Chapter Twenty-Five
Hattie shifted on her feet, restless to get settled into the stagecoach and head out for Stow.
It felt as though she had nettles under her skin the longer she waited.
She ran her fingers over the beaded ridge of her reticule as she watched the poor driver attempt to stack and restack all the luggage on the top and back of the carriage.
Even though there were only four of them for the journey and all of them were, thankfully, women, there was an excess of luggage.
Thank goodness her contribution to the mess was slight, otherwise she had no idea how the poor man would have managed.
They were already almost an hour past the designated departure time, but the driver had been reluctant to begin the journey with empty seats, so Hattie had been forced to wait for additional travellers to arrive.
The call to adventure she had answered almost two months ago had manifested into an unexpected romance and now heartache.
She missed everyone at Blithe Manor dearly.
They had all filled her heart so much it now felt empty without them in it.
How would she ever fill that extra space?
How would she ever not feel this tight constriction in her chest and the pain of holding back her tears at the loss?
Her eyes welled and she looked down with a smile. She almost laughed. Ophelia would be clutching her hands now, telling her it would somehow all work out and Trudy would be chastising her for her romantic spirit while also counselling Hattie on how she didn’t need a man for her happiness.
How she missed her dear friends. She blinked away her tears, took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was going home to them. She was not alone, nor would she ever be. Time would heal her heart. It had faced heartbreak and loss before. She would recover and be stronger than ever.
‘Let us be off then, ladies!’ the driver called, yanking Hattie from her woolgathering.
She smiled, waited for the others to board, then settled into the seat facing backwards next to another young woman and opposite an elderly woman with her adult daughter.
Everyone smiled cordially and nodded to each other.
The driver closed the door, hopped up to the driver’s box behind her and clicked the reins in time with his tongue to get the horses to begin.
They rocked forward and then began to pick up speed as they manoeuvred out of the yard.
Soon they were on the road, jostling back and forth.
It was a far cry from the smooth ride of William’s fancy carriage, but she didn’t mind.
She was exactly where she was supposed to be… she was headed home.
The stagecoach stop disappeared and soon there was only lush green hillsides and blue sky.
The horses settled into a smooth, rhythmic cadence and she sighed.
Eventually, Hattie’s eyelids became heavy and she allowed herself to be lulled to sleep.
It would be a long journey and she might as well rest. Her mind was drifting off and all she could hear was the clippety-clop, clippety-clop of hooves along the dirt road.
Exhaustion was overtaking her. It had been a long day and it was not even mid-afternoon.
‘Stop! Stop!’ a voice called off in the distance. The carriage shifted, causing Hattie’s head to bump against the window.
‘Ouch,’ she mumbled, opening her eyes. She glanced around, trying to wake herself enough to determine what was happening.
The woman next to her pointed out the back carriage window. There was a man on horseback shouting at them and riding up to the side of the carriage. ‘Reckless young man,’ the older woman scoffed and shook her head. ‘The young are always in such a hurry,’ she added, clucking her tongue.
‘Go round!’ the driver shouted back, the carriage shifting slightly as he slowed a bit, to let the rider pass.
‘Stop!’ the man called again as he eased alongside the carriage. When his gaze turned towards them, Hattie gasped.
‘William?’ she said aloud, her words came out in a confused whisper.
He caught her gaze and the relief she saw as he sighed and slowed his pace was palpable.
‘You know this man?’ the older woman said.
‘I do,’ she stammered. ‘Something has happened… I do not understand…’ she babbled. She knocked on the top of the carriage above her. ‘Driver! I know this man. Please stop!’
She heard a curse and then the driver slowed the horses to a stop. ‘This will cost you extra, Miss. I have no time for stops.’
‘And I will pay it,’ William replied, as he dismounted. ‘She is needed. Gather her belongings. Now!’ His words were fierce and tight. It was unlike him to be so harsh. He pulled the carriage door open.
‘Hattie, come with me,’ William ordered, his gaze wild, his features taut. She recoiled into the squabs of her seat.
‘Not until you tell me what has happened. It was only a short time ago that you sent me away. Why are you here now?’ she argued. ‘And why should I go with you anywhere, Your Grace?’
‘Your Grace?’ the older woman said, eyeing William with suspicion before looking back to Hattie.
‘I do not have time to explain myself. You are needed,’ he said, his desperation and impatience increasing.
‘I will go nowhere with you without an explanation,’ she replied, lifting her chin.
‘It is Millie. She is gone.’
Everything stilled around her. Buzzing filled her ears. ‘When?’ she asked.
‘After you departed. We cannot find her and I cannot lose…’ He paused, holding her gaze. ‘And I cannot bear to lose her. Please. Help me find her.’ His gaze bore through her, but Hattie was frozen, torn between hurt, longing and uncertainty.
The women across from her were wide-eyed and their mouths gaped open. ‘That is the Duke of Wimberley,’ one whispered.
His gaze did not falter, but held her own, transfixed, as if there was no one else but the two of them. ‘I am sorry, Hattie. Please. Help me. She is all I have.’ His voice was husky and full of emotion. He reached out his hand to her.
‘Go on, lass,’ the older woman said, gripping her arm gently. The touch jolted her out of her indecision.
‘Yes, yes,’ Hattie said. She slipped her hand into his and her body reacted, sending a tremble through her limbs, making her almost weak in the knees. He steadied her.
‘Where are your belongings?’ he asked, scanning the carriage.
‘Leave them,’ she answered. ‘Let us find Millie first.’
He closed the carriage door and thrust coin in the driver’s hand along with orders of some kind. Hattie took that moment to focus on the ground beneath her feet and the wind in her hair. She closed her eyes to steady herself.
Focus on Millie. Focus on Millie. All else can wait.
‘Ready?’ he asked. He was somehow already atop his mount. His hand was outstretched. She hadn’t thought about how they would be getting back to Blithe Manor. The carriage pulled away slowly.
‘Yes,’ she lied, eyeing the single horse and how they would have to ride together.
‘Just put your boot in the stirrup, take my hand and I will pull you up.’
She nibbled her lip.
‘Trust me,’ he said and then winced. ‘Poor choice of words, perhaps, but I promise I will not let you fall.’
She said nothing, but set her boot in the stirrup, gripped his hand and allowed herself to be lifted. She settled in front of him, trying hard to maintain some distance between their bodies. Even still, she could feel the heat off his form and a delicious desire budded up in her against her will.
Curses.
He sighed. ‘As much as you must detest me, you must tuck into my body as we ride. It is safer that way,’ he explained. ‘And less strain on the horse.’
She cringed and closed her eyes. Focus on Millie.
She said nothing, but settled back against him. His arm slid around her waist and pulled her gently and more firmly against him. Her body was aflame with want.
He cursed aloud from the contact. ‘It will be a long ride,’ he murmured. Although she shouldn’t have been pleased, she felt some comfort in their shared agony.
They rode in silence for several minutes. The wind and the beginning of a soft mist of rain helped cool her desire and clarify her thoughts.
‘When did you last see her, Your Grace?’ she asked, trying to sound as formal as possible.
‘Before you left with Eddie. Mrs Chisholm said she was most distressed to see you leave. She left Millie’s room to get some milk and biscuits after she finally fell asleep. When she returned, Millie had vanished.’
‘I am so sorry. I didn’t know how it would upset her, but I should have,’ Hattie replied. She should have known. She had been Millie once.
‘Nor did I. Truth be told, I was in my own grief. Too distracted to think of anything or anyone else. It was my fault. I should have known. This happened before…’
Of course. Hattie knew the answer, but asked the question anyway. ‘When your wife died?’
There was a weighty pause before he answered, ‘Yes.’
‘And when she disappeared then? Where did you find her?’
‘She was in her mother’s room, cuddled in her closet.’ He paused, clearing his throat before beginning again. ‘She was snuggled in with her gowns. I think she missed the smell of her.’
Hattie’s chest tightened. She pressed her lips together and gathered herself before responding. ‘I did something very similar when my mother died. I wrapped myself in her favourite blanket, desperate to have her back.’
His hold around her tightened. Whether it was intentional or instinctive didn’t matter. She was grateful for the immediate comfort it brought. It didn’t matter that she was still heartbroken and angry about how he’d treated her earlier in the day. It felt as though a lifetime had passed since then.
‘I think you had become a mother to her in the time you were with us. I should have realised your departure would bring all that loss back up to the surface.’