She'd heard from Henry that Anne had spent a fortune on the girl. Expensive lessons, clothes, and even jewelry. And she'd take any bet that Lady Fraser hadn't paid a penny to have her daughter kitted out. Thank heavens for Mr. Kettering, otherwise Lord Kingston's relatives would take every penny that Kingston had left Anne.
Miss Bywater entered the room and looked outraged. "You told your man — "
"I told my footman to pick you up and carry you, yes," Catherine said impatiently. "Now sit down, Miss Bywater, and pay close attention to me."
Catherine pointed to a sofa opposite her chair, and narrowed her gaze on the young woman until she capitulated and sat down. "Who is waiting for you at Rayburn Manor?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Of course you do." Catherine glared at her. Mentally she priced the girl's wardrobe. Anne hadn't stinted. The girl's morning gown was of ivory cambric, the sleeves fastened with silk ribbons — expensive, made by Madame Lola. The shawl: Indian cotton, peach-colored, and trimmed with silk, which was delicately embroidered. Also expensive.
Catherine pushed thoughts of dress aside. "Lady Kingston has been much too kind to you," she said. "I warn you that I'm not Lady Kingston — I'm nothing like her at all. I can make your life more difficult than you could ever believe if you dare to challenge me. Now tell me the truth. Rayburn Manor."
The chit looked like a rabbit caught in a snare, but Catherine didn't smile.
The silence lengthened. Catherine almost smiled then. She would get the truth out of the chit, and she would do it now. Catherine was very fond of Anne, and the thought that this young lady had dared to make a game of her sister enraged her.
"I'm engaged."
Finally. Catherine schooled her features to remain expressionless. "Are you now? Tell me about the young man."
"Robert Carlisle — he's the steward at Rayburn… That is, we're not truly betrothed but we could be. My mother doesn't approve… I told her that I wanted to marry him and she sent me to Lady Kingston. I will marry Robert Carlisle."
"So, the man is totally unsuitable?"
"He suits me."
"But not your mother?"
"No, not my mother."
Catherine reflected for a moment. "Your mother sent you to Lady Kingston in order to have a season. You'll have that season. From this moment onward, you will obey my sister in everything. Should you decide that you can't do that, you must not imagine that I will return you to Rayburn Manor. You will not return there, until you are married, unless your mother sends for you."
"That's outrageous. How dare you?"
"Let me tell you what will happen if you decide that you can defy me. I will send you to a very lonely estate in the highlands of Scotland. You will be in effect, a prisoner. For all I care you can remain there until you're an old lady. Is that what you want?"
"I'll run away!"
Catherine chuckled at that. "Certainly — run away. You'll be found, and then I will immediately send you to Scotland. Decide, my girl. The choice is yours. You can have an easy life, as you can see… My sister has done her best by you. Fashionable clothes, a new hairstyle, jewels, and lessons to turn you into an accomplished young lady." She paused for a moment, then without a change of tone or expression, she said: "You're an ungrateful baggage."
Eva Bywater's eyes grew wider. Her face was white. "But I love Mr. Carlisle."
Catherine shook her head, and sighed. "What has that to do with anything? You imagine that you love him, and I have nothing to say to that. If your mother decides that she will agree to your marriage to this Carlisle person, that's up to her. However, she sent you to Lady Kingston to have a season, and a season you will have. I hope that you're paying attention, and that you understand me."
Miss Bywater's face grew even paler. For the first time, she looked frightened.
Catherine waited. "Tell me that you understand."
Finally, in a very small voice, Eva Bywater said: "Yes."
Catherine was under no illusion that she'd scared Miss Bywater into submission. Of course the girl would run away, that was guaranteed. At the moment, she was in shock, but that wouldn't last.
The girl would need to be watched. She sighed. She knew how it would be. Miss Bywater would try to run away, tonight, or tomorrow. She'd be brought back, but of course Catherine wouldn't send her to Scotland immediately.
If the chit persisted however… and there was another act of defiance, off to Scotland she would go. And by the time the season began next year, Eva Bywater would return, chastened. And obedient.
She was tired of the chit. "Go now, and remember what I said — it's Scotland for you, my girl, if you fail to mend your ways."
Eva knew that she had to get away. As soon as she returned to her rooms after speaking with Mrs. Grove, she ordered Beatie to pack. She would need to organize a horse, and have that horse saddled and waiting for her later that night.
She could do it. All it took was a little money. She paid a groom who promised to have a horse waiting for her at the second turn in the long driveway which led to Sommerforth Abbey.
The day proceeded as it usually did. Eva had made friends with several young ladies, who admired her fashionable clothes. They played cards after dinner.
Beatie wanted to accompany Eva, but Eva refused to allow it. "There's only one horse. He can't carry both of us. I'll send for you as soon as I return to Rayburn Manor — but I daresay you wish to serve Lady Kingston."
Beatie looked down at her hands. "No ma'am – you will be alone. You can't cross the country alone. It would be beyond anything. You will be compromised. No lady rides alone."
"Stop worrying. I'll be there within a couple of days. It's not so far."
"Ma'am, forgive me, but it is. You know that you won't be there in a couple of days – it will take a week and more to return north… Perhaps two weeks. You can't do this."
"I can't stay here." Eva didn't tell Beatie that Mrs. Grove had threatened to exile her.
Eva was terrified, but also defiant. How dare Mrs. Grove tell her what to do? She would go home, and that would be the end of it. She would tell her mother that she would marry Robert Carlisle or no one at all.
She had decided that she would go to London first, because London wasn't too far away. She had the jewelry Lady Kingston had given her. Some of the pieces were expensive — old, family pieces, which Lady Kingston said that the old lord had given her.
Eva knew that she would be able to find someone who would buy the jewelry. Then she would get a seat on the mail coach and begin her long journey home.
Eva managed to steal a key from the housekeeper's room. And that night, for several minutes, after Eva had unlocked a side door and had stepped into a courtyard, she thought that she had escaped.
"Miss Bywater, may take your bag?"
She knew that voice. She wasn't even surprised. It was Mrs. Grove's footman. Doyle. Eva gaped at him. She could barely see him in the darkness but she knew his voice.
"Your bag, miss," he said firmly. He took the bag and she was forced to release it. "Come along now, I'll take you back to your rooms."
He stepped behind her, and shoved her forward, far from gently.
Eva shook with fear. Scotland. She knew that Mrs. Grove had meant what she said. "Please — don't tell Mrs. Grove. I won't try to bolt again."
Silence.
Eva planted her feet. She couldn't go back into the grand house, she couldn't. But Doyle surprised her.
"Very well. I won't say anything. This time. Bolt again, Miss, and you're for Scotland… Now get on, get inside!"
Next morning, Thomas brought Anne a note from Lord Delmere.
Catherine's footman, Doyle, had just left Anne's rooms, after telling Anne about Eva's attempt to bolt. Anne was a little afraid of Doyle. She was well aware that he was more than a footman. Catherine mixed with some extraordinary people.
Catherine had explained to Anne that she must expect that the girl would try to escape at lea
st once. "She'll do her best. If she tries more than once however, she's off to Scotland," Catherine had said, her tone grim.
Delmere's note said merely that he had purchased two hacks from the duke and wanted her opinion of them. Would she join him when he went riding this morning?
Anne knew that she shouldn't spend time alone with Delmere. They'd be seen, and it would lead to talk. Just like the attentions he'd paid her at Peyton Park.
Moreover, she was becoming attached to him, and that would only lead to misery for her. She'd refused his gift of Midnight. But she liked him, and that was the danger. She might become infatuated with him, and that would be extremely foolish. She had no wish to marry again — and neither did he.
What if he offered her a more informal connection? He wouldn't, she thought. That would be beyond anything, and she'd never given him any indication that she would be open to an offer of that kind.
During her one and only season, Anne had become infatuated with a very suitable man, an earl. He'd paid her attention, riding with her in the park, and at Richmond. But he'd never indicated that his courtship was in any way serious. Nevertheless, she'd found herself thinking of the earl often during her unhappy marriage.
She shook her head at her own foolishness. Like the earl, Delmere was a fantasy to her. She sighed. Then she flushed. What would Delmere think if he knew that… No, she would think of something else.
Delmere had been nothing but kind to her. He had been a true friend. She valued his friendship, so she told the footman to thank his lordship and to say that she would join him shortly.
Delmere swept into a deep bow as soon as he saw her. "My lady, allow me to tell you that you look a positive picture. Is that a new riding habit?"
Anne flushed. "Yes it is," she said. She had had the habit created in a dashing military style. She knew that it suited her well — the dark blue wool of the jacket brought out the sapphire blue of her eyes.
He held out his arm, and she rested her fingertips on it. She was very conscious of him, and decided that she should simply enjoy riding with him on a cold winter's day.
Catherine had asked Anne to invite Delmere to the Boxing Day Hunt at Gostwicke Hall. The great and good from the county took part. They also had many guests from London. Over the years, the Gostwicke Hall Boxing Day Hunt had become a ton tradition — that tradition had been enhanced when Sommerforth began courting Elaine and joined them for the day, leaving his own guests at Sommerforth Abbey to do so.
"I'm sure he's set for Christmas somewhere," Catherine had said. "But you've stayed with him and Lady Tertsville at Peyton Park, so we must extend an invitation to our Hunt, and to the Hunt Ball that night. I'll send invitations to them. Ask him."
So she did. "My lord," Anne said."We would be honored if you would join us at Gostwicke Hall for our Boxing Day Hunt."
She saw in his eyes that he was about to refuse, but she wished that he'd agree — why did she wish that?
"Yes," he said then, to her surprise. "Thank you."
His swift agreement confused her, and she made no reply.
Delmere led her into Sommerforth's enormous stable yard. "Sommerforth had two hacks for sale, and I couldn't resist them," he said. "I don't need them, of course. I've too many horses in London already. But tell me what you think."
A small man in a snowy neck cloth, rough brown jacket, and riding breeches, lifted his hand to them and crossed the yard towards them.
Anne recognized him. He was Sommerforth's head groom. He bowed to them both. "My lord, my lady. I've just sent for the two hacks, sir. Will you be riding them this morning?"
"Shall we try the horses?" Delmere asked Anne.
She nodded. "I'd love to."
A moment later, two tall, showy hacks were brought from one of the stable blocks, a chestnut and a black. They had pretty heads, elegant conformation, and intelligent eyes.
"I'll take the black," Anne said quickly. She had a weakness for black horses. True blacks were rare. Many horses which were born black later lightened to grey.
She patted the hack's neck, looking for white hair in his mane.
"Name's Toby, ma'am," the head groom told her. "I've looked too — he comes from blacks going back several generations, so black he'll stay."
Delmere laughed. "Another black — I thought that you might take him."
His comment "another black" referred Midnight, of course. Anne's face flamed. Quickly, she asked the groom a question, and the uncomfortable moment passed.
A minute later, when she had led her mount to the mounting block, she glanced back at Delmere and saw that he looked chagrined. She realized that he hadn't meant to discomfit her. He'd misspoken, and she forgave him immediately, her heart warming to him even more.
Two grooms and Thomas accompanied them when they rode out of the stable yard, but the men rode well back, so that Delmere and Anne could speak privately.
They rode mostly in silence. However the silence was comfortable. Anne pointed out some new tenant cottages which the duke had had built. She knew the estate well, having spent weeks at Sommerforth Abbey when they were preparing for the duke's marriage to Elaine.
Tenants worked the winter fields. The people on the estate were happy and they waved to Anne and Delmere when they passed.
"What's that?"
Anne looked to where Delmere was pointing with his riding crop. "It's a pony. Why, it's saddled… But — where is the rider?"
She and Delmere had been riding along a bridle track. They'd just emerged from a small wood. Ahead of them was the rough road which led to Sommerforth village. On the other side of the road, a saddled and riderless pony galloped across a plowed field.
"The child…" Anne nudged her mount into a canter. She crossed the road and pointed Toby at the hedge.
The horse didn't balk. He soared over the hedge. Anne didn't want to ride him across the furrows, so she trotted him around the edge of the field to reach the grey pony.
Delmere followed her.
His grooms were immediately behind him and he waved them forward to catch the pony. "The pony came from that direction." He pointed with his crop, and quirked an eyebrow.
Anne agreed with his unspoken question.
Delmere cantered around the furrows and jumped his horse into the next field. Anne followed.
The next field was lying fallow. Anne's heart dropped when she saw a small bundle on the ground in the middle of the field. She followed Delmere, cantering across the wheat stubble to reach the child.
Delmere dismounted, and Anne joined him. Please don't let the child be dead, she thought. She slid from her horse. Thomas arrived, dismounted, and took the reins of Delmere's horse, and of Anne's.
Anne bent over the child. She was breathing. Thank heavens for that. The child was curled on her side, her face hidden by a mass of auburn curls. Her small fists were clenched. Anne knelt in the wheat stubble. "My dear, we've caught your pony," she said calmly. "Would you like to sit up?"
"Who are you?"
"I'm Lady Kingston and this is Lord Delmere." To Anne's relief, the little girl sat up.
Anne almost laughed when she saw how disgruntled the child was. Mud covered the side of her little face. Anne's hand reached out to smooth the mud away, then she drew it back — the child wouldn't appreciate it.
Anne recalled that in her childhood she'd felt just as cross whenever she'd been tossed from her pony. "What happened? Did he shy?"
"It was a rabbit, ma'am — it ran out right in front of him. It's not Strawberry's fault. Where is he?"
"He's safe. A groom will bring him along directly… Now, where is your groom?" The child couldn't be more than ten years old, she thought. She shouldn't be riding alone. "Would you tell me your name?"
The child was Frieda Briggs. Her parents were staying at Sommerforth Abbey, she informed them.
Strawberry was her new pony, Miss Briggs confided. She wanted to ride him, but her mother had told her that she must practice her stitchery. "I d
on't like stitchery."
"Oh, I do. I enjoy it very much," Anne assured her, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. "You must show me your latest practice piece, and I will show you what I'm working on — a sleeve for Sommerforth's new court attire."
"I'd rather ride," Frieda said. She looked Anne up and down rather scornfully.
Anne covered her mouth with her hand to hide a grin.
"Here's Strawberry!" Frieda released her hand to run towards the groom who was cantering across the stubble, leading Strawberry from his mount.
"Miss Briggs has decided opinions," Delmere said.
"Yes, she has." When she looked at Delmere, she realized that he was looking at her in the way that always made her tingle. Warmth spread from her belly right up into her face.
Anne turned away from Delmere, and focused on the child. Was Miss Briggs hurt? The child moved easily enough, so she hadn't been badly injured. But she was bound to have a bruise or two.
They needed to return her to the Abbey and her parents quickly. Her hand had been cold, and the ground was wet.
"Perhaps you could ride with the groom?" Anne asked Frieda. "And we could lead your pony?"
"No, I want to ride alone," Frieda said mutinously. "Watch me. I ride very well — you'll see. Strawberry shied at the rabbit, and — "
Anne lifted her hand. "I'm sure that you ride very well… " Anne said. "So, Miss Briggs, allow the groom to set you on Strawberry, and we'll return you to the Abbey. I daresay you'd like some crumpets and jam? I know I would… riding always gives me an appetite."
"Ma'am?"
Thomas brought Anne's mount, and was about to kneel, so that she could use his thigh as a mounting block, when Delmere interrupted. "Allow me."
Before she knew what he was about, Delmere set his hands on Anne's waist. He picked her up as though she weighed nothing at all, and set her into the saddle.
Anne's left leg trembled when he helped her to find the stirrup.
She rode away from him without a word, following the groom and Miss Briggs.
The Lady And The Man Of Fortune_A Wicked Secret_The Eardleys Of Gostwicke Hall, Book 3 Page 11
