I held my candle up to the glass to read the clock; it was nearly four in the morning. The Ollertons’ carriage would be waiting at the end of the drive for me.
I left a note addressed to Ben on my bed for Molly to deliver when she discovered my absence. I’d only written the barest details, saying that I’d gone with Liza and Charlie for an overnight stay in an unnamed, safe location with family, and that, seeing as we’d moved past the events of the afternoon picnic, I hoped he could grant me enough trust for this last wish.
I’d be back before he had time to worry.
Then I grabbed my rather heavy bag, packed with exactly a day’s worth of necessities, and my satchel with anything else I thought I might need, and blew out my candle.
I tiptoed down the dark hall, straining my ears for any sound of movement around me. It was too early for anyone else to be awake, but Ben had surprised me once before.
I’d just reached the stairs when I heard a cough echo from somewhere behind me. Frozen with one hand on the banister, I looked back. A moment stretched out into a lifetime with a thousand silent breaths, but nothing more.
I was halfway there. Stealing away like a thief, but with only my list and my dreams to take with me.
I took a slow step down the first stair. Then another, and another, until I was sure I could continue without drawing attention. Somehow, I managed to make my way to the entry. My feet glided silently across the wide-open space with haste, for I feared someone might jump out and discover me.
But I was quite alone. I stopped with my hand on the doorknob.
Was I risking too much? Would Mama and Father lose their heads when they discovered me gone? Would they rush to retrieve me? It would all be over then, this sense of independence I’d found through my list. This quest for something more from my life, for happiness and wholeness that every woman needed before stepping forward into the rest of her life.
I only had this moment, this one last chance, to create that feeling for myself.
I pushed through the door and into the darkness of a new morning. I stopped on the step and drew fresh air into my lungs as I closed the door behind me.
I’d be back tomorrow. Indeed, I would hardly miss my bed, and yet, as I gave the house one last backward glance, I felt an unexpected sense of freedom.
Down a few stairs, then gravel crunched beneath my footsteps, and the morning chill bit at my cheeks as I hurried down the drive. I could barely make out the lanterns from the Ollertons’ carriage and the figure descending from the cab as I approached.
Charlie.
He yawned and covered his mouth, sidestepping for the coachman to place a step for me. I thanked him for the extra work he oversaw as the only servant on the journey.
“Morning,” Charlie said behind his hand. His eyes were tired and still swollen from sleep, and everything about him was utterly endearing.
“Good morning,” I replied with a grin. My own exhaustion begged me to draw nearer to him. I imagined curling into his warmth, burying my face in the soft space where his neck met his shoulder and falling asleep to leather and woods andCharlie. It would be heaven.
“What?” Charlie watched me closely.
“Nothing,” I said, turning my head and shaking the thought away. Nothing I could say aloud.
The coachman took my bag and moved around to the back of the carriage to secure it with the others already there. Liza had likely packed for a week. When we’d asked her about a visit to her grandparents, she’d enthusiastically agreed. But when I’d mentioned the list, and the secrecy it required, I had to also promise her my undying servitude and a rich husband and to never ask another thing of her ever again in this lifetime before she’d agreed to come. Even then, I worried she might change her mind.
Charlie offered me a hand up into the carriage.
Liza leaned back in her corner, motioning for me to sit beside her. “Remind me again why we chose to leave so early.”
“We are maximizing our time,” Charlie said as he entered, taking the bench opposite us. Judging from his tone, his opinions sided more with Liza’s.
“Cheer up, you two,” I chided. “This is exciting. I have never done anything so bold. We shall be at your grandmother’s house in six hours, where we shall sea bathe and sightsee and picnic.”
“No more swimming, no more picnicking,” Liza muttered as she leaned her head against the wall of the carriage. “I’ve kept you two out of trouble thus far”—she squinted at us in turn—“at least from Society. And I intend on getting us back home unscathed.”
I nodded obediently and covered my yawn.
Charlie shifted in his seat. “If I am permitted to stay, there is a walking path I want to show you, Ros.”
Liza snorted. “You must be permitted into your own grandparents’ house, Charlie? If that does not encourage you to change, I cannot think of what would.”
He frowned, so I offered him an encouraging smile, and said, “I shall look forward to it.”
