their lives immediately grow more complicated – in the best way possible, of course. Below is the first Ruined by Nature excerpt, including some bickering, some slowly dawning chemistry, and one big lie that is sure to lead to a world of trouble. Enjoy! 

“There’s another one!” Amy yanked on Lucas’s arm and pointed at the carriage speeding around the bend. “Is that a mail coach?” The horses gave no indication of slowing as they thundered up the rough dirt path toward them, and she took a cautious step back. One never knew when the beasts would rear up their front legs and crush her. “Go out on the road and wave them down.”

“Would you like me to be stampeded by a team of horses?” He stayed in place. “They can see us here.”

“But they aren’t slowing down.” She nudged him toward the road and scowled when he did nothing. “Lucas!” Eagerly, she waved her arms at the driver. “Please, stop.” Her feet ached, she was covered in dust, and the sight of trees was starting to make her dizzy. The coach came closer, and the driver slowed infinitesimally, his head turning to them ever so briefly, before he kicked the team up to a higher speed and left them in a cloud of dust. Furious at their misfortune, Amy picked up a rock and threw it in the wake of the retreating coach. “That blasted, inconsiderate, bloody jackanapes!”

She reached for another stone, but Lucas caught her wrist before she could launch it. “You do realize that your temper tantrum achieves absolutely no end.”

Giving him a steely look, she yanked her wrist from his grip and threw the stone anyway. “Perhaps not, but it’s an excellent outlet for my frustration.”

“Now you’re being childish.”

Laughing in disbelief, she put her hands on her hips. “And it wasn’t childish when you threatened to leave me in the woods if I didn’t cross the stream a few hours ago and then laughed for the better part of a mile after I tripped in it and soaked my clothes again?”

His grin was unapologetic. “But you fell so completely, like a graceless stone dressed in muslin.”

It was a wonder he’d ever earned a hug from her. How maddening that he could rescue her from kidnappers, pay a hefty ransom and his horse, and then continue to act like the impossible wretch she knew him to be. Although, if she had to be honest, she had been just as impossible in return. That damned hug had muddled her mind, for in addition to comfort, she had found something baser, something more exciting that she feared to explore too deeply. Dear heavens, it was the height of ridiculousness to entertain the thought of carrying a tendre for Lucas. She was clearly traumatized from the kidnapping and edging close to madness.

An uneasy feeling crept over her at the thought. Madness was not something the Bouchards took lightly. Rumors had run rampant that her mother had gone mad over the death of Papa, leading to her tragic tumble from the cliffs at Gravethorne Castle. It was possible that she had, in a way. Devastating sadness had a way of changing a person. No one had come out and said that Caroline Bouchard had jumped of her own volition, for it was too impolite to speak of suicide in society’s vaunted circles, but Amy knew that it was the widely believed story. A village fisherman had seen her fall into the ocean, and his story had been sparse on details. Sparse enough that people felt justified in making up their own details. The whispers were quiet but not subtle, and Amy understood that her fragile reputation was not helped by the rumors of familial insanity. It felt disloyal to think of Mama in this way, for the woman had been Amy’s entire world until she’d vanished forever.

She pushed her mind back to the point at hand. “Three carriages have passed us on this godforsaken road – three – and each has ignored us as if we were – were – “

“Ill-tempered termagants with an affinity for rock throwing?” he offered.

It was most annoying when he made a good point. Sighing, she gestured to the sky. “It’s getting dark. I doubt that even you can find our way out of Lancashire in the dark with no lantern or torch.”

“How kind of you to compliment my navigational sense.” He continued with a casual pace down the road again. “If you want to find shelter, I suggest walking instead of standing there complaining.”

She limped after him, narrowing her eyes at the wide spread of his shoulders. Her feet hurt like the devil, and it pained her to think of the blisters developing under her short boots. For the last couple hours, every step had felt like walking on needles. “Have you contemplated what we will do if we have to sleep in the forest?”

“I suppose we can find you a gentle bed of moss to rest your head somewhere, Your Highness.”

“I’m more concerned about wild animals.” Amy shivered. “Do you remember Greta Foster from the bakery in Gravethorne Village?”

“Ah, yes. Greta’s a hard girl to forget.” He sounded amused, and it took that to remind Amy that she’d once overheard him speaking about the fresh-faced Greta in … intimate terms to Henry. “How is she?”

“She’s well, but her cousin is not. The last time we spoke, she told me that a wild boar tore out his neck on a hunting trip.”

“Good God!”

“He had a wife and three young children. Greta’s family is taking care of them now, so I convinced Aunt to convince Cook to order more from the bakery, which Kate told me made Cook furious.” She clasped her hands together, remembering the poor family’s anguish over their loss. “Henry would likely never recover if I were murdered by a boar.”

Lucas slowed down, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a frustrated gesture. “Amy, as much as I might like to, I cannot conjure a shelter with my mind.”

Her eyes caught on something dark and large tucked back into the heavy forest off an overgrown trail, and she staggered a dozen yards toward it until she got a clear view. “Perhaps you cannot conjure one,” she said and turned to gaze triumphantly at the stone cabin, “but I can.”

“It’s occupied.” Lucas held an arm out to stay Amy’s progress beside a ramshackle chicken coop that surprisingly had a plethora of plump birds lazing about. A goat tied to a post near the front door watched them curiously. “Stay here while I see if anyone’s home.”

“You want to leave me by the chicken coop,” she said dully. “Are you afraid that an ox of a man will answer the door wielding an axe?”

“On second thought, I shall wait here while you go to the door.”

Laughing, she made a shooing motion toward the cabin. “Oh, no. Please, continue playing the gentleman. I want to see what happens.”

He removed his hat to dust it off and smoothed a hand over his impossibly messy hair. It was a pitiful excuse for making himself presentable, but Amy had to credit him for trying. She watched anxiously as he strode up the stone walkway to the door and rapped on it three times. It felt like the day had passed before she heard the latch click and the door creak open. She limped to the edge of the chicken coop to get a better look and gasped in horror.

Instead of a man, the cabin’s occupant was an unsmiling woman of middling years, and instead of an ax, she brandished a musket. She advanced out of the house, weapon first, forcing Lucas to take a step back, and swept her eyes over the pair of them dispassionately. “I’m not at home to visitors.”

Amy’s heart sank at their hostile welcome. She lifted her eyes to the sky and shuddered as the sun continued to sink into the horizon. They only had a quarter hour of daylight left, if that. The goat made a snorting sound and approached her as if sensing her distress. It pressed its nose into the side of her skirt, which seemed like a very nice gesture until she realized the rascal was starting to chew on it. She tore away from the creature and joined Lucas, making sure that he stood between her and the goat.

“Madam,” Lucas was saying to the woman in polite tones, “I regret intruding on your privacy, but we are experiencing a bizarre difficulty today.”

Shaking her head, the woman raised her musket a little higher. “Can’t be hearing it, lad. Do you know how many star-eyed pairs I’ve had stop here asking me for shelter on their way to Gretna? I’ll admit the two of you look a little worse for the wear than the typical pests, but I cannot condone recklessness. Go on home now.”

She thought they were eloping? Of all the ridiculous things. Amy tried to stop her lips from twitching with mirth until she locked eyes with Lucas and they both started laughing. He shook his head. “I assure you that we are not headed for Gretna.”

A strand of sandy hair speckled with the first traces of gray had fallen over the woman’s eyes, and she blew it away instead of loosening her hold on the musket. “Oh, so you’ve ruined the girl and have no intention of making things right? This is not a bawdy house, lad!”

Of all things, Amy hadn’t expected to find a woman as moralizing as any drawing room matron in this secluded cabin. Her shoulders slumped as their unwilling hostess stepped back and started to push the door shut, and then she experienced a moment of brilliance. “You don’t understand,” she said, reaching out to catch the door. She grasped Lucas’s arm affectionately and prayed he would cooperate. “We’re already married.”