She tried to endure the afternoon by making herself invisible, but another member of the party made that impossible and was the cause of her thudding heart and trembling hands. Caville Sharp had fixed his gaze on her all afternoon, insolently smirking whenever she met his eye. Yet he did not approach her, nor would he, for Mrs. Talbot had come as a chaperone and was seated with the other ladies’ maids a short distance away.
‘Damn you, Gilbert, my friend, you have secured the most beautiful, fashionable lady in the whole of London. I am riven with jealousy,’ declared Caville. He smirked in Grace’s direction, ignoring his new wife, Lady Arabella Chomley, a plump little thing with mousy hair and sallow skin. The young woman’s cheeks reddened and not from the heat, and Grace seethed at Caville’s cruelty. He had married the woman for her fortune, but why humiliate her with such open disdain? It only served to harden Grace’s resolve never to have anything to do with him, no matter what her uncle said.
Lydia fanned herself furiously. ‘I need respite from this heat. I fear I might swoon at any minute.’
‘Then I will catch you,’ said Caville flirtatiously, turning to her with outstretched arms.
Lydia giggled. ‘Oh, are you not the most shameful man, Caville Sharp, with all your teasing.’ He leaned over and whispered something in Lydia’s ear, and she laughed, her friends joining in.
Arabella’s eyes swam with tears, and Grace could no longer stand the company. Caville’s back was turned, so she stood up. ‘I think I will take a walk down to the river. It might be cooler there. Would you like to accompany me,’ she said to Arabella.
The woman glanced at Caville, who was too engrossed in flirting to notice. ‘I would,’ she replied. They both strolled off, but no one paid them any heed.
Grace linked arms with Arabella. ‘They have not noticed we have gone. So we can get some peace at last.’ She smiled and received a sincere smile in return.
For a while, they enjoyed the cool of the river, moving away from their party into the shade of a group of willow trees at its edge. Arabella was a quiet little thing who did not seem to require much conversation. She made a few remarks on the hot weather, the beauty of Harriet, and how handsome Gilbert was. Eventually, she said, ‘I think we should return to the others, or my husband will come looking, and he will not be pleased.’
‘If you like,’ said Grace.
Arabella frowned, and her eyes glistened. ‘I know Caville admires you,’ she said suddenly. ‘He makes no secret of his other life. Indeed, he likes to tell me about his mistresses every chance he gets.’
‘I am not his mistress,’ cried Grace.
‘No, not yet, I know, but Caville always gets what he wants. He is tireless in all things. Forgive me for saying it aloud, but you seem honest and a little kinder than the other ladies, and I would rather confront my humiliation than fall prey to the games he plays. We are newly married, and I had hoped for respect if not love, but my illusions have been dispelled rather quickly.’
‘I am sorry, and I swear I have no intention of becoming his mistress.’
‘I hope for your sake, you do not,’ she said, grabbing Grace’s arm with such a look of despair that no reply came to mind that would possibly comfort her.
‘Why? What has he done for you to fear him so?’
‘I must return, or there will be consequences. I am glad we had a chance to talk.’
Grace watched her stride away, head down – a pitiful sight. She bit her lip hard to stem the tears that threatened at the woman’s plight, but was she not equally trapped? She sighed out at the river. It was an idyllic scene, with the water sliding by and swallows swooping for flies, but everything was turmoil, ugliness and worry.
A pounding sound had Grace turning to see an enormous black horse barrelling towards her. It looked fit to run straight into the river before its masked rider pulled it to a sliding halt, reached down and scooped Grace up in his arms before she could utter one word of protest. He whirled the horse around and sped away from the river, clutching her tightly.
‘Who are you? Let go of me,’ she cried, but he did not reply, and they rode furiously out of the park to the outrage of several onlookers. But there was nothing they could do to help her, and Grace had a terrible feeling that Caville Sharp had a hand in her current danger.
That fear was quickly dispelled when they reached a carriage, and she was bundled off the horse and inside. Her captor followed and tore down his mask.
‘You!’ she cried.
‘Indeed, it is. Good afternoon, Miss Howden. You and I are going to take a little trip,’ said Rawden Voss with a broad smile. He leaned back against the red silk seat and smirked.
Grace’s heart sank. If she thought Caville Sharp was the worst thing that could happen to her, she was about to be proved wrong.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Into your future.’
‘What? I have to go back,’ she cried. ‘I will be missed. My party will come looking for me.’
He shrugged. ‘I sincerely hope they do.’
‘Why would you do this? It is madness.’
Rawden leant forward, and she leapt back. ‘I do not like getting no for an answer, and by day’s end, all that will change.’
