Читать книгу Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 15
Оглавление‘I think I shall go into the country,’ Madeline said on the morning of the third day after she’d fled from her husband’s house. ‘Last night, when I glanced down into the hall, I saw a gentleman I know—a friend of my husband’s. He glanced up, but whether he glimpsed me in the shadows I do not know. I think we should leave London before Lethbridge comes looking for me.’
‘We always knew we could not stay here for long,’ Sally agreed with an anxious look. ‘But where will you go, my lady?’
‘I pray you, do not call me my lady. It is best that you call me ma’am or by my name. We are friends after all.’
‘I shall call you ma’am,’ Sally said. ‘You will always be my lady in my heart. Where in the country shall we go?’
‘Are you sure that both of you wish to come with me?’
‘I shall not desert you, ma’am,’ Sally said, ‘and Thomas vows he will go wherever I lead.’
‘I have a friend in Cambridgeshire who will take me in for a while,’ Madeline said. ‘Hattie was my governess, but she left us to marry a gentleman farmer. She will allow me to stay until I can find a cottage of my own. Thomas must take a necklace and sell it for me to cover the costs of the journey.’
‘You will not sell your trinkets yet,’ Sally said. ‘Master Hobbis told Thomas that he would loan us a chaise and pair for the journey. Once we are safe, Thomas can leave us and return them and make his own way back. He has a horse stabled here and will need it in the country.’
‘I feel much obliged to you both. Thomas must thank his brother for me, but he has already done so much.’
Madeline’s throat caught. She wished that she had found a way to bring more of her jewels with her, for she would like to reward her good friends and did not like to ask so much of them. However, she could not refuse their kindness and must seek a way to repay them in the future—surely there must be a way for her to be independent?
She was determined not to be a burden to anyone for long. Hallam had promised to help her, but he had not answered her letter and she could not help being anxious. He’d spoken of calling her husband out—had he been injured himself? A terrible fear gripped her that he might be in pain or even dying.
She could not make enquiries herself for fear of betraying her whereabouts, but Thomas must go again to Hallam’s lodgings and enquire after him. Madeline would not beg for his help and so would not send a second letter, but she needed to know that he was well and not in trouble.
Accordingly, the former footman was dispatched with a pearl necklet she insisted on selling and instructed to make enquiries concerning Hallam’s health. While he was gone, Sally packed their few possessions and Mr Hobbis had them loaded on to the chaise ready for his return.
Madeline spent the time at the window looking down into the yard, standing just behind the curtains to avoid being seen whilst on the look out for Thomas’s return or Hallam himself.
* * *
Two hours passed before she saw Thomas crossing the yard. He came upstairs to them immediately. He had sold the necklet for fifty guineas, which Madeline was pleased to have, but his news was not good. Hallam’s landlady had not seen him in three days and she had heard nothing of him since he went out the last evening.
Madeline felt a surge of despair sweep through her, for she could only think that Hal had met her husband in a duel as he’d promised and been killed. Fighting the urge to scream and weep, she sank down into a chair, her hands to her face.
‘If he is dead, what have I to live for?’ she said, the tears she could not control trickling through her fingers. ‘I knew in my heart something was wrong, for he would have come to me when he had my letter.’ Unless he was angry with her, for sending him away with harsh words that night at the ball?
If only that were so.
She would rather he hated her than that he should be dead.
Thomas frowned. ‘I heard a rumour of a duel, my lady...they say a man was killed by foul play, but I do not know the details. Would you have me ask my brother to make what enquiries he may? He has friends who will discover the truth, and when I return the chaise to him he may have more news for us.’
‘Thank you,’ Madeline said. ‘How good you and Sally and Mr Hobbis have been to me. Will you take some of these guineas for your brother?’
‘He would not accept your money, my lady. Jake has a big heart and he told me he would willingly do more for you.’ What he’d actually said was that he would like to break the count’s neck for treating a lady so ill, and since he was a big strong man with huge hands, given the chance he could do it.
‘Then I can only thank you all for your kindness. I do not know what I should have done without my friends.’
Had she been forced to submit to the marquis, she thought she might very well have taken her own life. Her heart was aching, but she was determined to be brave and carry on, because her friends had done so much for her that she could not give in to her private misery.
‘We should leave, ma’am,’ Sally said. ‘Thomas, pray ask your brother to have the chaise made ready. We shall be more than two days on the road and we must seek out small quiet inns, otherwise the count will find it easy to follow us.’
‘Yes, we must be careful for all our sakes. It is not just I who would suffer if we were caught,’ Madeline said. Her friends had risked much for her sake and if Lethbridge caught up with them he would punish both Sally and Thomas, as well as forcing Madeline to return with him.
‘We’ll be on our way in a few minutes,’ Thomas promised. He patted his coat pocket. ‘Do not worry, ma’am, I am armed and I would die before I let that devil take either you or Sally.’
* * *
‘You should stay in bed another day, sir,’ Dr Phelps said as he saw Hallam up and dressed. ‘We were lucky that the fever soon passed and your wound is healing well, but I would have preferred to see you rest a little longer.’
‘I thank you for my good health. Your wife has been an excellent nurse,’ Hallam said and offered his hand, which was firmly clasped. ‘Please render your bill to me at my lodgings as soon as possible. I am very much in your debt.’
‘Captain Mainwaring, who has called every day to see how you went on, has paid the bill. He would not disturb you for you were sleeping when he called, but says he has news for you and will come to your lodgings soon.’
‘Have the magistrates asked you for an account of that shameful affair?’
‘I have given a statement in writing. You may receive a rap over the knuckles for having taken part in a duel, but I think there will be no further charges, Major Ravenscar. There are plenty to speak against the late count and you have more friends than you may realise.’
‘I thank you, sir, and will take my leave of you.’
Once he was out in the cool air of early morning, Hallam felt the pain in his arm. It had taken him four days to recover from the wound and the bout of fever that had kept him restless and tossing for the first two days. The wound itself was not serious and healing well, but the fever had pulled him down more than he liked and he was anxious.
What had happened to Madeline during the last few days? Her husband could no longer bother her, but he could not rest easily in his mind. Lethbridge had been ready to give her to the marquis.
But surely she was safe at home, preparing to wear black for her husband and instruct her advisers to arrange a fitting funeral? All she need to do now was to wait a short time and she would be free to live her life as she chose. Her husband must have left her some sort of jointure and so she would not be penniless. If she could be persuaded to marry Hallam, he would have no use for her husband’s money—but would she be satisfied to live quietly in the country as his wife? He had so little to offer her.
He could not quite forget that she had chosen to marry the count after Hallam’s father had lost his fortune. Madeline had explained that her father would have been ruined had she refused—but now that she was free, might she prefer to find herself a wealthy husband, a man she could respect and love?
There was only one way to find out. He would call on her at her London home and ask to see her. If she received him kindly, he would ask her to marry him. Out of respect for her late husband’s family, she could not marry again for at least six months, but if they had an understanding it would not matter. Hallam would spend the months between preparing his home and doing what he could to pay off his father’s debts.
He saw a cab drawn up at the side of the road and spoke to the driver, giving him the address of the countess’s home.
* * *
‘I am sorry, sir. We are a house in mourning,’ the butler said in answer to Hallam’s request. ‘My late master was foully murdered and my mistress is out of town.’
‘Out of town?’ Hallam frowned. ‘When did she leave? Do you know where she has gone?’
‘I fear I am unable to answer those questions, sir. My late master’s lawyer, Mr Symonds, is arranging the funeral since there is no one else. He is not here at the moment, but should call in later this afternoon. If you wish to know more, you might like to return and speak with him.’
‘Thank you... Answer me this, if you will—did the countess leave before or after her husband was killed? I am her friend and very anxious to find her.’
The butler hesitated, then glanced over his shoulder. ‘I understand it was the previous evening, sir, but I can tell you no more. None of us know anything, but the count was angry and—’ He shook his head. ‘It is not my place to say, but things were not right here.’
‘I see.’ Hallam nodded and thanked him, giving him a guinea before taking his leave. He was thoughtful as he walked back to his lodgings. If Maddie had left the previous night and her husband was angry, had she run away—or, more worryingly, had she been abducted by Rochdale?
His pace increased, for if she’d left on her own account, surely she would have contrived to send him word somehow? He was on fire with impatience, cursing the ill luck that had caused him to lie in a weak state for so long. Doctor Phelps was correct in saying that he needed to rest, for he was not yet himself and began to feel a little light-headed as he hurried home.
* * *
When he let himself into the house, Mrs James, his landlady, came hurrying out into the hall. She gave a little shriek as she saw him, her face stripped of colour.
‘Lawks a’ mercy, Major,’ she cried. ‘I’d given you up as dead, so I had. Not a word in four days and people asking after you—I was sure something wicked had happened.’
‘Someone was asking for me? Was it a lady?’
‘No, sir. A footman by the looks of him, handsome he was and had a nice smile. He brought a letter first and then came asking after you three days later—seemed anxious to find you.’
‘You have the letter?’
‘Why, yes, sir. I kept it in my parlour for you, just in case.’ She went back into her parlour and then returned with two small sealed notes. ‘This came that day as well, sir. I meant to give it to you, but you left and I couldn’t catch you.’
Hallam took the letters and broke the seal of the first in haste. Madeline had asked him to meet her that afternoon. Opening the second letter, he scanned the few lines and frowned. Maddie had fled from her husband because he had threatened to kill Hallam and to force her to lie with the marquis.
‘You say this came three days ago?’
‘It would be four now, sir, for it was the day after you went missing.’
Hallam cursed softly. Maddie would think he had deserted her!
‘Thank you. I am sorry to have worried you. I shall be back later.’
‘You’re not going out again, sir? It’s a raw day and you look as if you could do with a warming drink and a good meal inside you.’
‘I shall hold that thought, Mrs James,’ Hallam said and smiled at her. ‘A lady needs my help, but I shall return as soon as I can.’
* * *
Madeline stared out of the window at the countryside. It was a cold bleak day and there was a light coating of frost on the trees and bushes. The hot brick a thoughtful landlady had placed at her feet had gone cold now, but her hands were warm inside the fur-lined muff that Sally had brought for her. She was fortunate in having all the comforts that two small portmanteaux could provide. Thomas had not had time to bring more, but she must be grateful that she had so much. Had she tried to flee without their help she would have had nothing.
She would not need expensive silk gowns in the country, but had she been able to bring more, she might of course have sold them. Try as she might, Madeline could not think how she was to live without money. Lethbridge had paid her bills, but never gave her more than a few guineas to play at loo. She supposed he had wanted to make her dependent on him, which she had been. Had she planned to leave him in advance, she might have kept a valuable necklace or bracelet, which might have paid her lodgings for months. Surely there must be some way she could earn her living without being a burden to her friends?
Yet what did any of this matter if Hal were dead? Emotion caught at her throat, but she would not allow herself to weep. She must remain calm. Somehow she must make a home for herself and her friends, for they could not live on charity for ever. Hattie would take them in for a time, but after that?
It was too difficult to think about. Madeline’s thoughts returned to Hallam. He’d been so passionate, so determined to save her from her cruel husband and she feared that he had suffered for her sake.
‘Oh, Hal, my dearest,’ she whispered. ‘I pray that we shall meet again, if not in this life then the next.’
* * *
Hallam stared at the innkeeper. He was looking back at him with suspicion in his eyes and a slightly hostile manner.
‘And who might you be, sir, if I may make so bold?’
‘I am Major Ravenscar and a friend of the countess. She wrote to me, telling me that I might find her here, sir. Will you please ask her if she will see me?’
‘Ah...would you mind a showin’ me the letter, sir?’
‘Here, read it for yourself,’ Hallam said and thrust it at him. ‘It bears her seal. For God’s sake, tell me she is here and safe!’
Hobbis stared at the seal, which had been broken, but could still be seen for what it was, then shook his head. ‘You must be the cove what my brother asked me to enquire after. The lady ain’t here, sir. She left yesterday afternoon, my brother and her maid with her.’
‘Where did she go?’ Hallam asked. ‘Was it to her father’s home?’
‘I wouldn’t rightly know about that, sir. My brother told me they was goin’ into the country, but he’d bring the chaise back and take his horse what he keeps here. He’ll know where they’re at when he returns, but it will be a few days yet, I reckon.’
Hallam cursed beneath his breath. ‘Are you certain you know nothing more? I assure you I only wish to help her.’
‘That’s what the other cove said what came askin’ after her. I told him she’d gone and no more—I’ve told you more, but I can’t tell you what I don’t know. My brother spoke of going to East Anglia, but that’s all I can tell you.’
‘The other person who came enquiring—what sort of a man was he?’
‘I don’t rightly know, sir. Spoke with a bit of an accent, he did. Might have been from the north, but he weren’t no gentleman, nor were he from London. Looked as if he were a servant to a gentleman, if you ask me.’
‘Thank you.’
Hallam frowned. Lethbridge was dead and his servants believed their mistress to be out of town. Who else might look for her? He could think of only one man who might try to trace her—the Marquis of Rochdale. If he’d been prepared to forgive a large debt at the card tables for a night with Lethbridge’s wife, he must want her almost to the point of obsession. Now that Lethbridge was dead, he could gain nothing by taking his wife.
It was unnatural for a man to be so obsessed and Hal wondered what could be behind his desire to pursue a woman who did not want him—or was that it? Was it simply that he believed she had snubbed him and was determined to make her suffer for her pride?
The man must be deranged, surely?
Or was there some other reason? If there were, Hal could not fathom it. Yet he believed that Rochdale must be the man who was making enquiries about Madeline’s whereabouts.
Yes, he would try to find her now that the count was dead, for he would think her vulnerable and alone. Hallam guessed that the marquis had sent one of his servants to look for Madeline—but how could he have known she was here? Had he had someone watching the house? Or agents searching for her?
If Rochdale was searching for her, it meant she was not as safe as Hallam had supposed. Somehow he had to find her before the evil marquis did.
‘If you hear anything, will you let me know, please?’ Hallam said and gave Hobbis a gold coin. ‘If your brother returns, please tell him that Major Ravenscar is searching for the countess—and warn him that a very unpleasant gentleman may also be looking for her. He is dangerous and not to be trusted if he comes here.’
‘Right you are, sir. I’ll send word to your lodgings as soon as I hear.’
Hallam thanked him and left the inn. He walked home deep in thought, unaware that he was being shadowed. Hobbis had seemed genuine, but was he hiding something? East Anglia was a large place with many isolated dwellings and he could search for months and not find Maddie.
Where could she have gone? For the moment he was lost, unable to think of anyone she knew in that part of the country.
His arm was hurting quite a bit and he needed food. He would return to his lodgings and enjoy the meal his landlady had promised. After that he would make a plan of campaign. He was too impatient to sit around waiting for Hobbis’s brother to return.
Perhaps if he wrote to her father and told him she might be in danger, he would provide a clue as to where she might have sought a refuge...yet that would take time and he was on fire to see her.
* * *
‘That is the house just ahead,’ Thomas said and steadied his horses. ‘Your friend will be expecting you, ma’am, for I took the liberty of sending a groom to warn her when we reached the inn last night.’
‘You sent a groom?’ Madeline said. His thoughtfulness overwhelmed her and she said, ‘You must keep an account of what you spend on my behalf, Thomas. I shall find the means to repay you.’
‘It cost me nought but a bit of time, for I cleaned the stables in his place and he was glad to do it.’
Madeline accepted his word, but she still felt indebted to him for he must have been tired after driving them for the past two days, and was not used to such a manual job. However, he wanted no thanks and, once again, she could only smile and think how fortunate she was to have such friends.
She was a little apprehensive as to what her former governess would think at having three guests thrust upon her, but as the chaise drew up in the yard, the front door of the large, rambling farmhouse flew open and a woman came running out.
‘Miss Maddie, is it truly you?’ she cried. ‘Oh, lord above, how good it is to see you. Come in, come in to the warm, my dove—and your friends with you. My Bert is at work, but he will be as pleased as can be for me to have you stay, for he says I never stop talking of you.’
‘Hattie,’ Madeline said and her eyes stung with tears. ‘I am so glad to be here. May I truly stay for a while—just until I can find some employment?’
‘Employment—what’s this?’ asked the good woman, who was a deal plumper than she had used to be. ‘You’ll do no such thing while I have breath in my body. You have a home with me—and your friends too, though they might prefer their own cottage?’
‘They are not yet married, though I believe it is what they both wish for,’ Madeline said and laughed. ‘We shall stay with you for a time, but then we must find a place we can manage ourselves—and perhaps I shall find some kind of work. I might take in sewing.’
‘We’ll talk of that another time,’ Hattie Jenkins said. ‘Come to the fire and warm yourselves for it is cold enough to freeze and I dare say we’ll have snow before long.’
Maddie laughed. She’d always been fond of her former governess and missed her company when she had left to marry. Their letters had been infrequent after she married for the count did not approve of her having a friend he considered below his wife in the social scale.
‘It is so good to see you,’ Madeline said and smiled. ‘I missed our conversations. Reading poetry together...’
‘I’ve had little time for poetry of late,’ Hattie said and laughed. ‘A farm kitchen is always busy and always dirty from muddy boots, my love, but I shall enjoy talking of it with you.’
Madeline followed her into the large kitchen. Furnished with a huge dresser, the shelves of which were crammed with china, glass and pans, also a long pine table and chairs, a black cooking range, several painted cupboards and chests of drawers, it was as clean as a new pin, the red tiles on the floor polished and gleaming.
‘Your kitchen is spotless,’ Madeline said. ‘You must work hard to keep it so clean.’
‘I have some help, but Bess is away at the moment. Her mother took sick and she asked me to let her go until the good lady recovers.’
‘I should be glad to stand in for her,’ Sally said at once. ‘I can scrub floors and wash dishes, Mrs Jenkins. I’ll be glad to earn my keep—and Thomas will help your husband in the yard, if he would be of use.’
‘Well, bless you, my love,’ the kind woman said. ‘I won’t say no to a bit of a hand now and then, Sally. I shan’t take advantage, but an offer of help now and then won’t be refused.’
‘I can help, too,’ Madeline said, but Hattie shook her head.
‘Now that you won’t, my dove—leastwise, not with the rough work. We don’t want to spoil your pretty hands. I might find you a bit of sewing, if you need employment. I never find the time for it and you always did set a neat stitch.’
‘That is why I thought I might earn my living with my needle,’ Madeline said. ‘I must do something after all.’
‘But why?’ Hattie asked, looking puzzled. ‘You’ve run away from your husband, I know, for the message your groom sent me told me so—but surely you have a little money of your own? Did neither the count nor your father settle anything on you when you married?’
‘You do not know what happened after you left us,’ Madeline said. ‘I did not tell you when I wrote for there was nothing anyone could do—Papa lost everything to Lethbridge at the card tables and I was forced to accept him. My father made no settlement himself, for he could not, and the money Grandfather left me went to Lethbridge. It was meant to be my pin money, but my husband gave me only a few guineas when he felt like it. I do not know what happened to the capital, though I think it was put in a trust in my name.’
‘Cry shame on him,’ Hattie said in high disgust. ‘How could he treat you so ill? It is no wonder that you left him.’
‘You do not know the half of it,’ Madeline said. ‘I shall tell you later when we have a little time to talk.’
‘I’ll take you up to your rooms,’ Hattie said. She looked at Sally. ‘You’ll be next to your mistress—and your man can sleep over the stables for the moment. If you would care for it, you’ll find the things for making tea on the dresser. We’ll be down again by the time you’ve boiled the kettle.’
She took Madeline by the arm and steered her from the welcoming kitchen up a wide staircase to the landing above and then led the way to the end of the right-hand passage. Opening the door, she ushered Madeline inside a neat, pretty room furnished in cool colours of blues and greens with a dash of white.
‘It isn’t quite what you’re used to, Maddie, but it will do until we can sort you out,’ she said. ‘So tell me why you decided to leave him. Something must have happened.’
‘Yes, it did,’ Madeline said and described the last scene with her husband.
Hattie listened in silence, saying nothing, but shaking her head sorrowfully from time to time. ‘I never heard such wickedness in my life,’ she said when Madeline had finished. ‘The man deserves to be flayed alive, so he does. Any decent man would take a horsewhip to him for his treatment of you. Well, if he comes looking for you, my Bert will see him off.’
‘I do not think he will know where to look. I never told him where you lived, but of course my father might do so, for he may guess where I have gone.’
‘Surely he would not? Knowing what that man did to you he could not wish you to return to him.’
‘I hope that he would not, but I would rather he did not know where I am, at least until I am ready to move on.’
‘Is there no one to help you, Maddie?’
She hesitated, then sighed. ‘I believed there was, but I wrote to him and he did not come. I fear he may have been wounded or killed...’ A tear ran down her cheek. ‘Otherwise...he would have come for me, I am sure.’
‘Well, perhaps he was prevented by some circumstance you know naught of,’ Hattie said in a practical tone. ‘Does he know where to find you?’
‘No, for we thought it best to tell no one. Thomas is to return his brother’s chaise in a few days and he will try once more to contact Major Ravenscar.’
Hattie stared at her for a moment, looking surprised. ‘Would that be the Honourable Mr William Ravenscar’s son by any chance? My Bertie speaks of Major Ravenscar highly. He says that if he’d been in England at the time, his father would never have got in with a bad crowd and lost his money at the tables.’
‘Oh!’ Madeline stared at her. ‘Does the family own an estate near here? I had not realised.’
‘It is not the family estate—for that is nearer Hampshire, so Bertie tells me—but the house and land in Fenstanton came to the major through his mother. It is not a large place, but a pleasant family house and some acres of land.’
‘I did not know.’ She bit her lip. ‘Does Hal come down often?’
‘He was here a few weeks back, just before his cousin Captain Miller was married. He was talking to my Bertie about the possibility of selling the place. His father’s estate is mortgaged to the hilt and he thought selling Highgroves Hall might help pay the debts.’
‘Oh, I see. Has it been sold yet?’
‘No, for my Bertie advised him against letting it go. He thinks the major would be better off selling his father’s property and settling here. It’s good fertile land and the house is sound. Only needs a spring clean to make it a lovely family home... It’s about the same size as this house and Bertie said he would buy it if he had a son, but we’ve no children yet and it looks as if we shall not.’
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ Madeline said. ‘I know what a sadness that is. I felt I could have borne my marriage more easily had I had a child.’
‘You are still young,’ Hattie said. ‘We married late, but Bertie has a nephew who will inherit this place. He is still considering buying Highgroves, but isn’t sure whether it would be of use to him, because it is a bit too far from us to make it viable. Besides, the major said he would consider taking Bertie’s advice and keeping it rather than his late father’s estate.’
‘Then perhaps he will come again soon,’ Madeline said, praying that he was still alive. If he came down to visit his mother’s estate, he might learn where she was staying and then surely he would call on her? Even if he no longer wished to marry her, he might know someone who would give her a position as a companion or a seamstress. She desperately wanted to see him again to know that he was alive and unharmed.
‘I’ll leave you to tidy yourself,’ Hattie said. ‘The kettle will be boiling so come down when you’re ready.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Left to tidy herself, Madeline sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the softness of a feather mattress. She could be quite content here for the rest of her life, she thought, if only she had enough money to pay her way. Perhaps she could find some work that would be sufficient to pay for her board and lodgings.
She went to the dressing mirror and patted her hair. She did not intend to waste her time moping. She was safe and free of both her husband and the marquis for the moment. Until she could make contact with Hal she must make the most of her circumstances...if only he were still alive.
* * *
It came to Hallam as he was on his way to the club to speak with Jack Mainwaring. The innkeeper had mentioned East Anglia. Madeline had told him something once about her former governess. A Mrs Hattie...what was the woman’s married name? He could not recall it or be certain that Madeline had ever used it in his hearing, but he did know that her husband had a farm somewhere in Cambridgeshire.
He knew most of the farmers in the area reasonably well. Since his mother’s death he had employed a manager to look after the land and the house. He’d been down only a few weeks before Adam’s wedding, wanting to see the house again before deciding whether to sell and pay off his father’s debts, or at least some of them—or to sell what remained of his father’s estate.
Hal’s mother had come from a wealthy country family, and as Hal’s roots were set firmly in a country way of life, he thought he would be satisfied to settle for the life of a well-to-do farmer. His Uncle Philip lived in Norfolk and had a large and fine estate, but while Hallam was in France, he’d learned that his uncle had lost both his wife and daughter to a virulent fever. He had other nephews on his wife’s side, but no surviving children of his own. Hal had written to him concerning his sad loss, but his uncle had not replied, and he’d felt some reluctance to intrude on his grief.
He would go down to Cambridgeshire, Hal decided. If Thomas Hobbis came looking for him, he would leave his direction, and in the meantime he would employ an agent to help him search for Madeline.
She must be somewhere and in her position she would most likely seek refuge with someone she trusted. Mrs Hattie... If only she’d told him her former governess’s married name!
Hal’s determination hardened. He would not sit in London twiddling his thumbs, but go down to Cambridgeshire and ask a few people he was acquainted with if they had heard of the lady. At least he knew that her name had been Miss Hester Goodjohn before she was wed. Someone would surely know of her.
On his way to his mother’s estate, he would take a detour and speak to Madeline’s father. It was time that he was made aware of what an evil man his former son-in-law had been.
* * *
‘I should return the chaise,’ Thomas said when they had been living at the farm for three days. ‘My brother may have need of it—and he may have news for us by now.’
‘You will go again to Major Ravenscar’s lodgings?’
‘Yes, of course, my lady,’ Thomas said. ‘I shall discover what I can and return as soon as is humanly possible.’
‘We shall miss you,’ Sally said. ‘You will not be too long, Thomas?’
‘Never fear, I shall not desert you,’ he said. ‘When I return I shall look for an inn I may purchase, where we may all live in comfort, if my lady will deign to come with us.’
‘I cannot leave her while she needs me,’ Sally said, though a look of longing was in her eyes.
Thomas reached for her hand and held it. ‘Her ladyship does well enough here, but I pray that when I return I shall have news that will bring her much happiness—and then she will not need you so much.’
Sally watched as he mounted his horse and rode away, then went back to the large kitchen. She noticed the muddy footprints on the floor she’d scrubbed that morning and sighed, thinking that life in a farmhouse would not suit her for long. Despite Hattie’s kindness, Sally would feel happier in a nice little inn with the man she loved—but she could not and would not desert her mistress.