03 - Dreams of Destiny

by May McGoldrick

  “You were at Melbury Hall?” Gwyneth asked in shock.

  Violet nodded. “I started working for her when her first husband, Squire Wentworth, was still alive.”

  “The people and circumstances that connect our lives are stunning. I am a cousin to Lord Aytoun’s first wife, Emma Douglas. I have met your former mistress several times since Millicent arrived at Baronsford.” Gwyneth said excitedly. “But I want to hear about you now. Tell me what happened after you went to work for her.”

  “I became her personal maid at Melbury Hall. She is a wonderful person. The kindest woman I have ever met in my life,” Violet said earnestly.

  Vi had remained true to her upbringing as she traveled back and forth from London to Melbury Hall with her new mistress. Unlike other young girls, she’d kept away from temptation. She had no time for casual flirting. She’d remained an innocent and kept her virtue.

  “While at Melbury Hall, I developed friendships that were as dear to me as any I ever had. Some became like kin to me. People like Moses, Jonah, and Amina were like brothers and a sister to me. Have you been to Melbury Hall?”

  Gwyneth shook her head.

  “All of these good people were kept as slaves during the Squire’s time. And later on, the old healer Ohenewaa became for me the very embodiment of courage and strength in a woman.”

  “I know Ohenewaa. I have met her. She spends much of her time in the company of the dowager now.” Gwyneth interrupted excitedly again. “But please continue.”

  “Once the Squire died, life improved so much at Melbury Hall. I had many friends. People liked me. I was able to send everything I earned to my family and still live a very comfortable life. My mistress appreciated me.”

  “You were happy.” Gwyneth commented.

  “Truly.” Violet nodded. “But all good things come to an end. For me, the end came with the entrance of a certain man in my life. All my good sense dissolved like the morning dew the day I met Ned Cranch.”

  “Who was he?”

  “Ned was a stonemason who came last fall to Knebworth Village to build the new grange. He was a very handsome man. And I met him outside of the village church one Sunday morning.” She twisted a piece of rag around her fingers and remembered how every time she had gone to the village, the handsome green-eyed giant had been there, tipping his hat or making some sweet remark about how good she looked.

  “Mrs. Page, the housekeeper at Melbury Hall, witnessed Ned sweet-talking me a couple of times, and she gave me an earful about being careful. But at the time I had just turned eighteen, and I thought I knew exactly what I was doing. I was getting myself a husband.” Violet felt the embarrassment burn her cheeks.

  Despite the frigid air, the frozen ground, the dark nights, and the threatening woods, Violet met the stonemason outside of the village at least twice a week for more than a month, listening to his sweet words and his promises.

  “I…I went willingly to his bed.” She managed to get out the words. “Right after it, though, Ned’s treachery was quick to surface. He had other lovers in the village. About the same time, I also realized that Ned Cranch was a spy, paid by my mistress’s enemy to keep abreast of the news at Melbury Hall.”

  “The vile dog!” Gwyneth muttered.

  “To maklike the tters even worse, I heard that he was married and had a brood of children.”

  Gwyneth reached across and put a hand on Violet’s arm. “That is horrible. What did you do?”

  “Despite my broken heart and crushed spirit, I hoped to walk away from my mistake, forget about Ned, pretend nothing had ever happened. But reality slapped me hard, for soon I knew I was carrying his child.”

  In a panic, Violet had gone to Ohenewaa, pleading with the woman to help her lose the baby before she started to show, but the black healer had refused, and helped Violet see what mattered in life. Thinking more clearly, Vi had realized what she had to do. She would keep her child, no matter the consequences.

  “I had no choice but to come out with the truth and accept whatever came. But my mistress and Lord Aytoun were at Baronsford at the time, and fate had something different in store for me.” Violet shuddered. “One morning, I was approached by Ned’s new conquest in Knebworth Village. The girl told me of his plan to do something at Melbury Hall that night. I left immediately for St. Albans. I went to the tavern where he was staying, where I hoped I might be able to appeal to some shred of decency in him to stay away. If not, I hoped I could buy him off.”

  “Were you able to find him?”

  She nodded. “At St. Albans, I heard and witnessed the full measure of his deceit. He was meeting with Jasper Hyde, the very enemy of Lady Wentworth. Overhearing snatches of his conversation, I also learned of their plans to burn Melbury Hall and steal Ohenewaa that night.”

  Violet recalled listening in a daze. She did not know how to stop them, and yet she knew somehow that she had to try.

  “What did you do?”

  The memory of what happened next still seemed like a dream to her. “I met him in a narrow hallway at the base of a stairwell. I tried to talk him out of what he planned to do, but Ned was deaf to any explanations. He accused me of trying to steal some of his share.”

  “What happened next?”

  “I killed him.” She had driven the knife into his chest and watched the father of the child growing inside of her die a death that no one deserved. “Wicked as ’twas, I had to do it. In killing the villain, I knew I was giving my friends at Melbury Hall a chance to live. But in burying my knife in his cold heart, I also knew I was cutting myself off from my past and all those people that I loved.”

  Gwyneth sat back and stared in wonder. “What happened then? You were with child. Alone.”

  Stepping out of that tavern in a haze, Vi had known her only path led away from there. “I had killed a man. I had to go somewhere far enough away that I wouldn’t bring shame on my mother and grandmother. Or on Melbury Hall.” She let out a weary breath. “I had ten shillings and a few pence in my pocket. My only escape was to take the daily mail coach north.”

  “But that wouldn’t take you too far.” Gwyneth whispered.

  “It didn’t.” Violet stared at her callused hands. “When the money ran out, I wandered from village to town, estate to estate, anywhere that I could find work. I had no references, no place to stay, and I quickly found out that the few offers that came my way brought with them requirements othr than washing floors or serving ale. Sometimes it was a matter of days, other times only a few hours before I would be back on the road again.”

  “How long did you go on like that?”

  “Months,” Violet said, knowing at some point she had lost track of time. “Somewhere in my travels, I found myself befriended by vagrants. They were good and charitable folk, for the most part, especially when their women discovered I was with child. But as most of them were heading for the great ports and for ships sailing to the American colonies, I drifted from one group to another, and then to another if they would have me.”

  “You didn’t want to leave this country?”

  She shook her head. “All along, in the back of my mind, I worried what would become of my babe if I were to die at childbirth.”

  Often in her travels, she had been uncertain where she was, though she knew that she was not traveling so far north as to be journeying into the Highlands. She never went south of the border into England, either. After she learned one day that she was near Baronsford, Vi never strayed more than a few days’ travel from the place. She knew that Baronsford was the one place where she could leave her innocent child, knowing that the most compassionate person she had ever known would surely care for the infant.

  Violet caught Gwyneth’s solemn glance toward her belly, and immediately blurted out the rest of her story. The sadness, the guilt she felt over losing her bairn. Where she had been. Where her child was buried. The tears fell in abundance, and Gwyneth moved next to her. Her shared sorrow was real. Her words were comforting.r />
  Time passed and they talked on and on until the sun appeared above the eastern hills.

  Violet found herself actually considering Gwyneth’s offer of a position at her estate. She’d asked Vi to return with her to Greenbrae Hall and resume life as if nothing untoward had ever happened to her. The temptation was enormous, but so were her doubts.

  “There is no reason for you to keep running, Violet. Ned Cranch was an evil man intent on harming those you cared for. You did what you needed to do. You did nothing that was not completely justified and even valiant. You prevented a huge disaster in the making. I say you should consider yourself a hero.”

  “I am a woman. I shall hang for killing the stonemason.” Violet knew the reality of what she would face. “I shan’t bring more shame on those I’ve left behind.”

  “Nothing of the kind shall happen. Your life is your own, and you owe no one any explanations. Whoever knew and cared for you will be relieved to learn that no harm has come to you. You are back, but at the same time, you shall be no burden to them. You shall have your own means of supporting yourself.”

  “Things are not so simple. People knew of my connections with Ned…and there was the crime.”

  “As far as anyone knows, there was no crime that involved you,” Gwyneth interrupted. “Who knows you killed Ned? Did anyone see you? Anyone who would recognize you today?”

  “Probably not. But that is not the point. I know what I did.”

  “If you are so guilt ridden with what you did, then why have you not already returned to England and turned yourself in to the magistrates.”

  “I was with child. I could not…” Violet’s voice wavered and she paused. The emptiness inside of her was vast, but she didn’t want to think of her lost child at this moment. “Very well, perhaps I didn’t want to be caught. Perhaps I do believe Ned got what he deserved. Still, I am not ready to chance the danger of discovery. I would just as soon go away from here…forever.”

  “But that is no easy road, either.” Gwyneth touched Violet’s hand gently. “You are young, beautiful, and sure to be considered fair game by all the Ned Cranches of the world. Worse than when you were at Melbury Hall, you are now alone. No one will help you unless they receive something in return. How many groups of travelers will allow you to travel with them as a beautiful unmarried woman? You might capture a son’s or husband’s attention. To make matters even worse, you are English, and that will inevitably raise their suspicion.”

  Violet knew Gwyneth was right about all of it. Before, she’d had no other options and no real future. But now…

  “You are in so much trouble yourself.” She looked into Gwyneth’s face. “If the person who is blackmailing you succeeds, you’ll be left with nothing.”

  “I shall have some income from my writing.”

  “You do not need another person dependent upon you.”

  “I haven’t lost anything yet. And if I do, we shall take things as they come.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think of it. We shall not starve. At first, I might not be able to earn a great deal, but we can each support the other,” Gwyneth said passionately. “I truly believe there was a reason for you and me to meet like this.” She looked up at what was left of the abbey’s walls, at the rolling hills around the ruined building. “Something brought us to this old abbey. Each of us is desperate in our own way. We have neither a place nor someone to turn to. We can help each other.”

  “You shall be doing more for me than I could ever do for you.”

  Gwyneth shook her head sadly. “I am alone, Violet. I have always been alone. I have no mother. No sister. There has been no one in my life in whom I could confide. I could use a friend. Someone to help me see things clearly, to make good decisions, to be my companion. I believe you were destined to be that friend.”

  Violet smiled nervously. “That is an enormous charge you are laying on someone who has not done one right thing in her life.”

  Gwyneth extended a hand toward her. “Will you accept my offer?”

  She would be close to Baronsford. It would be inevitable that she would see Millicent again. She would need to have some kind of explanation for her actions so many months ago. There might even be hard feelings because she was accepting Gwyneth’s offer and working at Greenbrae Hall, instead of resuming her old position. But then again, why would the new Countess of Aytoun want to have anything to do with her, anyway?

  And then there was Gwyneth. The two of them had begun a friendship tonight such as Violet had never before experienced. There was a trust that each of them instinctively felt. For the first time in her life, Vi sensed that she had an opportunity to find a place that was truly secure. She also believed that they could help each other.

  Everything was confusing, but for the first time since leaving Melbury Hall, doors were being opened to her. There was even a chance that she might someday see her mother and grandmother again. At least, she might be able to send them money she earned. She wondered how much hardship the two women had endured in the months she’d been gone.

  “I am frightened,” Violet admitted.

  “I am, too. But running away will not solve our problems. We must face our fears.”

  Violet blinked once, making certain she was not dreaming. The sun was moving higher in the sky. The colors of valley below were bright and clear. Gwyneth sat quietly before her, waiting for an answer.

  “Do you think you are well enough to travel this morning?” Violet finally asked.

  *****

  Robert, the caretaker at Greenbrae Hall, did not wait for a messenger from Lady Cavers to start readying the house for family and guests. Captain Pennington’s visit last night had given him all the notice he needed.

  The steward, the housekeeper, and a handful of servants customarily arrived from London and Edinburgh a few days ahead of the family. Lady Cavers’ personal maids, of course, traveled with her wherever she went. Miss Gwyneth was not one who required much fuss, and usually accepted the help from any of the serving maids who were not busy with other chores. Men and women of the nearby villages and towns filled the rest of the staff for the household, the stables, and the grounds, as they were needed, and early the next morning, Robert sent one of the lads from the stables to take the news as far as Melrose. The skeleton crew already at the house was put to work opening windows, airing the rooms, and firing up the great ovens.

  In the midst of all of this, Robert’s concern over Miss Gwyneth disappearance grew as the day grew later. She was a gentle soul, a kindhearted lass the serving folk were more than happy to serve. And unlike her guardian, who could barely tolerate to be at the country house—unless she had company—Miss Gwyneth would stay months at a time at Greenbrae Hall if she could. This was another thing in her favor. From Robert’s way of thinking, it was good to have the house open and busy, and it provided steady work for everyone.

  Robert and those he talked to couldn’t wait until the young woman inherited the house and the estate, which made her present disappearance even more distressing. Already shorthanded, he told himself, he could do little, though. Captain Pennington was already looking for her and twice today, grooms from Baronsford who were helping with the search had come over to see if there was any word from Miss Douglas. Robert wished he could give them some news, but he had none.

  The two tired travelers riding the single horse arrived long after the nightfall. The lad in the stables who had gone out to meet them told Robert later that the two were dressed so shabbily that he just assumed that they were vagrants…and maybe horse thieves. He’d been shocked when one of them turned out to be Miss Gwyneth.

  Robert was fetched immediately and, despite Gwyneth’s objections, everyone at Greenbrae Hall was awakened and put to work. The caretaker was no physician, but frm the bloodstains in her hair and the stiff way she held one shoulder, it was obvious that the mistress was hurt. The young woman accompanying Miss Douglas knew exactly what ailed Gwyneth and appeared to be
competent in caring for her.

  “I have no need of a physician,” Miss Gwyneth said adamantly when Robert suggested it.

  With the help of the companion and a serving maid, they managed to take Gwyneth upstairs to her room. Robert immediately went to the stables himself. He usually minded the young mistress, but he was not going to allow anything to happen to her while he was around. She was too precious. Finding the stable lad with the horse she’d ridden in on, the caretaker ordered him to ride to Baronsford with a message. Robert knew Captain Pennington would be out looking, but Lord Aytoun would know how to find him.

  *****

  Her own room. Her own bed. She was clean and once again wearing her own clothing. Most importantly though, Gwyneth was back in the house she loved—the only one she’d ever considered home.

  “This must be the calm before the storm,” Gwyneth told Violet, once they had been left alone.

  “They won’t rest unless a doctor is brought in,” Violet said quietly as she straightened and tucked the sheets around the bed. “And that is only right. You had a hard fall, and you cannot assume that the blow to your head will heal on its own.”

  Gwyneth’s gaze wandered contentedly around the room before focusing on her friend. Once she herself had been settled, Violet had given in and cleaned up, changing into one of the dresses Gwyneth gave her.

  “The color blue is becoming on you. It matches your eyes.”

  “You are avoiding what must be done.” Violet said as she folded and tucked a blanket on the foot of the bed.

  “Stop working and sit down with me. I do not want you to be my maid. You will not be a servant in this household. I want you to be a companion to me.”

  “I will do what needs to be done. I intend to be useful and earn my keep,” Violet asserted.