Beside her, Ellen already had her eyes closed, looking forward to a rest during the journey.
Olivia knew she could talk with Marianne about the dilemmas she faced. Marianne had supported her through those dark days three years ago, and helped her find her way toward recovery.
Her spirits lightened as the carriage gathered speed, trundling away from Swanbourne, and miserly Uncle Harold, toward the Chiltern Hills.
Chapter 2
Marcus, Earl of Hatfield, slowed his horse, Hector, from a canter to a walk as he rode down the track from the Folly on the hillside toward the lake. He always stopped to look at the view. That morning, the lake glimmered in the early sunshine as the last tendrils of late summer mist drifted away.
Beyond the lake, was his ancestral home of Belvedere Abbey, with its turreted tower joined to the remains of a medieval wing. His grandfather had modernized the Abbey, adding the new wing, but Marcus loved the ancient part of the building, and the great hall with its minstrel’s gallery.
There really is nowhere more beautiful than Belvedere Abbey in the autumn. I hadn’t realized I missed the place till now.
Whoever had called the estate Belvedere had chosen well, as the views across the Chiltern Hills stretched for miles in the distance. On a clear day, a white horse, carved into the hillside way back in the mists of time, was visible from the folly.
There was a crispness to the air. This was the transition between summer and autumn, when the leaves were beginning to change color, but the sun’s warmth still made a difference on days with a clear blue sky.
For a moment his thoughts wandered to his home in Italy, where he’d spent much of the last two years. After Napoleon was sent to the Island of St. Helena, he had left his regiment and settled in the rolling hills of Tuscany. He loved the heat of the Mediterranean sun, and the landscapes covered with tall cypress trees.
He had made a home in a villa there and when he had been summoned home he had expected to miss that life. The widowed Contessa Lucretzia Fiorella, who had shared many of his days, and given pleasure during many starlit nights, had spoken to him six months ago. He remembered her words and wondered if she had been able to see into the future.
“Caro, I am not for you. You are thirty-one years old, and it is time for you to take a bride and settle down. You are the son of a duke, and all great families need an heir.”
“Lucretzia, I have no interest in the life of London society or farming a country estate in the gray mists of England. My life is here, in the heat of the Italian sun. I need you in my life. If it makes a difference, we could marry.”
Lucretzia had tossed her long, blonde hair and laughed in her low sultry voice. “My dear boy, what would the Duke and Duchess of Hargrove say if you arrived at Belvedere Abbey with a wife who was ten years your senior and with a history ofscandal in her past. No, I have enjoyed my time with you, but it is time for me to return home to my palazzo in Rome.”
However hard he had tried to persuade the Contessa, she was adamant that their liaison was at an end. He had been desolate for several weeks, only roused from lethargy when a letter arrived from his mother, Elizabeth, Duchess of Hargrove, informing him that his father was ill.
The duke had suffered a seizure, and although he was recovering well, she felt it advisable for Marcus to return home immediately. So, he had closed the shutters on the Villa Montefalconi, and begun the journey back to the family estate in Buckinghamshire.
He waited on the brow of the hill for Colin, his cousin, to catch up with him. Even riding Hector at a canter, he had left Colin far behind.
“Come on,” Marcus called. “We need to be back at the Abbey before tomorrow. I’ve an appointment with my tailor in the morning and at this rate I’ll miss it.”
“You know you’ve always been the best rider in the county, and nothing has changed there. Hera and I had no hope at all of keeping up with you.”
Marcus looked down at Hera, his Italian spaniel, who was panting and clearly in need of refreshment. “Let’s stop at thelake. Hera needs a drink and the horses could do with one too,” he suggested.
Colin nodded agreement. “You’re glad to be home?” he asked “I thought you’d never return from Tuscany. Aunt Elizabeth had quite given up on you.”
“It’s strange. When I read the letter from Mama, asking me to return post haste I didn’t want to return. I had a life of ease and pleasure in Italy, but now I am back here it feels as if I’d never left. Belvedere Abbey is my home. I’ve even enjoyed overseeing the estate business; though I think Papa is itching to take that back, now his health has improved.”
“You’re right Marcus. I came looking for you this morning and found your father looking through a pile of papers that you’d left in the library,” said Colin, smiling.
“I’ll speak with Mama. It might help his recovery to take back some of the estate business again.”
“She’ll agree,” said Colin and this time he couldn’t stop laughing. “Aunt Elizabeth is very keen for you to put all your time and energy into finding a bride. She would rather you were dancing the cotillion at the assembly rooms than dealing with crop rotation at the Home Farm.”
“Stop that now, Viscount Ludlow. If I have to endure a season of balls and recitals in town, then you can join me. I noticed thatMama has been spending a lot of time at Granville Hall visiting with your mother. There will be no escape.”
“Unlike you Marcus, I rather enjoy a ball and dancing with a young lady of quality in my arms. It will be no trouble at all to join you in your ordeal.” And with that Colin urged his horse forward toward the lake.
The early morning mist had cleared, giving a spectacular view of the shimmering waters of the lake. They entered Hargrove Woods and took the winding path down the valley side to the shore The gushing sound of the stream feeding the lake always surprised Marcus.
As he jumped off his horse and guided Hector to the stream, Marcus turned his head up toward the sky and felt drawn into a green canopy of fir trees, mixed with the ancient oak, ash and willow trees.
He heard a splash and saw that Hera had jumped in, her head just visible above the water. “Colin, how about a swim?” he called.
