by Kruger, Mary
Thea opened the door noiselessly, turned back for one last look, and then was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Evadne cracked open the door and peeked out. Good, no one was about. Carrying a satchel in one hand, a box in the other, she ran lightly down the hall on stockinged feet, hoping no one would hear her. It was early morning, and the only people stirring should be servants. With luck, her disappearance would not be noticed until late morning, and by then it would be too late. She would be well on her way home.
The front door was standing open, which meant that Gregg was around somewhere, but Evadne didn’t see him as she slipped out, stopping only to put on her shoes. Following the drive as it curved around the house and rose to meet the Dover road, she nearly broke into a run. She had an appointment to keep. She was going to meet Mr. DeVilliers and let him take her away from this poky old place. And, she thought with a little thrill of excitement, teach Mr. Thorne a thing or two!
A howl issued from the box, and Evadne glanced hastily around. “Be quiet, Fluffy!” she hissed, and the cat howled again. “Hush! We’re going home, Fluffy. We’re finally leaving.” The cat meowed again, piteously this time, and she set the box down, crooning to it, until the cat had quieted. Then she rose, continuing on her way. Mr. DeVilliers had indeed offered her a solution to her problems last evening: leaving Moulton. If she did so, Francis would have to act, if he wished to see her again. She would go home to Berkshire, escorted by Mr. DeVilliers, and there wait to see what developed from her flight.
At last she reached the top of the hill, and, looking down toward the road, saw a traveling carriage of antique design waiting. It looked decidedly uncomfortable, but Evadne didn’t care. She would show them, she thought. Stanton surely wouldn’t want to marry her now. She would finally be free of him. If Francis chose to come after her, so much the better.
“Hello!” she called, and ran down the hill, toward the carriage and the man who stepped out from behind it. At last, she was taking her life into her own hands.
Thea, too, rose early. She hadn’t slept at all the night before; her mind was too full of memories and thoughts of the bleak future ahead, without Jeremy. She wanted nothing so much as to run back to his arms and tell him that she would take him on any terms whatsoever, but she couldn’t. Hard as leaving him would be, sharing him would be worse. This was, she told herself yet again as she finished packing, the best way.
A sunbeam came in through her window and shone into her eyes, dazzling her and making her blink back the moisture that had collected in her eyes. As if drawn by the sun, she went to the window and looked out. In the distance the Straits of Dover sparkled golden, and the lawn below glowed emerald. Thea’s heart contracted. How could she bear to leave? She had come to love this house almost as much as she loved the people within. Once she left, she would never see it again, and oh, how lonely her life would be. One more ride, she thought, turning toward her wardrobe and pulling out her riding habit. She would ride once more about the estate, and then she would be able to bid it good-bye.
“Thea!” A voice called to her as she strode toward the stables, the heels of her boots crunching on the gravel.
She turned. “Gillian!” she exclaimed, and went down on one knee just as the little girl reached her, throwing herself into Thea’s arms. Thea held the trembling little body close. “Gillian, honey, what is it? Whatever are you doing out so early?”
Gillian’s chubby arms tightened around Thea’s neck. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Oh, honey.” Thea rocked her back and forth. “I don’t want to, either, but I have to.”
“But I don’t want you to!” she wailed. “Why can’t you stay and marry Daddy?”
Thea closed her eyes against the pain that brought. “Honey, I can’t. Your father’s going to marry Miss Powell and then you’ll have a new mother.”
“I don’t like her.” Gillian pulled back, her lips set in a straight line. “She doesn’t like me, either.”
“Oh, honey.” Thea rested her hand on the child’s dark curls. “Your father loves you, Gillian. It will work out.”
“I wish you could be my mother.” Gillian’s clear blue eyes, so like Jeremy’s, gazed at Thea with complete honesty and trust, and Thea again closed her eyes.
“Gillian, sometimes we can’t get what we want,” she said, softly. “You know that. We have to do the best we can, with what we can.”
“But it’s not fair!”
“No.” A child’s cry, but true, nonetheless. It wasn’t fair. More people than herself would be made unhappy by Jeremy’s marriage. “I’m going for a ride, kitten. Would you like to come?”
Gillian’s struggle with herself was mirrored in her face. In spite of her newfound accomplishment, she still feared horses. Thea was proud of her when she nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” Thea took her hand and they walked toward the stables.
That morning would always have a dreamlike, bittersweet quality in Thea’s memory, as she rode over lands she had come to know, and love, almost as much as she loved their master. There was the paddock, where she and Gillian had spent so much time, the fields she’d ridden over with Jeremy, the beach where, with both of them, she had felt part of a family. It was all precious to her, and it was all lost.
The horses were getting winded as Thea and Gillian topped the rise from which they could see the entire estate spread out. Thea turned to look at it, and her eyes blurred. This was good-bye. After today, she would never come here again.
Gillian tugged on her sleeve. “Thea. Thea, look. Isn’t that Miss Powell?”
“What? Where?” Thea turned in the saddle, to look in the opposite direction, where the Dover road was just visible through the trees.
“Down there. Isn’t it?”
“Good lord! Yes.” Thea stared, transfixed, as Evadne, a bag in either hand, ran toward a carriage at the side of the road. A man came forward to help her, a tall thin man, and Thea recognized him with a shock. “Good lord!” she said again. “Mr. DeVilliers!”
“Who is he?”
“Oh, that little fool,” Thea said, softly, ignoring Gillian for the moment. If Gillian hadn’t guessed what was happening, Thea had quite a good idea. Even at this distance, the smile on Evadne’s face was obvious. The silly little ninny was eloping with Roger DeVilliers.
Well, let her! she thought, turning away. If Evadne left with someone else, then Jeremy would be free. Free to marry her? Of course, after last night! But, Thea reluctantly admitted, he had not said he loved her. He had never said that. He had asked her once to be his mistress, and never, by word or deed, had he shown he thought of her as anything more. What guarantee would she have that he would marry her, if Evadne left? Oh, if she told him about the child, he would, of course, but she didn’t want him to marry her from obligation. And what would he say if he knew that she had sat here while Evadne went blithely to her ruin, and did nothing about it? “The idiot!” Thea exclaimed.
Gillian glanced up, curiously. “Is she leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, good, then you can stay!”
Thea frowned. “No. Gillian.” Thea turned to her. “You must be very brave. Do you think you can be?”
“Yes. What do you want me to do, Thea?”
“I want you to ride back to the house and tell your father about this.”
“No! He’ll only bring her back, and I don’t want her!”
“Gillian,” Thea said, firmly. “You must be a big girl. Your father must be told. Will you go?”
Gillian swallowed, hard. “You mean, ride back all by myself?” she said, in a small voice.
“Yes, honey. Do you think you can?”
Gillian looked toward the road, where the carriage was moving, toward Dover, and swallowed again. “I think so.”
“Good girl! Now, go, fast as you can, but be careful!”
“Will you come back—”
“Yes! Go, Gillian!” Thea’s heart was in her thro
at as she turned to watch Gillian ride away, but to her relief, the child seemed steady in the saddle. Oh, lord, of all things to happen, she thought, slapping the reins and setting her mount into a trot, toward the road. Who would ever have thought that she’d be doing so much to keep Stanton with another woman?
The carriage had a good start on her, and her mount was not fresh, but Thea was a very good, and a very determined, rider. Within a few minutes she had reached the road. Speaking words of encouragement to her mount, she increased their pace, until at last they had closed the distance and were riding in the carriage’s dust. If they were lucky, no one would hear of this ridiculous escapade and Evadne’s reputation would be safe, though why that should matter escaped her.
She judged, at last, that she was close enough to the carriage to be heard. “Hallo!” she yelled over the noise of carriage wheels and pounding hooves. “Stop! Stop, I say!” There was no apparent reaction, and then, suddenly, the carriage speeded up.
Thea muttered an oath and bent over Maggie’s neck, urging her on, until at last they were close. “Stop,” she cried again, half-expecting the carriage to speed up. Instead, it slowed, forcing her to drop back to avoid a collision. Just when she was congratulating herself on having won the day, the carriage came to a lurching, jolting stop, slewed halfway across the road.
“Mr. DeVilliers!” Thea called, walking her horse toward the front of the carriage and ignoring the sounds that came from within, Evadne’s shrieks and the banshee wail of a cat. “Come forward, sir!”
From the box of the carriage came a distinct “Damn!” Roger jumped down, his driving coat swirling about him, its capes flapping, and stood there, glaring at her. “What in hell do you want?” he demanded.
“What do you think you are doing?” Thea replied.
“Leaving with Miss Powell.” He leaned back against the carriage, his arms crossed and a wicked smile on his face. “I should think you’d be glad.”
“For God’s sake, have you no care for her reputation?”
“Go away,” a muttered voice came from inside the carriage, and Thea sent it an exasperated look.
“I cannot let you do this, sir.”
“You can’t stop me,” he pointed out.
“No, but Stanton can.”
Roger grinned. “But he won’t know, will he, Althea?”
“Yes, he will. I sent back word.”
“Damn! Why did you have to meddle?” Roger put his hand to his hair in frustration, and then snatched it away. “You’ll have to come along.”
“What? Of course I won’t, sir,” she began, but her voice faltered as he withdrew his hand from his pocket. In it, gleaming in the sun, was a serviceable-looking pistol, pointed directly at her.
Thea froze. Beneath her Maggie danced restlessly, but she hardly noticed. Her entire being was focused on the gun. “Please, sir,” she said, her voice shaky, “put that away. You won’t need it.”
“I’m afraid not, Althea. Come.” He stepped over to her, holding out his free hand. “Down with you, now. And don’t think to try anything.”
“N-no, I—”
“What, does this little thing scare you?” He gestured with the pistol, and she shrank back. “Good.” His smile was devilish. “Perhaps you’ll learn a lesson. I had no intention of compromising you, as well,” he went on, taking her arm in a rough grip and dragging her toward the carriage, “but it can’t be helped.”
“Is that what you’re planning on doing with Miss Powell? Compromising her?” Thea said, finding her voice.
“Of course. How else am I to secure her father’s permission to marry me? I need her money. In with you, now.” He opened the carriage door and thrust her in, roughly. “And don’t forget, my dear. I have this.” He held up the pistol, and Thea shrank back. Smiling, he backed away, slamming the door closed.
Thea somehow found her courage. She sprang forward, reaching for the door, but at that moment the carriage started with a lurch, and she was thrown back against the seat. Her chance for escape was gone. As the carriage gathered speed, she was left, sprawled on the seat, staring at an obviously disgruntled Evadne.
“You’ll be leaving today, then,” Jeremy said as he walked toward the stables after breakfast, for his customary ride about the estate.
“Yes. I thought Thea wanted to make an early start, but she’s not in her room,” Francis said, frowning.
“Gregg says she went out riding with Gillian. I expect they’ll be back soon.” And then, he thought, he’d straighten out this nonsense about leaving.
“Of course, but we probably won’t set off till noon, at any rate.”
“No.” Jeremy glanced quickly at the other man. There had been a time when he could have sworn that Francis and Evadne—but Francis was leaving, and Jeremy was still engaged. For now. After last night, his betrothal was an annoyance he wished only to put behind him. He would speak to Evadne today. What would Francis do then, he wondered, and was considering telling him his plans, when the sound of a horse being ridden very fast reached him.
“Daddy!” Gillian road around the corner of the house, her eyes huge in her pale face. “Oh, Daddy!”
“Gillian! Are you hurt?” Jeremy ran forward to catch the pony’s bridle, and Gillian tumbled off into his arms. “Where is Thea?”
“I was brave, Daddy,” Gillian said, her arms about his neck, her voice muffled. “I was.”
“I know, poppet, I know.” Jeremy spoke soothingly, but his eyes, meeting Francis’s, were worried. “Where is Mrs. Jameson?”
Gillian pulled back. “Daddy, we saw,” she began, and went on to tell what had happened, starting with her first sight of the carriage and Thea’s attempt to catch it. Several times during the tale Jeremy and Francis looked at each other in astonishment, but, by the time she was through, they each looked grim.
Jeremy set Gillian down. “Go on back into the house, poppet,” he said, patting her back. “And next time, let Miss Moffett know where you’re going.”
“Yes, Daddy. I bet Miss Powell’s just gone for a ride.”
“Yes. Now, go on with you,” he commanded, and turned back to Francis, whose mouth was set in a thin line. “Damn it, who the hell is it?”
“She’s eloping,” Francis said flatly. “We have to stop her.”
“Yes,” Jeremy said, but he didn’t move as Francis strode toward the stable.
“Aren’t you coming?” Francis turned, tapping his foot impatiently. “We’ve got to stop them.”
“I imagine Thea already has.” And why she couldn’t have let well enough alone, he didn’t know. In any event, he would not marry Evadne now. Her flight had given him the excuse he needed to end the engagement.
“In that case, they could both be in danger,” Francis said crisply.
Alarm flared in Jeremy’s eyes, and he began to run toward the stables. “Damn. We’d better go, then.”
“Toward Dover?” Francis asked, as they mounted and rode out of the stable yard.
“Yes. I can’t think where else they’d go, unless—” Their eyes met. “Damn! He might be taking them out of the country!”
“Then we must hurry.”
Jeremy’s mouth set in a grim line. “You go on. I have to go back to the house for something.”
“What?”
“My pistols. Go! I’ll catch up with you.”
“I’ll wait.” Francis’s face was grim, too. “Have an extra gun for me?”
Thea breathed deeply in an attempt to still the erratic beating of her heart. Events had moved so quickly that she was stunned, off-balance, not quite certain what to do next. She only knew she somehow had to get herself, and Evadne, out of this predicament.
She looked across to the other seat, where Evadne was sitting, gazing out the window, her lips set in a stubborn pout. “Are you all right, Miss Powell?” she asked, and Evadne turned to look at her for the first time.
“You’ve ruined it all!” she burst out. “Oh, why did you have to come around me
ddling, anyway?”
“But—” Thea stared at her. “Surely you didn’t want this?”
“Of course I wanted it! Did you think I wanted to spend the rest of my life in that poky old house with—with—Stanton? He’s so old! And he’s mean. He wouldn’t even let me keep Fluffy!”
As if in agreement, the cat, trapped in his box, let out another howl. In spite of the gravity of the situation, Thea felt a smile tugging at her lips. “I do wonder if Mr. DeVilliers knows what he’s getting into.”
Evadne tossed her curls. “He’s been very kind. A perfect gentleman. Not like some I can name. And he likes Fluffy.”
“Really.” Thea bent her head to hide her smile. “But are you really sure he’s the husband for you?”
“Husband!” Evadne stared at her, and then started to laugh. “Oh, really, Mrs. Jameson, you are just too absurd! Why would I marry him? Why, he’s almost as old as Stanton!”
“But—that’s what he said—”
“He’s taking me home,” she said, simply. “I told him what life has been like with Stanton and that I couldn’t bear it anymore and he offered to take me home.”
“But why couldn’t you just tell Jeremy and break the engagement?”
“Don’t be a goose! Do you suppose my mother would let me? Besides, Stanton wants to marry me.”
Thea, remembering last evening, wasn’t so certain. But there had been no words of love, she thought again, and her spirits dropped. “Nevertheless, I’m sure he’d release you if you asked.”
“Well, now he has no choice, has he?” Evadne said, coolly. “I imagine this will cause no end of a fuss.”
“I imagine it will.” Thea looked at her, consideringly. In her own way, Evadne was quite as formidable as her mother. Jeremy was well out of that match.
“And then you had to come along and ruin everything,” Evadne went on. “I don’t know what Mr. DeVilliers will do with you. We can’t take you along, but if we leave you—”
“The alarm’s been given already, Evadne. I sent Gillian back to the house.”