Hearts of Trust

by Ellie St. Clair

  “In one year, I shall look at your progress,” came the eventual reply. “I have already written to my steward there, who knows to expect you. He shall write reports to me as regards the estate and how you are managing things. Do not expect him to do everything for you, however, Benjamin. He is there to teach you should you request it of him, but many things you shall simply have to take the time to learn. If, after one year, the estate has not improved, I shall look over the reports and, if I am satisfied that you have done your utmost, then that shall be all there is to the matter.”

  “And if it is clear I have not?”

  His father chuckled. “I intend to put the fear of God in you, Benjamin, and so I shall. Should you choose to continue with your laziness and sloth, leaving your steward to handle matters while you fall back into old habits, then I shall have to consider the consequences of such actions. It may or may not include an adjustment of my will, but that will be entirely determined by what you do.”

  An icy hand gripped Benjamin’s heart, as he became aware that his father had done just as he intended and as his mother threatened. They were all used to his mother’s constant nattering, but when his father spoke as such, there was weight behind the words. Benjamin was afraid, afraid that he would not work as hard as his father expected and, in doing so, put his entire future in jeopardy.

  “I am quite sure you can do this, Benjamin,” his father said, softly. “You are a good man, a better man that you have been acting as of late. A lack of direction has left you filling the void with untoward behavior. I believe this will ultimately be good for your character. Trust me when I say that I have no desire for you to be without your inheritance. I only do this in order to assist you.”

  Benjamin managed a tight smile. “I am aware of that, Father. I confess that my own actions have shamed me. Until last evening I did not see the damage I have been causing others, nor the wastefulness of my life.”

  “Then I have every hope that you will succeed,” his father said, gravely, rising from his chair. “We will miss seeing you here, Benjamin, but you will need to remain at that estate if you are to make a good go of it. Perhaps the allure of some of the more feminine kind will become less appealing by the time you return. Mayhap you might even consider matrimony!”

  A quiet chuckle rumbled in his father’s chest as he shook Benjamin’s hand. “Be sure to write to us, to let us know how you fare. Your mother loves you as much as I do and I know she would be dreadfully upset not to hear from you.”

  Benjamin shook his head. “I believe Mama will be glad to see the back of me,” he said, miserably. “After all she has said that I have put her through and the disrespect she believes I have shown.”

  His father’s face softened. “However you feel about your mother, she acts as she does because she cares for you and wants only what is best. You are her son and she will always love you, no matter how much you frustrate her. It is one of the trials that comes with being a parent.”

  Benjamin could find nothing to say in response.

  “Now, on you go and get yourself organized,” the Duke said, leading him towards the door of the study. “I shall have the carriage brought around in an hour.”

  “An hour?” Benjamin stared at his father, thunderstruck. “I am to leave today? For an entire year?” He had thought that he would have been allowed a few days grace to get used to the idea of leaving, having a few last nights of well-behaved fun with his friends as he organized his things, but apparently his father thought otherwise.

  “The sooner you get there, the sooner you can begin!” his father exclaimed, slapping him on the back. “On you go now. Your new home awaits. Oh, and Benjamin?”

  “Yes, Father?”

  “Be respectable. Leave the maids and the townswomen alone,” his father said with a tilt of his head that implied more than he said.

  “I will,” he promised, nodding to his father that he understood his meaning.

  Benjamin made his way along the hallway, his steps slow and measured. This all seemed very well prepared. He got the distinct impression that his father had been planning this venture for some time, aware that at some point he was going to have to intervene in Benjamin’s life.

  “This will not be so bad,” he told himself, ignoring the way his heart lurched at the thought of leaving. He had never been very good at being alone. “I can do this.”

  The truth was, Benjamin was nervous. He was about to leave town, leave his family and friends without a word and travel to some far off county without knowing what on earth he was meant to do, not to return for an entire year. At least the estate was not in decline, for that would have meant a far greater struggle.

  “Benjamin?”

  His mother emerged from the drawing room, and Benjamin was surprised to see her eyes sparkling with tears.

  “Hello, Mama.”

  “He has told you, then?”

  “I think it for the best, Mama,” Benjamin replied, catching her hand. “If you knew what I did, you would be glad that I am gone from your house.”

  A look of concern passed across her face.

  “I am sorry for how I have spoken to you of late,” Benjamin continued, quietly. “I do hope that I can do what Father asks.”

  “I am quite sure you can,” his mother replied, with a fervency that astonished him. Apparently, he was not as little in his mother’s estimation as he had thought.

  “Is the carriage going soon?”

  “Within the hour,” Benjamin replied, with a quick smile. “Apparently Father wants me gone from London as soon as possible – which I unfortunately cannot protest against.”

  His mother nodded, and he bent to kiss her cheek before dropping her hand, turning on his heel, and walking away to his room.

  6

  Sophie held her breath as she stepped out of her bedchamber, clinging to the shadows. Mrs. Andrews had taken her bag down the stairs already, knowing that the master would not even glance at her, given that he was still determined to get at Sophie. That had been a few hours ago and, since then, Sophie had grown more and more nervous.

  It was not as if she did not want to escape, but her worry was about simply leaving the house. If Malcolm caught her, dressed in her warmest clothes with her cloak and bonnet, then he’d know at once what she was doing. On top of that, heading out to an unknown estate, following the directions Mrs. Andrews had given her, was quite intimidating. She had no choice, however. It was either stay here and be forced against her will or leave and start an entirely new life.

  It was a life she had no experience of, however, although Sophie knew she would give everything she had to it. As the daughter of a viscount, she wasn’t particularly well-to-do, but cleaning, scrubbing and cooking were not things that she ever had to do before. Sophie, however, was more than willing to learn. Besides which, the cook, maids, housekeeper, and other staff of this estate were the kindest people she had ever had the chance to come across. They had been her only friends in what had been very lonely months.

  Softly padding down the staircase, moving as slowly as possible, Sophie paused as a sound caught her ears. She didn’t know where it had come from. Everything in her wanted to run, headlong, down the stairs and then down the servant's staircase, but to do so would be utter foolishness. Panic swirled in her heart as she continued to wait, her fingers tightening on the bannister.

  The sound came again – and this time, Sophie recognized it for what it was. A snore. Malcolm was snoring but, to her surprise, the sound was coming from down the stairs and not from his bedchamber.

  The house was eerily dark, with only the moonlight streaming through the windows as Sophie’s guide. Continuing down the staircase, she heard the snore again and realized, to her horror, that he was lying across the bottom step.

  His head lolled, ungainly against the step, one arm draped across it, while the rest of him lay on the floor. His mouth was wide open, with the snores and occasional grunts emanating from it, his eyes completely clo
sed. That did not mean, however, that Sophie was relieved at the sight of him. Instead, terror hit her hard, making her breath catch. She was going to have to step very close to him, if not over him, if she was to get past.

  What if he was just pretending to be asleep? What if this was his way of trying to capture her? Her mind worked furiously as her body refused to move, simply staring down at Malcolm’s prone form.

  Come on, Sophie, she told herself firmly, trying to bolster her courage. Just a few more steps and you can be free.

  Forcing herself to move forward, she carefully moved closer to him, wincing as the stairs creaked beneath her feet. He didn’t even stir, the sound of his snores filling the hallway.

  “Come now, miss!”

  Startled, Sophie looked up, only to see one of the maids standing in her night things, holding out her hand towards Sophie. In the other hand, she held a single candle. The flickering light brought a reassurance to Sophie’s quailing heart, her flagging spirit slowly heartening.

  “He’s been asleep for hours -- you won’t wake him,” the maid promised, her whispers carrying across the room to Sophie. “Now hurry!”

  With a deep breath, Sophie carefully placed her feet down beside her cousin, feeling his breath catch her ankles. With a shudder, she moved down the last two stairs and away from him, lifting her skirts high. She kept waiting for his ungodly roar to reach her ears, for his strong hands to grasp at her shoulder, but nothing happened. The room was just as still as before, his snores still regular and uninterrupted. Without a backwards glance, Sophie hurried forward and clasped the maid’s hand. The girl led her down the back staircase towards the servants’ entrance. Mrs. Andrews was waiting for her, as was the housekeeper, Mrs. Smith.

  “I don’t want any of you to be in danger from him,” Sophie whispered, as Mrs. Andrews enveloped her in a warm hug. “What if he blames you?”

  “He won’t,” Mrs. Smith replied, calmly. “He’s a proud and arrogant man, who thinks he knows better than anyone else. I promise that he won’t consider for a moment that we’ve worked together to help you. We’ll all vouch for one another and say we’ve been sound asleep and that you must have done it yourself.”

  Sophie tried to smile, but could only nod. “I can’t thank you all enough.”

  “We’d never have left you here with him,” the cook replied, firmly. “He’s a menace and the way he’s been treating you is sickening. The sooner we can all find better positions, the happier I’ll be!”

  Stepping outside into the cold night air, Sophie wondered if that would ever really be the case. Servants could very rarely find a new position without a reference which meant that, most likely, Malcolm’s staff were stuck here. She was more grateful to them than she could say, and felt guilty she would be taking a position herself, due to the kindness of women here and at the new estate.

  “I’ll do what I can to help you leave here,” she promised, as the groomsman helped her up onto her horse – one of the only things Malcolm had allowed her to take from home. “I won’t ever forget you.”

  The assembled servants didn’t say another word, too afraid that their voices might carry. Instead, they waved and Sophie, pressing her hand to her heart, drank in the sight of those who had helped her. Squeezing the horse’s sides, she made her way out of the gate.

  The journey was miserable. It was cold and damp, and Sophie felt as though her very bones were beginning to freeze. She made every attempt to follow the directions Mrs. Andrews had given her, having only the light of the moon to show her the path. With every minute that passed, Sophie was quite sure that Malcolm would be following her, riding up behind her and grabbing the horse’s bridle. Then he would demand to know where she had been intending to go and would punish her for leaving. Such was the fear clutching at her heart that Sophie grew quite exhausted.

  “He will no longer touch me,” she whispered, as the cold wind wrapped itself around her, finding the chinks in her coat and pushing itself inside. Sophie shivered violently, her eyes squinting into the darkness, seeing a single glowing light in the distance.

  Was this the inn the cook had told her about? She had to hope it was. Patting her pocket, she felt the coins hidden inside, praying they would be enough to for a room as well as, hopefully, some food. The groom had instructed her to sell her horse so that it could not be found by Malcolm, and, although her heart squeezed at the thought of selling her beloved mare, Sophie knew she had no choice. She had thrown a shoe not far back and Sophie would be unable to pay a groom for the repair.

  “Come on, old girl,” she murmured, patting the horse’s flanks. “Just a little bit longer and then we shall be quite safe.”

  She was nearing the entrance when she saw a carriage pull up to the front of the inn. It was a fine carriage, one that spoke of wealth and nobility. Sophie hung back in the shadows as she saw a man step forward out of the carriage. He was tall, and the light of the wall sconce caught the fine features of his face, his dark hair flowing away from his forehead. Sophie took in the breadth of his shoulders and the muscle under his tight-fitting pantaloons, before scolding herself for her voyeuristic ways from the shadows.

  What was such a man doing at an inn in the middle of the country? Did he know her cousin? She was certain she had never seen him before, but then, she had only been with Malcolm six months and had remained in the country all that time.

  She went round the back to the stables, giving the reins of her mare to the groom who greeted her.

  “Hello, Miss,” he said. “Is this the only horse?”

  He looked around as if expecting her to have a companion with her.

  “Yes,” she replied, not providing additional information.

  “Very good then,” he said, a wide smile on his lips. “My apologies if no one was available to help you. The owner was not expecting the additional company this evening and is all in a flutter. A son of the Duke of Ware arrived unexpectedly.”

  “I see,” she said, the name ringing round her head. He must be the son of the owner of the estate she was off to. She had not believed any of the family to be in residence, which was part of the draw of the posting. She did not want to have left Malcolm only to find herself fending off the attentions of another just like him. Perhaps, however, she was mistaken and he would be kind.

  At any rate, she knew right now more than anything she needed sleep. She entered the inn, relieved to find the main entryway empty but for the wife of the innkeeper. She led Sophie to a room without event, where Sophie fell into a deep sleep for the first time in many nights.

  7

  Benjamin pushed himself up from the uncomfortable bed, rubbed his eyes and sighed. The inn did not have the most welcoming of rooms, but, thankfully, this was his last stop before he arrived at his new estate. He did not know what to expect, but he would be glad to sleep in a proper bed at least.

  Rising, he dressed himself quickly without his valet, sucking in a breath as the cold air hit his bare flesh. Stamping his feet to get some warmth back into his toes, he realized as he did that this was the earliest he had woken in some time.

  He opened the door to his room, his eyes still half closed as he emerged into the hallway.

  “Oof!” Something — make that someone — collided into his chest, causing him to take a step backward into the doorframe as he reached out reflexively.

  “Bloody he…” his curse died out as he looked down at the person he now held in his arms, having caught her before she fell, and was rendered speechless by the face staring into his. Light freckles dusted a pert nose, atop rosy pink lips and high cheekbones. The only flaw seemed to be slightly crooked bottom front teeth, yet somehow they added to the drawing allure of her face.

  The eyes staring up at him were close enough that he could see the gold flecks in them as they widened, so startled she was. She seemed to have been coming from the room next to his and must have been moving at quite the pace to have run into him so hard.

  She was just a slip
of a thing, but he stood riveted to the spot, mesmerized by her.

  “Pardon me,” she said stepping back from his arms, and after a moment of hesitation she was off, leaving him staring after her.

  Behave, he told himself. He had not yet even reached his estate and already he was quite taken with the first beautiful woman who had, quite literally, stepped into his path. He shook his head and walked from the room in search of some sustenance.

  “My lord!”

  Benjamin grimaced at the innkeeper’s cheery welcome, not feeling half as awake as he appeared to be. “Good morning.”

  “I’ll bring you something to eat in just a moment, milord,” the man continued, indicating a rough-hewn wooden table with a jug of water and something that looked like coffee already sitting on it. “Please, have a seat.”

  Muttering his thanks, Benjamin sat down, eyeing the cup with a suspicious eye. It looked more like sludge than coffee, although he could not help but enjoy the aroma that rose from it. Lifting it to his lips, he took a tentative sip – and was quite surprised to find it was not as bad as he had thought. He looked up as his coachman approached.

  “Milord, begging your pardon for interrupting you when you are to be having breakfast, but there’s a woman here who says she’s headed to your estate.”

  Mildly irritated at being disturbed, Benjamin looked up at him. “And what of it?”

  “She was asking if she might sit with me on the box, milord. She has a horse, but it has thrown a shoe and she has not the money to have it repaired.”

  “And what is this lady to be doing at my estate?” Benjamin asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

  “Of the maids, I believe.”

  Benjamin shrugged. “Very well. Let her sit up top.”

  “And what of the horse? She said she means to sell it, but there’s no time if we are to leave shortly.”