Mr. Wilcot stood, his balance still off-kilter. “If you do not mind, Miss Apsley, Margaret and I would like to spend some time together now. I hope your visit was pleasant.”
“Of course,” I ground out. It would only make things worse for Margaret if I refused to leave, and I had no intention of adding to her burdens. I stood, offered a polite curtsy, and showed myself out of the cottage. I declined the butler’s offer to assist me onto my horse. The man did not even blink when I used the mounting block to climb up on my own and straddle my mare’s saddle-less back, nor had he done more than fight a smile when I arrived this way.
Margaret’s servants had grown accustomed to the viscount’s wild daughter, who came to visit in the most unladylike fashion, and I had never once felt judged by them for it. Margaret may not have a doting husband who cared for her, but she did have servants who treated her with respect. They cared for her, and that gave me at least some relief.
Fluffy, gray clouds covered the sky, and while the incoming storm had yet to interrupt my morning ride, a thick mist engulfed the area around the Kenwick estate, leaving my cheeks slightly damp. Crisp air filled my lungs with each inhale, a sting that grounded my emotions and kept them from bursting. I nudged Rain to run faster, and the breeze ripped at my plait, tugging pieces loose. It had been far too long since I rode bareback, and the exhilaration of a bruising ride calmed my soul in a way nothing else could.
Strands of hair brushed across my face, but I didn’t bother to sweep them aside until we reached the top of the hill and slowed our pace. Breathing heavily, I slid from Rain’s back and ran my fingers over her black coat, speaking soothing words to the mare as I did so. Father had purchased her for me years ago, and she was yet another reason I never wished to return to Town.
In Town, I could not ride bareback at a pace most gentlemen would claim was too dangerous for a lady.
I fastened the reins to the nearest tree and left Rain to munch on the grass. It wouldn’t be long before the weather grew colder and the lush greenery died off completely as winter set in. My rides would be limited then, as Father asked that I not venture so far from the house when it snowed.
His request did not always stop me from doing so, but such weather did prevent me from exploring the estate with as much frequency. Not that I did not already know our land from top to bottom. As a girl, I had sneaked away from my governess and hosted many expeditions into the wildest parts of our property.
This place, though, was my favorite.
I rounded a stone wall and stopped to look up at its crumbling façade. The ruins were evidence of the past, and my mind often wondered what secrets and stories the walls of the old castle contained. It had been at least a century since the building was last in use, possibly longer, and every year, it fell into further dilapidation.
Still, there was something peaceful about walking among the broken walls and crumbling archways, an air of calm that lent me a contentment I could not seem to find anywhere else. The ruins were my place to think, a sacred space of solitude where I could sort out my problems and hopes for the future.
My fingers slid over the damp wall, and I smiled. Perhaps I could convince Margaret to visit. It had been well over two years since she had last joined me here. Mr. Wilcot wouldn’t allow her to leave long enough without him, and I would sooner die than allow that man to invade this space.
But Margaret? She could find a respite in the ruins and would appreciate the solemn beauty as I did.
And she sorely needed a respite.
My lips tugged into a frown. Visiting Margaret this morning, I had not expected to find her in high spirits. Her pregnancy was something to be celebrated, yet I worried more for her now than before my visit. What if Mr. Wilcot reverted to his high-handed ways? Margaret assured me he had not become physical with her since their return, but oppression was not always physical in nature. Words could stab just as deeply as any knife; tone could bruise just as thoroughly.
To add a child to the already delicate situation…
Anger surged within me. Mr. Wilcot had tricked Margaret into this life and now punished her for it. He spent their limited funds on alcohol and cards, while expecting her to live the life of a recluse who headed all his whims and desires.
I leaned against the wall, pressing my eyes closed as a few raindrops fell on my cheeks. Inhaling the scent of rain and dirt calmed my frustrations, but they would never go away. Margaret would never be free of Wilcot’s control as long as the man lived, and he had both good health and youth on his side at only six and twenty.
I hated how he treated her. And I hated how I could do nothing to help.
Thunder roared across the land, and with a heavy sigh, I pushed away from the wall. I stared across the open landscape separating the ruins from Kenwick Castle, its majestic walls and towers rising above the trees in the distance. I would return home today carrying a burden of worry and regret. If only I had seen through Mr. Wilcot’s façade while they courted. If only I had warned Margaret against him.
But I had not, and nothing except death could sever their marriage and free my friend.
I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes and followed the path around the ruins to where Rain waited for me by the tree. Using an old stump as a mounting block, I hiked up my skirts and climbed onto her back.
“Let’s go home, girl,” I said, patting her neck and fingering her gray mane. “We cannot stay out in this weather.”
The ride back to Kenwick required about ten minutes, and rain had begun to pour steadily from the heavens by the time I reached the stables. I entered through the arched, center carriageway where a groom met me and guided Rain under the shelter of the outer stalls. He assisted me down, and I swept the damp hair from my face, knowing full well the mess I must look. Just as with Margaret’s butler, the groom was completely unsurprised by my state or decision to ride without a saddle. The servants at Kenwick knew me too well to be scandalized by such a thing.
Thank goodness for their loyalty and discretion; otherwise, I would be ruined.
Not that I cared overly much about my reputation. I had no intention to marry, so why should I concern myself with the gossips of society? No, soon enough, I would have my independence, and their opinions and judgments would not matter.
“Please see to it that she is brushed and given a treat,” I said to the groom.
“Yes, miss.” The groom bowed before leading Rain to her stall. I sighed as I watched them leave. It was a shame the weather had been so dreary as of late. It had severely cut into the time I spent out of doors.
“It appears you were caught in the storm,” a low voice sounded from behind me.
I started, sucking in a lungful of cold air that carried the scent of the stables, and spun around. Lieutenant Paget stood several yards away, leaning against one of the empty stalls, his dark eyes fixed on me. They wandered down my person momentarily, then quickly flicked back to my face. His brows furrowed, and his throat bobbed with a swallow. If I was not mistaken, a hint of color tinted his cheeks.
