Chapter One
Bellwood Estate
Derbyshire, England
Late November 1818
“God’s teeth Aphrodite!”
Gerald ran his hands through her thick sable mane. “You are so much more than I bargained for. You’ve completely enraptured me. If only you didn’t find my ears so worthy of your attention. Our time together would be better spent if you would release your hold on them.” He leaned in and whispered, “You’re just too impatient my beauty, because you know I have what you want.”
An enthusiastic snort was her reply.
“That’s my girl. Here’s the reward I promised,”
Gerald said.
She nickered as he reached into his breeches and pulled out a large ripe carrot.
Aphrodite munched happily as Gerald reached up and lightly scratched her behind the ear.
His newest racehorse had more than earned her treat, having just beat her fastest practice time. At this rate, she would be ready well before June and the Epsom Downs.
He surveyed the refurbished stables with satisfaction. The structure looked nothing like it had when he’d arrived at Bellwood more than five-and-a-half years ago. Back then, he’d been shocked to see the decay and deterioration of the property.
Grimacing, Gerald recalled being summoned to his father’s study the morning after the Adamson ball more than five years ago. And all because of that blasted bet with Thomas Victor and Asher Wright. The shame he’d felt when his parents discovered him in the arms of the exuberant Lady Adamson—he’d never be able to forget the looks on their faces.
He’d steeled himself for one of his father’s long-winded lectures on a gentleman’s proper decorum. But there had been no such sermonizing. Instead, it took all of three minutes for his father to strip him of his allowance, amenities, townhouse, and amusements. In three minutes, his father had removed him to a rundown property in Derbyshire. He would have to work to earn his place back in Society and atone for disrespecting their family .
Gerald had been banished without a pound to his name with the understanding that he needed to learn from Mr. Angus Connery, the estate manager his father had hired.
“I like the man. If you allow him, he can teach you a great deal, son. If you don’t…well, let’s not cross that bridge,”
his father had warned.
Connery came from Scotland with a wealth of knowledge on running a successful estate. In the beginning, Gerald had tried not to like him, but it was impossible. Connery was one of the finest men Gerald had ever known. The Scot taught him everything from animal husbandry to planting and harvesting crops to carpentry, to keeping detailed estate accounts.
What had started out as a harsh punishment turned into the best thing that had ever happened to him. After overcoming his initial resentment, Gerald had been determined to prove to his father that he could turn the estate around. Determined to make up for his immature, irresponsible, and reckless behavior. Determined to win back his father’s respect.
He was damn proud of his efforts including his hard-earned calluses. The roof, the interior, and all the horses—everything was new. Gerald loved the stables and had long ago decided it was his favorite place to be. Talking to the horses, while he mucked out their stalls, he would work through problems. The horses seemed to understand he needed someone to listen. When he was ready to tackle the problem, he would then discuss his ideas with Connery.
The renovations on the manor house were near completion. In a week or so, Gerald would be finally ready to welcome his entire family for a visit, and what better time than the Christmas holiday? He couldn’t wait to show his home to his parents, his sister Lady Diana Banbury, his esteemed brother-in-law Lord Christopher Banbury, and Gerald’s thirteen-year-old sister, Gabby. He looked forward to seeing them. It had been too long.
The last time he’d seen his family had been last Christmas—almost a year ago. He had gone home to the Bellecote family estate in Sussex. He’d planned to visit his family more often, but there had been so many unexpected problems that had cropped up at Bellwood, that he hadn’t had time to make it back home.
But all of that would change now that the estate was finally functioning smoothly. In the past six years, he’d worked closely under Connery’s expert tutelage, turning the failing estate around, and making it profitable. What’s more, he discovered an affinity for estate management.
He also discovered a passion for racing horses. With Connery’s advice, Gerald had begun to add to his stables. Although he loved to win, he loved to work with the horses even more. The two thousand guineas purse he’d won in April with his stallion, Hermes, at Newmarket had given him the additional blunt he’d needed to make necessary repairs to the manor house.
Not only was he winning substantial purses, he had also begun charging handsome stud fees to other peers and landowners seeking to expand their own stables. Discovering a knack for evaluating horse flesh, Gerald was fast gaining a reputation for his expertise.
He’d even noticed a marked change in his physique since moving to Bellwood. He’d always been active, riding every morning and boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s, but he’d never done physical labor in his life. Now, he resembled a farmhand more than a viscount—his complexion was tanned from spending so much time outdoors and his shirts and breeches had become snug given his broadened muscular frame.
“You would not believe what this place looked like six years ago, Aphrodite,”
he said as he began to brush her sleek coat. “Father purchased it from Baron Barrows with the intent of renovating it as a wedding gift for when I finally married. The place had been sorely neglected.”
Gerald chuckled as Aphrodite offered up a nicker in reply.
Barrows had no talent for management and even less for gambling. He’d nearly bankrupted himself and had been forced to sell the estate at auction, which was how Gerald’s father had acquired it. The baron’s ill-treatment of the staff had led to a frequent turnover, which further eroded the property.
But Gerald discovered a hidden gem in the run-down estate: Baron Barrows had been mad about racehorses. The estate auction had also included several fine thoroughbreds. Eventually, Gerald began to expand the stables. First, he purchased a male thoroughbred, named Hermes, then he acquired Aphrodite, and last month, he’d purchased a second filly named Athena. Gerald was counting on their excellent bloodlines to help him win even more races.
“I see ye’ve been whispering sweet nothings to the lovely Aphrodite. She’s already putty in your hands. With the right training, she’ll bring you as much good fortune as Hermes has.”
Gerald turned to see Connery leaning his shoulder against the stable wall, a grin on his face.
“The horses, they get in your blood, don’t they, lad? Not quite like a lass…but close.”
“They do, indeed,”
Gerald chuckled. “I’ve always enjoyed horses. Even caring for other people’s horses.
“Aye…I remember when you took care of your sister’s horse. I’ll never forget the look on her face when we delivered your sister’s horse, Bandit, to your family’s estate last Christmas.”
“Diana was thrilled,”
Gerald said, remembering his sister’s joyful tears. He’d been so choked up over everything she’d gone through that he’d had to hold back his own emotions.
“Aye, she’s a lovely lass, and deserving of a happy life,”
Connery agreed in his distinctive deep brogue.
Gerald nodded, thankful for his father’s wisdom in hiring Connery. From the first moment they met, the Scotsman had been blunt and honest about the condition of the property and what it would take to fix it. Everything had been in a state of ruin or collapse. The stable’s roof had fallen in, and the grounds surrounding the home, including what appeared to have been once beautiful gardens, had been left fallow. The entire place needed restoration.
Connery had been his guide in all things. In fact, the Scotsman had even held the purse strings for the first three years. He approved every purchase, even flour for the kitchen. It was one more way his father had driven his point home. But it didn’t matter because Gerald had been determined to make the estate a success and respected Connery’s experience and abilities.
“By the way, Wright should be here in a week. I invited both him and Victor Thomas to come for the holiday. Wright’s family is out of the country, and he’s coming. Thomas won’t be able to make it, but sends you warm regards for the holidays,”
Gerald said, finishing his brush down of Aphrodite.
“I look forward to seeing him again,”
Connery said in an amused tone.
“Yes, my friends have changed,”
Gerald chuckled.
“Not as much as you’ve changed,”
Connery noted.
“Maybe. But their fathers didn’t strip them of their financial resources, send them away, and make them rebuild a derelict estate.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve become a positive influence on your friends,”
Connery countered. “They turn to you for advice about horses and estate management. I’ve seen the respect they have for you. And Bellwood is no longer derelict. It’s one of the most beautiful estates in Derbyshire and is becoming known for its prized horse flesh.”
“Thank you for your faith in me,”
Gerald said reaching out and shaking his friend’s hand.
“You’re welcome, my boy. Believe it or not, I’ve learned a few things from you as well, and it’s made me proud. I’ve managed many estates, but never ‘ave I taught someone else. And I believe ye might’ve surpassed my skills in horse breeding.”
“You humble me, Connery,”
Gerald said. “I hope I will always live up to your faith in me.”
“Ach, now dinnae go makin’ an old Scot weep,”
Connery said, clearing his throat, “Or you’ll ruin my reputation for being a cantankerous old bastard.
Gerald threw back his head and laughed, knowing full well that beneath his gruff exterior, Connery had a heart of gold. But he was truly thankful for the older man’s advice. Connery had helped him realize what had been missing from his life: purpose. Bellwood and his horses had given him that purpose—and sparked his determination and drive.
Gerald’s lips twitched, realizing he would have done the same thing as his father, had he been in his father’s shoes. Gerald had been on a path to ruin. Had his family not intervened, who knows what his life would be like today? Over time, Gerald realized he loved estate management—the responsibilities suited him perfectly. It was something he had never imagined doing but he’d taken to it like a duck to water.
He was at ease now, having completed much of the work he had set out to do. The manor house, which he intended to rename Bellwood Manor, required a few last-minute touches, which he hoped to accomplish over the next few days.
“And with the holidays and yer family’s forthcoming visit, the house is abuzz with excitement,”
Connery said. “I found the cook and housekeeper in the kitchen with their heads together, drafting a list of duties that took up the entire table. With those two planning things, it portends to be special. Prepare yourself,” Connery said, grinning. “I’m looking forward to a merry holiday celebration.”
“I second you in that,”
Gerald chuckled. He was glad his family was coming to Bellwood instead of him traveling to Sussex. He was looking forward to showing them all the improvements.
According to his mother’s recent letter, Selena and her mother would be joining them as well. His mother had written that they wanted to host a small birthday celebration for Selena at Bellwood given that she would soon turn twenty-one.
Gerald didn’t quite know what to think about that bit of news.
Nor did he know what to think about Selena. Although they were essentially strangers, he’d been betrothed to her since he was seven years old.
“We signed a betrothal agreement for you to marry Selena,”
his father had explained. “There are things parents do for their children that are for the best. You may not fully understand that now, but eventually you will…”
But as Gerald came of age, resentment sparked and grew. He’d pushed the boundaries of his father’s patience with his drinking, carousing, gambling, and taking part in outrageous dares with his friends.
The night of the debacle, the family was in London for the season. The Bowles were there as well for their daughter’s come out. After discovering Gerald with Lady Adamson in a shocking embrace, Lord and Lady Bowles had been as incensed over Gerald’s flagrant rakish behavior as his parents had been and had threatened to break the engagement. Gerald would never forget the wide-eyed astonishment on Selena’s fragile features, nor how painfully young and na?ve she was.
Somehow, his father had managed to salvage the betrothal. Although Gerald would have preferred to have left it broken, he hadn’t fought it at the time given how angry his father had been. Since then, Gerald had been so preoccupied renovating Bellwood that he hadn’t given the girl or the betrothal much thought.
Although he was looking forward to his family’s visit, he hoped his parents would not press him about Selena. While the past few years had taught him the importance of duty and hard work, he still had goals to accomplish before he could even contemplate marriage.
Yes, that was it. If his parents brought up the topic, he would simply explain that the timing was not right.
Rose Point Chateau
Nottingham, England
Two weeks later
Selena Bowles held her mother’s head in her lap, barely resisting the impulse to pull her to her heart and will her to be better. Lady Fleur Bowles looked so pale and thin, with damp hair around her face. Only a week ago she was hale and hearty. Selena had never seen her mother so ill, and it had only taken a matter of days.
“ Ma chérie , you must go…leave while you can,”
her mother said, her voice reedy and breathy. “Cook will care for me. I cannot protect you—and may not be here much longer. You must go.”
“I cannot leave you, Maman ,”
Selena whispered, choking on a sob. Taking a clean rag, she dipped into the bowl of cool water on the bedside table and sponged her mother’s fevered brow. Smoothing the strands of dark hair away from her azure eyes, Selena kissed her mother’s cheek.
Fighting back tears she prayed her mother would recover.
We’ve just lost Papa, I can’t lose you too.
Viscount Phillip Bowles passed away fifteen months ago when his heart had finally given out. He’d been with friends on a hunt; fortunately, they hadn’t traveled far when the attack came on. Acting swiftly, his friends carried him back to the house as quickly as possible.
His doctor shook his head. “There is nothing I can do for him,”
his physician had told the viscountess and Selena in private. “I am amazed that he has lived this long—a tribute to his strength of will and generous spirit.”
Selena’s father had urged them not to fear the future and reassured them about his heir.
“Darlings,”
her father had rasped on his deathbed , “He is a good and honorable young man. His father, Arthur, and I were cousins and friends when we were young. Percival will take good care of you.”
He expressed his love for each of them and, after kissing his wife, he took his last breath.
Mr. Percival Bowles had been the first officer on board the Midnight Maiden, a merchant vessel that had been at sea for nine months until docking in Portugal. It had taken the solicitors an additional six months to locate Mr. Bowles and inform him of his change in fortune.
Although grief-stricken, Selena and her mother had welcomed the new viscount with warmth and hope in their hearts.
They would realize immediately that Viscount Bowles was anything but honorable.
He was an evil tyrant.
The new viscount went nowhere without his servant, Grom.
Percival had swiftly installed the giant brute as the new butler. Poor Higgins, who had served the family for as long as Selena could remember, had been tossed out without a farthing.
“He’s lucky to get a reference,”
Percival had declared.
In fact, Percival and his giant minion had fired all the servants — save for Maggie Ghent, their cook, and her husband, Ben, the stablemaster. It would have been impossible to replace them as quickly as the maids and footmen. Unfortunately, the new servants were as coarse and cruel as their master. Selena realized they were no better than spies who would watch her and her mother like hawks and report everything they did and said to Percival. Selena and her mother took to having their private conversations in the water closet.
And now, just two weeks after Percival’s arrival, Selena’s mother had fallen ill. The pain was unbearably raw for Selena. Not only had everything changed, but her dear mother was sick.
“You must leave me,”
her mother repeated hoarsely, snapping Selena from her reverie. “I cannot believe this man to be your father’s cousin. His plans for you are evil.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “My darling girl, you must go and save yourself.”
“Hush, Maman . The walls have ears.”
But her mother was right. Only a few days after his arrival, her mother had patiently explained Selena’s betrothal to Viscount Gerald Lawrence. It was expected that they would wed sometime after Selena turned twenty-one.
“And is there something magical about the age of twenty-one?”
Lord Percival Bowles had sneered.
“My husband and Gerald’s father were boyhood friends. Our families have been friends for years,”
Lady Bowles had repeated. “Selena and Gerald have been betrothed most of their lives. It is hoped their wedding will be forthcoming.”
Percival had slammed his fist on the dining table, nearly toppling all the crystal and spilling the wine.
Selena had nearly jumped at his outburst. She looked at her mother who had calmly regarded Percival with the regal bearing of a queen. Her father had always said her mother had a spine of steel. Her mother’s family had heeded insights and fled to England just before the revolution started in France, establishing themselves in Sussex. Despite their many years in England, their loyalty was occasionally called into focus during the Napoleonic War, elevating the need for her mother’s strong spine.
“I’m the new lord here and I will decide Selena’s future.”
Percival jabbed his fork into a chunk of roast venison and crammed it into his mouth, leering at Selena as he chewed, and drawing her from her reverie.
“Who is this upstart Viscount Gerald Lawrence? I’ve never heard of him,”
he demanded.
“He is the son of the Earl of Bellecote one of the most esteemed families of the peerage,”
Lady Fleur had replied in a serene tone. “My husband, the late viscount, wrote to your father about the betrothal, and he was happy to hear of it. I am surprised he did not mention it to his son.”
Selena had been proud of her mother, who did not flinch under Percival’s narrow-eyed glare.
“I will meet with my solicitor and have him notify the Bellecote family that the betrothal is off.”
He gulped down the rest of his ale, slammed down the empty tankard, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “ I shall marry Selena. It would be best for the family, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?” He’d turned to Selena with a yellow-toothed smile, revealing several missing bottom teeth. “Unlike my predecessor, my seed is potent and will bear fruit.”
Both Selena and her mother had gasped at his crude insult. Selena had felt a schism of repulsion run through her.
“Wouldn’t the late viscount be proud of us?”
Percival had continued, spearing another hunk of roast meat. Chewing with his mouth open he said, “Mm... This is quite good. I’m glad we kept the cook, Grom.” He’d grinned at the burly man who stood beside Percival’s chair.
“Yes, your lordship,”
Grom had replied in a guttural monotone.
Selena blinked back tears and the back of her neck prickled, as she continued to sponge her mother’s feverish forehead. Ruminating on that horrible night, she realized her mother had not mentioned the inheritance Selena would gain on her twenty-first birthday. It was the reason for the stipulation in the betrothal that the wedding take place sometime after Selena came of age. Her parents had wanted her to be financially secure in her own right. Both her father and her mother had spoken of it to her. The inheritance had been passed down from her maternal grandmother and included a manor home in Sussex, a townhouse in London, and her Grand-mère’s family jewels—which her grandparents had secreted from France with their escape, and which her parents had placed with their solicitor for safekeeping, as well as substantial funds that had been invested when the family relocated to England. Selena had no idea of the total value, but until now, had never given it any thought. Her family had frequently used the townhouse when they traveled to London, as well as her mother’s family manor house in Sussex, preferring that at times to going home to Nottingham.
Oh, Maman, what are we to do?
Her mother, who had never been sick a day in her life, had started becoming weaker and weaker. Yesterday afternoon, Selena had taken her a cup of tea and discovered that her mother, who’d gone upstairs to take a nap, was limp and her breathing shallow.
Selena had immediately alerted Maggie. But Grom had intercepted the cook on her way out the door to fetch the doctor. He ordered her back into the kitchen to prepare the viscount’s favorite meal. Maggie had done as much as she could to help Selena’s mother, but nothing seemed to be working.
Her mother was dying, and Selena was certain Percival had poisoned her.
“Selena…you must save yourself, my darling,”
her mother whispered again. “Go to the Earl of Bellecote. Tell him everything. He will keep you safe and do the right thing by you.”
A sound at the door made her turn in surprise, her hands wiping the tears on her cheeks. Percival and Grom sauntered into the room.
“Please fetch the doctor. My mother is gravely ill and needs assistance,”
she pleaded.
The two men looked at each other and laughed.
“Get out of my parent’s bedchamber. Get out!”
she screamed. “You poisoned my mother. I know you did!”
Vern had grabbed her by the arms and hauled her up from the chair like a rag doll, smashing her in the face with his meaty fist.
She awoke in confusion, the right side of her face throbbing in pain and realized she was lying on her bed in her own chamber.
“ Cochons!”
she exclaimed then winced at the pain. She’d always resorted to French expletives to express her anger, much to the consternation of her mother and the amusement of her late father.
Somehow, she got up and ran to the door, her knees almost buckling from lightheadedness. How long had it been since she’d seen her mother? She reached for the doorknob and found it was locked. Furious, she pounded on the door. “Let me out! I must see my mother!”
She pounded and screamed until her hands were numb and her voice was hoarse.
Finally, footsteps approached, and a key scratched in the lock.
She stepped back as the door creaked open.
Percival walked in and announced, “Your mother is dead. Tragically, she succumbed to her fever.”
Selena gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Fresh tears blurred her vision. “No! It’s not true. Please, take me to her now.”
“I’m afraid that is not possible. It would be dangerous for you to be near the body. After all we wouldn’t want you to catch what she had. The funeral will be held tomorrow. The cook and her husband are preparing the body for burial.
“Please, I need to see my mother.”
He ignored her plea and said, “Know this. I am your guardian now, and you will obey me.”
He started to leave but turned around. “Pack a valise and be ready to depart right after your mother’s funeral tomorrow. We will be traveling to Gretna Green. For our wedding.” He gave her a leering grin as he dragged her against him, holding her arms above her head in a vise-like grip against the wall and bruising her mouth in a slobbering kiss.
Foul, whisky breath nearly suffocated her, and she barely kept herself from retching. If she was going to get out of this, she needed her wits about her. She could not draw his ire. Not with Grom standing in the doorway, ready to pounce.
“I can’t wait for our honeymoon, my dear,”
he laughed, grinding himself against her as his hand grabbed her breast and squeezed painfully. “And please do your best to fight me in bed. It will be much more enjoyable,” he whispered, sinking his teeth into her earlobe.
Selena clenched her jaw at the pain. She was mortified but she refused to make a sound. Not from his lecherous assault, and not from his announcement.
He stepped back and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I see you are learning. It’s wise to follow my orders. You will see it’s for the best,”
he said, adjusting his cuffs before leaving the room. A moment later, she heard the key turn in the lock.
She collapsed on her bed and broke into sobs.
Her beautiful, kind-hearted mother was gone. Maman! What am I going to do without you? No chance to say goodbye. That devil had murdered her mother as indisputably as if he’d held a gun to her head. Selena was certain of it.
Dizzy and nauseous she took deep breaths, trying to keep from throwing up .
The last thing her mother had said to Selena was to save herself.
You were right, Maman. It is the only way. She had to leave. Rose Point Chateau was no longer her home. She would follow her mother’s advice and travel to London to the home of the Earl of Bellecote, the family of her betrothed.
She would pack but not for Gretna Green. She would wait until everyone was asleep. Then she would make her escape. Percival had helped himself to her father’s fine whisky, guzzling it like water. He’d spent every night since his arrival, playing cards with Grom, the two of them drinking themselves into a stupor in her father’s library. Surely this night would be no different.
As the house settled for the night, she set her plan in motion. She arranged the pillows on her bed under the covers, to look as if she were sleeping. She blew out the bedside candle and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Next, she braided her waist-length hair and wrapped it into a coronet around her head. In a basket under the bed, she reached for a canvas sack the maids used to transport soiled linens for washing. Quickly she reached into a drawer and without looking, whipped out a few items of clothing, stuffing them into the sack. She had to make this quick.
Opening the drawer of her bedside table she took out a box of torches. She removed one and set it aside, sliding the box into the bag. She picked up the torch, hefted the sack and tiptoed to the bookcase at the far end of her bedchamber.
Setting the sack down on the floor, Selena crouched and shifted several books on the bottom shelf. Pressing against the back panel, she moved back as the bookcase sprung open on a well-oiled axis. Picking up the sack she walked through the narrow opening into a hidden passage. Deftly, she touched another lever, and watched as the bookcase slid closed, securing the passageway from prying eyes.
Her parents had shown her the secret passageway when she was a little girl. As a child, she would play hide and seek here with her nanny. Sometimes her parents would play with her too. She had so many fond memories of her childhood.
If only she and her mother had had the foresight to make their escape earlier, before it was too late. She bit her trembling lip as she lit the torch and set it on a small table next to a wooden box. Lifting the lid, she took out a pair of boy’s breeches, shirt, and boots. Removing her gown, she donned the breeches and shirt and put on the boots.
She’d always worn boy’s clothes when she went for her morning rides, preferring to ride astride. Her parents had permitted it only on the family estate. She didn’t have room in her sack for the gown she wore, so she folded it and left it on a chair next to the table. She reached back into the box and removed a locket. She opened it and gazed at the miniatures within of her beloved mother and father. She kissed both images and snapped the locket closed. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she secured the locket about her neck.
Reaching back into the box she took out one final item. A small reticule that contained some spending money from her last trip to the village before that devil arrived, and a few jewels her mother and father had given to her, including a sapphire ring, her grandmother’s pearls, and her father’s signet ring—something her mother insisted she have—treasures she’d secured in her secret hiding place shortly after they realized Percival was not the honorable man they’d believed. She wiped fresh tears from her cheeks at the thought of her lovely and wise mother.
Her ’other’s jewels along with the household funds for the month were in a locked safe in her father’s library. The first thing the bastard did when he arrived was demand the key to the safe from Selena’s mother.
Everything she loved was gone.
I’ll just have to make do, Maman.
If she ran out of money, she would have to sell her jewelry.
She tucked her braid into one of her father’s floppy hats—one that he always wore in the gardens when he helped her mother prune the roses.
She donned her cloak and looped the sack over her shoulder. Picking up the torch, she carefully made her way through the hidden passage and down a set of stairs that led to the pantry behind the kitchen. In the larder, she found a small wedge of cheese and half a loaf of bread, which she stuffed into the sack. She slipped several apples and carrots into the deep pockets of her hooded cloak before making her way to the stables.
Quiet as a mouse, she saddled the large, gray stallion that her father had given her on her eighteenth birthday. The horse nickered upon seeing her.
“Shhh! Azure we must be quiet. We don’t want to wake anyone.”
Taking a carrot, she fed it to her horse. She had named him Azure because in the moonlight his gray coat looked blue, and her father had chuckled that the color matched her own silvery blue eyes. Climbing into the saddle, she whispered to her horse, “We must leave.” Without looking back and with tears streaming down her face, she fled in the moonlight.
In one year, she had lost everything—her father, her mother, and all the servants who’d been like family. She wished she could have said goodbye to Maggie and Ben, their cook and stablemaster, but she couldn’t risk being caught by Grom or Percival—or any of his other spies.
She found a small measure of comfort in knowing her parents were together again.
The sky had been overcast when she’d set out just after midnight, and by the time she reached the road that turned toward London, it had begun to rain. Pouring rain.
She uttered a curse. The distance to London was too far in this weather. She looked around in her saddle, searching for some kind of shelter. But nothing was visible. The night was dark, and the rain was cold. London was out of the question.
“Change of plans, Azure,”
she said in a low voice, surprised when he snorted a reply. She didn’t think he could hear her over the downpour. Tugging on the reins, she guided Azure eastward. She recalled that her betrothed, Viscount Gerald Lawrence now resided at Bellwood estate in Derbyshire. She and her mother had planned to join the Bellecote family there for the holidays.
Selena did not know what kind of reception she’d find at Bellwood, given the incident at her come out all those years ago, but she had no choice. She needed help and Bellwood was much closer than London.
An hour later, Selena was fighting to keep her eyes awake in the saddle when she heard the rumble of a carriage. Her heart pounding in her chest, she guided Azure off the road, into the woods. Stopping behind a large tree she waited with bated breath, terrified that Percival had discovered her escape and had tracked her down.
“We can’t let him find us,”
she whispered.
As if understanding, her horse stilled and neither one of them made a sound until long after the dark carriage rolled past.
“I am so glad you’re here with me,”
she whispered, patting her horse’s muzzle. “I could not have done this without you.”
Azure nickered softly.
Selena heaved a sigh of relief and taking out her locket she kissed it and asked her parents for their guidance and a bit of luck.
She turned to lead Azure back to the main road when she spotted a stream just a few yards away. In her haste, she’d forgotten to fill a pouch of water before she ran away. She said a quick prayer of thanks. She might have been soaking wet from the rain, but her throat was parched.
“We both need water and nourishment, Azure.”
Climbing down, she led the stallion to the stream where he could drink his fill. Selena drank as well, feeling much better as she scooped up handful after handful of cool stream water.
Reaching into her pocket, she fed Azure a carrot and an apple. She took a few bites of the cheese and bread and then drank more water.
“At least we have some shelter from the storm,” she said.
After she tended to her private needs behind a nearby tree, she walked back to Azure who greeted her with a snort and a nuzzle on the cheek.
She patted his sleek mane. “All right, we should be on our way, my friend.”
She lifted herself onto his back and guided him back onto the road. On the main road, she noticed two wonderful things: the rain had stopped, and the clouds were beginning to dissipate. She pulled out her locket and kissed it again, thanking her parents for guiding her.
As dawn streaked the sky, she happened upon a farmer who gave her directions to get to Derbyshire and the Bellwood estate. Relieved she was heading the right way, she hoped to make it there by nightfall.
When she finally arrived at Lord Lawrence’s estate, Selena was completely exhausted and could barely keep her eyes open. Unfortunately, it had begun to pour again, and she was soaked to the skin, having traveled in the rain for several hours. She turned onto a gently winding path that led to an elegant, white-stoned manor house. Just as she and her horse were almost at the hitching post, a large white dog ran out in front of her, barking, and spooked her exhausted horse. Azure reared up. Unable to keep her seat, Selena tumbled backward, hitting the ground with a thud—and then, everything went black.