She frowned at the passing view, such as it was.
“Consider it a new adventure,” her aunt advised. “You have had a season in town, now you will become acquainted with country living. I imagine there are many reputable families in the area. You have only to recall your new acquaintances, Mrs. Dawlish and her daughters, to be reassured.”
Helena did like Mrs. D. and she was obliged to her, to be sure. And Flora had been nice enough, once she had overcome her shyness and talked a little.
But still, Helena was convinced that all country suitors would be like Mr. Galveston, and she could not abide the thought of marrying such a man.
Nor could she abide the thought of living forever with Aunt Fanny.
Doubtless some hideous match would be arranged and she would be obliged to wed a man she despised.
“Perhaps we shall get a little dog,” Aunt Fanny said brightly.
Helena sighed again. She had no desire for a dog.
“And look!” The carriage lurched as it took a turn, and evidently the road they continued upon was both narrower and rougher. “We take the turn into Haynesdale! Doubtless these are the woods said to thickly cover this estate. It is rumored, you know, that Robin Hood plied these very forests.”
Helena sat up with new interest. She could be abducted by a dashing outlaw, compelled to ride by his side, stealing from the rich to give to the poor.
He would have to be a local man, in disguise; a nobleman, to be sure, but one cheated of his inheritance, determined to benefit the people as much as his wicked relation had abused them.
She peered into the forest on either side of the road with curiosity. The shadows were dark, sunlight filtering through the trees to illuminate spots in the distance, a clearing or a flashing stream. She shivered in delight, imagining that a dangerous rogue watched their progress, planning his scheme to steal her away.
“There! Your mood is evidently improved. We will get a little dog,” her aunt continued. “Soon enough, you will have your first glimpse of Haynesdale Manor, but better yet, we will linger at Southpoint for a night before continuing on to the Bramble Cottage.” Aunt Fanny gave a rapturous sigh. “Even the name is satisfying,” she murmured with a contentment Helena did not share.
Doubtless there would be blackberries and Helena would be obliged to pick them, then make jam herself.
Her aunt blithely continued. “I would carry on without delay, but Nicholas would ensure first that all has been repaired and made ready. I cannot wait to see it, Helena!”
She continued upon the same subject for the next hour as Helena sought a glimpse of her captor and salvation, but without success.
When they finally stopped, it was late in the afternoon and the sun was lowering toward the trees. Southpoint was a tidy house, perhaps a little larger than her aunt’s London townhouse, but there was something comfortable and reassuring about the sight of it. Helena did not remember it, but she felt as if she had come home.
The house was symmetrical, a pair of doors of deep green in the middle of the façade, with large windows paired on either side. Above were five windows of goodly size, the whole of the structure made of cut stone. To the left was a gate leading to what appeared to be a garden and to the right was one that led to the stables, barely visible behind. An older man and a woman in an apron stood on the steps, obviously to greet Nicholas, with two young girls beside them.
Nicholas led Sterling toward the right gate, where an ostler met him to take the horse. Nicholas then handed Eliza out of the larger carriage, leading her to the door. Helena watched him smile and knew he made a jest, for the older man waiting there smiled and nodded approval.
Nicholas then came to open the carriage door for Aunt Fanny and Helena. No sooner were they standing before the house, than Lady Haynesdale called from the big coach. “I spoke to Eliza already, Lady Dalhousie, but I do hope that you will join me for tea tomorrow before departing for your cottage. I should so like to have your opinion upon the gardens once you have seen them.”
“We should be delighted,” Aunt Fanny said, clearly unable to resist the temptation of seeing the roses.
“And Miss Emerson, you need not fear that you will be obliged to endure too much discussion of gardens.” Lady Haynesdale had the look of a person with a secret, though Helena could not imagine what it might be. “Eliza has made a most wonderful suggestion and I intend to act upon it.”
Helena looked to find Eliza smiling at her, and wondered what jest these two had planned. Her aunt nudged her. “I cannot wait to learn of it, Lady Haynesdale,” she said politely.
“You need not wait, my dear,” that woman confided. “We are going to host a ball at Haynesdale Manor in a fortnight, and you had best bring your dancing slippers. The young men in these parts like nothing better than to dance and I wager you will be popular indeed.”
Oh!
“That sounds a marvel, Lady Haynesdale.”
“It will be, Miss Emerson.”
“Will the duke return in time to enjoy it?”
“Who can say, my dear.” Lady Haynesdale smiled. “It is years since I planned such a party, but I have not forgotten all I know. It will be the talk of the shire!” She waved to her driver, then waved farewell to all of them as the team of four horses trotted away.
“A ball!” Aunt Fanny said with satisfaction. “You might be wed this season, after all, my dear.”
