Collin and Luci fell into a fit of giggles that eventually wore down Gideon until he, too, joined their laughter.
“Well, Collin,” Luci said when she could speak plainly again, “when the rest of my things arrive, I shall be sure to loan you several wonderful adventure books. I have both The Iliad and The Odyssey, in both Greek and an English translation, but I think you shall enjoy Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift more. So long as your studies come first, of course.”
“Certainly! Thank you, My Lady, that would be wonderful,” Collin answered, beaming at what was now his new favorite resident of Ashworth Hall.
They rode on, chatting pleasantly as Luci asked further Collin about his schooling and his work in the gardens. Gideon pointed out different landmarks and interesting structures as they passed them, before letting Collin out of the wagon at his cottage.
They drove on towards the stable, Luci looking intently at Gideon. He avoided her gaze until finally he asked with mock indifference, “Is there something you wish to say?”
“Yes, there is,” she replied in a falsely formal way. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“I should think that would be obvious.”
“But you thought so some time ago,” Luci said, hinting at a deeper meaning. “You have not left my side for some time now, so you must have told the boy as such before I became ill.”
“Did I? I don’t recall when the exact conversation took place,” Gideon said, looking away. Luci smiled devilishly, aware of the game her husband was playing at.
Gideon sheepishly returned her grin when he looked her way, but then he turned very serious. “Great beauty or no, you look overly tired. I’ve taken you out for too long, I am sorry.”
“I am somewhat weary,” Luci confessed, only now realizing just how much effort she’d expended. “But I would not trade it for anything. Today’s outing was wonderful, Gideon, exactly the remedy I’ve needed. Thank you for suggesting it.”
“Anything, my dear. But come, we must get you inside now,” he replied sweetly, pulling the horses to a stop and climbing down. A stable hand took the reins while Gideon ran around to the other side to help Luci down, lifting her into his arms instead of taking her hand.
“Gideon,” she said, laughing when he did not set her on her feet. He only smiled as he began to walk towards the house, preventing her from taking a step.
“It is the least I can do after exhausting you today,” he answered, dipping slightly and using his elbow to open the latch on the servant’s entrance.
As he entered the kitchen, all eyes turned to them in surprise. Mrs. Cushings ran forward to help, assuming Luci had succumbed to illness once again, but she stopped when she heard her laughter. Gideon walked on with Luci, carrying her up the stairs while the staff exchanged amused looks.
“Well, that does beat all,” Luci heard Mrs. Cushings say with a soft giggle.
Yes, it does. Luci looked at Gideon’s adoring face. I should think that nothing shall come as a surprise to me anymore.
Chapter 21
“I should say yesterday evening was a success, Mary,” Lady Thornshire said kindly as the Duchess entered the room the next morning. Smiling though tired, she poured her sister some tea and held it out to her as she said, “Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves rather well, don’t you think?”
“I suppose,” Lady Hardigree replied, sitting in the chair adjacent and taking the delicate cup. “Though Alistair insisted on heading off to the cards and brandy long before the dancing was over. It was only through the sheer will of the young ladies in attendance and their insistence that the gentlemen dance with them, that the entirety of the roosters did not flock to their cigars, leaving us no one to dance with.”
“That is true. What a disaster that was averted. I had noticed a slow drip of absence as they disappeared one by one throughout the evening,” Lady Thornshire admitted with a laugh. “But at least they held off until plenty of merriment was had by all.”
“I know I have been… somewhat troublesome… these past two weeks, but this was an important event for Alistair and me,” the Duchess said, looking down at her tea cup before reaching for a piece of fatty meat and tossing it to her hopeful dog. “I am glad of your help with it. There were important people in attendance, and everything had to be precise.”
“Think nothing of it,” Lady Thornshire said, waving off the explanation with a flick of her hand. “This time here has given me leave to ignore the troubles I face at home. First Edgar’s business, then losing Luci, I just could not imagine sitting there any longer, peering into the empty rooms as I passed.”
“Still,” Lady Hardigree said, patting her sister’s shoulder, “I am glad of your help and your company.”
A servant entered and presented Lady Hardigree with a tray of correspondence, largely invitations to upcoming dinners and balls. There were already a few notes of thanks for the evening—mostly from those who would be departing for far-flung locations that day and not at home to send word at a later time—though it was far too soon to expect many more. The servant departed and returned with a second tray for Lady Thornshire, a pile that was smaller as she was only a long-time guest.
“Oh, Mary. At last, there is a letter from Luci,” she cried, opening that one first and holding it towards the light streaming in from a window.
“You see? And you were worried like a goose, and it was all for nothing. I told you she would send word when the time was most convenient—” the Duchess began, but she stopped when Lady Thornshire cried out. “Good heavens, Angeline. What is the matter?”
“Luci has taken ill. She was prevented from writing because she was in bed with… pneumonia. But how? How could I not know such a thing? My own child had fallen ill and I knew nothing of it.” Lady Thornshire stifled a sob, remembering at the last moment how her sister despised tears.
“Well, how could you have known? You are not a traveling sideshow clairvoyant,” Lady Hardigree said, sniffing disdainfully. “But what does it say, how is Luci now?”
Lady Thornshire read it silently to herself, her eyes roving the page rapidly as she took it all in. Finally, she breathed a sigh of both fear and relief.
“She writes that she is much better now, but that the doctor said her condition is still rather precarious,” she said, reading until she had to turn the page over. “But as soon as she is well, she and Lord Ambergrave shall travel to see us. Oh Mary! I must make preparations to depart at once.”
“What? You cannot leave now, you hardly slept at all last night,” the Duchess said wisely.
“But I cannot know when she sent this letter. For all I know, she and her husband have already departed for Stonefield and I will not be there to receive them.” Lady Thornshire was silent while she made her decision, but then nodded firmly. “Yes, I must go at once.”
Lady Hardigree floundered for an argument that would dissuade her sister, but she could think of nothing that would stay her. As she thought, Lady Thornshire plucked out the remainder of her letters and examined each one.
“Oh Mary! This letter is from Edgar!” she cried out again, although happily. “Surely he must not know of poor Luci’s plight.” She read over its contents while her sister waited patiently for any news. “No, he must not, he has not mentioned it. Although I am very glad to say he has made payment on a ship and it has already delivered its first cargo. The weight of the cargo and the value of the goods has provided him sufficient profit to make the next four payments on the vessel.”
“That is astounding news. How wonderful for Edgar,” Lady Hardigree cried, taking her sister’s hand. “Most investors must share their profits with their partners and use the bulk of it to support themselves. Fortunately, with Lord Ambergrave’s money, all of this is sheer profit for Edgar. Your situation will be greatly improved in no time at all.”
Lady Thornshire put down her letters and hugged her sister tightly. She whispered tearfully, “Thank you for that kindness. There are those who would instantl
y blame a man of business the moment his dealings fall through. You are a rare gem who sees Edgar in much the same way I do. He is blameless in the loss of our fortunes.”
“Yes, Angeline,” the Duchess said, sitting back and looking at her sister squarely. “You must remember that always, even when the news is less uplifting. Edgar’s only fault was in trusting someone to keep their word. Always be a comfort to him, and never chide him for this error.”
“I wouldn’t consider such a thing,” Lady Thornshire said rather hotly. “He has done everything a wife could ask of her husband for all these years. Why, this situation could have happened to any one of us. If I should ever have the opportunity to speak of my feelings on the matter to the villain who abandoned Edgar’s company, rest assured that I will not finish until I have had my say.”
“That’s the little firebrand I remember from our childhood,” Lady Hardigree said, laughing heartily. She turned serious, though, a compassionate look in her eye. “But yes, now I see that you must go. Go to await Luci’s arrival and greet her properly, but also go to celebrate your husband’s success. Let him know that his hard-won efforts are not without your appreciation. This must have been a terrible ordeal for you both, but he has not had the benefit of a sister to visit and take his mind off of it.”
“Thank you, Mary, for everything,” Lady Thornshire said softly. She brightened and jumped up from her seat and said, “I must make ready at once.”
The sun had already set for the evening when Bradley dared to leave his lodgings. He had spent several days holed up inside like a mouse when the cat is near, fearful of venturing out. Every time he had so much as moved the curtain aside to peer at the street below, he was certain he’d spied those three men—or others who looked like them—waiting for him, watching his door from near the corner.
“Are you heading out, My Lord?” his servant asked. “And at this time o’ night?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bryce,” he answered, still piling items in a small valise. He turned to the stooped old woman who served as cook, maid, and housekeeper, the only servant he still employed, though that was largely in exchange for her room and keeping. He grimaced and said, “I shall be gone for a matter of days, but I will send word of when I expect to return. Until then, no one is to be received or allowed inside. Is that clear?”
“Aye, My Lord. No one comes in,” she repeated, a somewhat fearful look on her face.
“Very good,” he said with a firm nod, then scooped up his bag and headed out through the kitchen. Through an acquaintance in the postal service, he’d managed to secure a seat on the mail coach that would carry him through the night. It would deposit him a lengthy journey from his destination, but with luck, he would secure passages with passing carts or wagons.
It will all be worth it, Bradley thought darkly as he waited for the mail coach to pass behind his building. Your days of shrinking about like a shrew are nearly at their end. The list of people who shall pay for their ill treatment of you is not long but it is varied, starting with that vapid, betrayer of a wench, Luci.
Standing alone outside in the blackness of night, Bradley’s anger only strengthened him by some small measure. He still jumped at every sound, at every scurry of a cat on the prowl. By the time the large, nondescript coach finally arrived, he threw his valise on the floor and climbed in, settling on the hard, wooden bench and leaning against the window.
He attempted to sleep away the hours of the journey ahead of him, but at every stop of the coach and the accompanying shouts of workers loading or unloading the parcels from all around him, Bradley was startled awake again. His sour mood was only made worse by the coarse greetings and rough language of the men nearby. They knew nothing of him or his station, and worse, they did not seem to care.
“Aye there, sir, you’ll have to stand up for a bit,” one of them even called out, addressing him crudely. “We’ll get these bags in here good, then you can recline on them.”
“Recline? On the post?” Bradley asked, certain he hadn’t heard the man correctly.
“Aye. The post has to get there, not you,” the man said, laughing scornfully. “Be glad yer bum can fit on top with all these bags.”
Bradley fumed silently, knowing that an insult in reply would likely cost him this seat. Instead, he added the circumstance to the growing list of injustices he’d endured, spurring him on in his intentions.
I will have what’s owed to me, he thought angrily, balling his fists before climbing back up in the coach to continue on. There will be those who pay for what they’ve done.
As the coach bounced and jostled over the unkept road, Bradley stewed at the injustice of it all. He should have been traveling at that moment in a fine carriage pulled by horses his stablemaster had selected for his transport. He should have left home at a reasonable time, safe from scoundrels who prowled around in search of him. He should be traveling to some destination for a holiday or on important business, perhaps with a wife beside him, a wife who would provide him children to inherit his vast fortune and title.
Instead, none of that seemed likely to come to pass. He was being treated like a common stowaway, traveling by night like a thief escaping the authorities, while wedged among worn canvas sacks of letters and lumpy parcels. The indignity of it was somehow worse than the reality.
“Only a few more days,” Bradley whispered aloud, soothed by the words he repeated to himself even as he punched down a canvas sack to make it more comfortable for the next part of the journey. “I shall have all that I desire, all that should be rightfully mine.”
Chapter 22
The journey to Stonefield Park was as pleasant as Luci could hope. The weather had continued to be fair, a propitious thing since she doubted she’d ever find thunderstorms to be anything other than terrifying after her ordeal. The enclosed carriage was luxurious, though a bit stifling after weeks shut up inside, at least until she pushed open the window to allow some breeze to enter.
The only damper was Gideon.
“Is something the matter?” Luci asked for at least the fifth time that day, though all of her previous attempts had only been met with a somewhat curt response or an offhand excuse.
Gideon shook his head, smiling weakly. “No, nothing at all. I just don’t enjoy long journeys, that’s all.”
She started to speak again, but Gideon had already turned to look at the surrounding countryside, effectively ending any discussion or attempt at conversation. Instead, Luci concentrated on the book she’d brought with her for the long journey as Christina was already engaged in a quiet nap.
Many hours later, Luci was grateful for the appearance of her childhood home in the distance, her worries about Gideon’s somber mood already dissipating as she envisioned her parents’ welcoming embraces. This, at least, turned out not to be a disappointment as both of her parents were already standing in front of the immense house when the carriage arrived.
“Luci! Come here,” her mother cried, already winding her arms around Luci’s thin frame before she’d even departed the carriage.
“Mother! It is so good to see you,” Luci cried, returning her embrace. “And Father, you as well.”
Gideon and Christina were momentarily forgotten in the joyful reunion, but soon enough, Luci extracted herself from her parents’ arms and gestured to them.
“And you remember Lord Ambergrave?” she said, then added, “And Miss Ross is returned, as well.”
After the greetings had been exchanged, the group ventured into the house, Lady Thornshire still keeping a tight grip on her daughter by winding her arm through Luci’s elbow. They spoke hurriedly, the mother immediately inquiring about the girl’s health.
“I am much better now,” Luci said, intentionally avoiding any answer as to how she had come to be ill in the first place.
“All the same, I should like for our physician to see you,” Lady Thornshire said firmly. “He has tended to all of your childhood maladies and injuries, and I trust his judgment above all o
thers.”
Luci noticed how Gideon bristled beside her, yet said nothing. In fact, he had said very little since Stonefield first appeared in their sight, as if his earlier quiet had been replaced by absolute silence.
Luci was determined to brush it off.
He may only be suffering a sense of shame, from the knowledge that there was another who once commanded my affection. I did remind him most cruelly how he had swooped in like a falcon and stolen me away without my consent, just as that bird plucks a poor mouse from a field.
Inside the house, Gideon bowed courteously then turned to follow the footman who would lead him to his chambers. Luci and Christina exchanged the briefest glance, though Luci could not miss the look of consternation of her governess’ face.
“It has been an overly long journey. If you do not need anything, I think I should like to go lie down,” Christina said as they neared the sitting room.
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