‘Oh, they can wait a few more hours, I’m sure. And I am longing to stretch my legs after the carriage ride.’
‘Very well.’
We made arrangements for our luggage to be delivered and set off on our familiar route across the fields, chatting about what kind of cake we hoped there would be and wondering how much baby Evie had grown.
The mile-and-a-half walk encouraged our appetites, so we were starving by the time we reached Ashbury and ran up the front steps. The house looked as grand and wonderful as it always did, and I marvelled that Harriet was its mistress. I rapped on the front door with the knocker, eager to see her.
‘She is probably running to the door right now,’ I said over my shoulder to Jane. But when I turned back, it wasn’t Harriet standing in the entranceway.
My mouth dropped open.
‘Hello, my love,’ said Max, his voice gruff with emotion. ‘Harriet wrote and said she’d asked you to stay, and I travelled down forthwith as I could not wait a second longer to see you. So here I am.’
I burst into tears and flung myself into his arms, and he held me tightly. Oh, I never wanted him to let me go!
***
Our two-week visit to Ashbury whizzed by in a flash. Soon, Max and I were back at home in Derbyshire, and I was picking up the threads of my old life. Six weeks ago, I had been restless and eager to seek out excitement. But now that I had had a taste of it (and almost lost my husband and home in the process), I was quite content to live quietly and appreciate every moment, especially when it came to Max’s abundant kisses and cuddles.
The only inkblot on my happiness was that I had not told him about certainthingsthat had happened at the castle—namely that Mr Hart had professed his feelings and then tried to seduce me.
When we were at Ashbury, I had given him a watered-down version of the tale—that we had been fooled by Mr Hart in Bath, but he had shown his true nature whilst at Hartmoor. However, the details of how this had come about, I glossed over, saying vaguely that it had become ‘obvious’ to me by his manner and speech (here, I mentioned his distasteful reading ofTeaching Mollyin the parlour to back it up). But there was such a lot I had to leave out that he only glimpsed the peak of a buried mountain.
Fortunately, Max accepted what I told him withoutquestion and said he was grateful that he had married such a smart woman. He added that Seraphina should not have sent Lucinda to Bath as it was such a disreputable place, and what had she been thinking?
To that, I replied that something good might still come out of it and mentioned how Mr Harrington Hart had called on us the day before to apologise for his brother. I told him the story of the man’s stolen fiancée and Harrington’s request to write to Lucinda before he left. Max joked that it would be a satisfying end to the story if he did end up marrying her as it would be recompense for his blackguard brother stealing Rose.
The next night, Ashbury’s cook had presented us with a raspberry tart and a side jug of cream for dessert—both of which I wholeheartedly declined.
***
One night, a couple of months later, I was perusing a letter from Jane on the parlour sofa whilst Max read a book in his armchair. Shortly after, I became tired and told Max I was going up to bed, and he said he would be up soon. I had walked into the entranceway to ascend the stairs when there came a loud rapping at the front door.
I thought it was a messenger, though it was very late forthat, and waited to see if Bertram would appear. He did not, and the rapping came again. Grumbling to myself, I strode over and unlocked the door.
Standing there were Seraphina and Lucinda, the latter’s upper arm being gripped by the former.
I blinked at them in bewilderment, and over their shoulders, I saw a driver unloading their trunks from the carriage. Seraphina pushed past me, dragging Lucinda with her, who seemed to be in some sort of dazed state and could hardly walk.
‘Ah, hello. Max didn’t mention you were staying,’ I said, staring at Seraphina. Her face was a vibrant shade of pink like she had steadily been building up steam in the two-day carriage ride from York. ‘Would you like some tea or—’
‘Her monthlies have stopped!’ Seraphina hissed at me and shook Lucinda’s arm, somewhat viciously, to rouse her. The girl’s head lolled, and I could see her eyes were red and swollen.
‘What do you mean? Has she caught something from the baths?’
‘Don’t be naive, Felicity. You know perfectly well what it means.’
As Seraphina’s insinuation sunk in, I gaped at Lucinda; and she hung her head, a flush creeping into her cheeks.
‘Not ... not Harrington?’ I said in disbelief.
Surely we hadn’t been wrong about him!
Lucinda shook her head slightly, and it was then I realised there was only one other person it could have been. The room expanded and then contracted to a pinpoint, and I felt like I might faint. I gripped the sideboard for support, waves of nausea washing over me.
‘Dorian,’ I whispered, and Lucinda gave an slight nod.
I felt like screaming ‘But I locked you in!’ Yet Lucinda’s odd silent behaviour before we left the castle and her disinclination to say goodbye to Mr Hart now made perfect chilling sense. He had somehow traversed her moat under my watchful eye, and she had been too ashamed to tell us, hoping that it was all a bad dream and would go away—like I wished it would now. But unfortunately, it was all too real, and her mother was livid.
‘I left my precious child in your charge,and now I find out she’s pregnant!’ screeched Seraphina, causing me to take a hurried step backwards. ‘Make no mistake, I blame you entirely, Felicity. What have you got to say for yourself?’
There was only one thing I could say.
‘Ohhell!’
To be continued …
***
