Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Edward
The fight for abolition will not be an easy one.
It will take time and diligence from many to achieve.
Complete dedication. That is how we shall bring about change.
Commit yourself, Edward. One day, the world will join our cause.
Until then, and even thereafter, it is in the hands of God to see us through.
I pray He will watch over those who suffer and soften the hearts of men.
May His grace, an unfailable quality that provides redemption for even the most wretched of souls, also clear a pathway for change.
JN
I could not escape the stables fast enough.
With a quick pace, I reached the stall where my horse, Lightning, was quartered.
He whinnied his reluctance to leave his morning meal, a bucket of oats, but accepted my coaxing and held perfectly still as a groom applied his saddle.
In minutes, we galloped across Kenwick estate, away from the cause of my pounding heart.
Happening upon Annette this morning after she returned from a ride had seemed providential.
I’d needed a moment alone with her to apologize, and what better time to offer it than when her mood had been improved by a jaunt through the crisp morning air?
What I had not anticipated was the way the rain had dampened her dress and hair, nor the way my body would respond to seeing her enter the stables riding bareback.
Bareback.
What viscount’s daughter did such a thing?
None to my knowledge, and the image did not match the graceful, sophisticated woman I had met in London.
True, Annette was passionate and knew how to wield her words in a way that punctured deeply, but she did so with a charm that eased the offense.
In a way society deemed acceptable. She had presented herself as a lady of quality during each and every one of our exchanges, leaving no question of her upbringing or position among Society.
Well, all of our exchanges but one.
And it was that memory that had risen to the surface upon seeing her riding and dressed so unseemly. The weather had not soaked her, exactly, but it had wet her clothes enough that they clung to her figure. Her very handsome figure.
And her red hair…
Fire and water should not mix, and yet, I had been a witness just now to their compatibility. The way water darkened her flaming tresses and left it in complete disarray had stoked a fire inside me, to say nothing of my attraction to the rest of her.
But that hair.
I had managed to keep control of my faculties—kept my eyes on her face rather than her very comely curves—until she was within arm’s reach.
She hadn’t the slightest notion of the sort of temptation she presented in such a state, and we were both fortunate I was a gentleman and did nothing more than touch her plait.
But, oh, how I had wanted more.
I swore under my breath, pressing Lightning to run faster.
My attraction to Annette had formed the day we met, and no amount of silent chastisement prevented the longing I experienced in her presence.
Longing that a kiss in a darkened alley had amplified.
So long as I labeled her a lady—a viscount’s daughter, a diamond of the first waters—in my mind, I could overcome the distraction.
She had been far too above me in station to ever consider her as more than an acquaintance.
But now, this offer from Lord Paxton threatened to unravel my willpower.
Knowing the woman could one day become my wife, that the viscount would welcome the connection, tore down all of my carefully laid walls, demolished all of my defenses against the attraction I could not rid myself of.
Seeing Annette that way in the barn, so carefree and wild, as if she had been born a lowly farmer’s daughter or the like, did nothing to protect my disintegrating resolve.
I could not allow myself to wonder about the woman Annette Apsley kept hidden, for that woman had the power to undo me completely and distract me to madness.
And madness had never looked so appealing as it did when she appeared.
Complete dedication. That is how we shall bring about change. Commit yourself, Edward. One day, the world will join our cause.
Countless letters had insisted as much, and I trusted Mr. Newton, the man behind those words, who had vastly more experience than I did.
I could not afford distractions. I was committed to the fight for abolition and would dedicate my life to its pursuit.
Marriage was not off the table. A wife could certainly help with my political ambitions.
When Lord Paxton first presented his offer, I had thought Annette would fit the role perfectly.
A wife with both wit and charm could only aid me in my efforts to woo the upper ten thousand.
To convince them to support new legislation.
But I feared there was far more to Annette than the mask she had worn in Town. Feared, because if anything had become clear to me in that barn, it was that she could shed the regal persona expected of her to ride across her father’s estate without a saddle.
Or swim in a pond, apparently.
I fought a laugh. What I wouldn’t give to see Annette swimming in a pond.
“No,” I muttered under my breath, ridding myself of the amusement. “Seeing that would not help matters. It would decidedly make the situation worse.”
Wild Annette was far too tempting. My relationship with her must remain shallow.
Feelings would only get in the way. The best thing I could do for myself was forget I ever saw Annette this morning, though how I was to manage that, I hadn’t any idea.
For now, my focus was best put toward my destination and what possibilities might await me there.
Willowbrook Manor was a sizable, two-story building made of white stone.
Although far from the grandeur of Kenwick Castle, the estate boasted a pleasure garden, an orangery, and even a stone gatehouse, which led into its enclosed inner courtyard.
The area surrounding the house was mostly woodland, though I had spotted a sheep pasture on my way here, following a lesser-used trail until the house came into view.
I’d left Lightning tethered to a tree in a secluded grove on the property boundary to avoid alerting any staff of my trespassing, then silently—or as near to it as I could manage—crept through the woods.
I crouched behind a hedge at the forest’s edge and took in the view before me.
Watching. Waiting. I needed proof, and with my promise of discretion to Lord Paxton, this was the only way to get it.
Light rain dripped from the clouds, the droplets rattling the canopy above me, but none reached where I sat below. Thunder roared overhead, and I grimaced up at the gray sky, knowing my time for observation would not last as long as I liked.
The grounds were quiet, and not a soul stirred among the gardens.
From here, I had a clear view of the gatehouse, but not a single carriage passed through its archway.
If, as Crachit had suggested, Captain Hollinsby had purchased this estate under a false name in order to hide, then there would be very few comings and goings by either staff or visitors.
It might require days of watching for me to gather any evidence that the man was here, let alone up to something criminal.
I was not certain I had the patience for such a thing, but what choice did I have? Lord Paxton was correct; should Hollinsby have settled here, he would flee at the very whisper of my presence. If he did so, the only lead I had would run cold, and Adda…
Adda might be lost to me forever.
My jaw clenched. I would not allow that to happen.
I owed the woman my life, and I would do everything in my power to free her from Hollinsby’s clutches.
Evidence would bring the man to justice, and I desperately wanted to see him punished for the things he had done. But it was Adda’s safety that mattered.
By now, Hollinsby would have learned he had not succeeded in murdering me that night.
I had not spent my time in London in anonymity.
To go into hiding would have required me to tell my parents the truth about my naval service, and that was not a conversation I was prepared to have.
Besides, the truth would only put them at risk.
Regardless, my foray about Town meant word that I lived and breathed had likely reached Hollinsby.
He was not a man to let betrayal go unpunished and would undoubtedly look into the matter of my survival.
How long would it take for him to discover that it was by Adda’s hand that I had not drowned in the depths of the dark sea?
In my exchanges with Cratchit, I had never mentioned how I survived, but given my inquiries about Adda, it would not be difficult for Hollinsby to make conjectures should Cratchit respond to the captain’s inquiries.
Which I felt confident that the seaman had done. Cratchit might have offered me information, but any bribe from Hollinsby would overset his loyalties yet again.
A low growl rumbled from my chest. Men like Cratchit and Hollinsby deserved to rot on a hulk, as far as I was concerned.
I waited another half hour before giving up my watch.
Rain poured heavily from the sky by the time I emerged from the woods and mounted my horse.
My failure to procure even the smallest bit of evidence ate at me, but I would not be deterred.
Whether it took me three days or three months, I would gather the information I needed.
I would save Adda, even if it required my last breath to do so.
I had gone years without a valet, so accepting help from Lord Paxton’s was both unusual and trying. The man certainly did his job well, but after being independent and doing things by myself for so long, relinquishing that control, no matter how small, presented a challenge.