Chapter Fifty
“What if his Lordship finds out?” whispered Betsy as she handed her mistress her bonnet.
“Oh, do stop fretting,” said Sylvie, fastening the ribbons with a determined tug. “Whatever is the matter with you? You’ve been twitchy all morning, and you’re starting to make me nervous.”
“As well you should be! Poking around in things that are best left alone… after he expressly forbade it.”
Sylvie’s head snapped up. “When? When did he forbid it?”
Betsy leaned closer in disbelief. “Um, outside that cottage! Enough, he said, No more, Sylvie, no more.”
“Hmph, well,” muttered Sylvie, returning to the task of positioning her bonnet and tying the ribbons. “What he doesn’t know, won’t harm him, will it? And I’m not poking around… I’m simply paying his aunt the courtesy of a call. To pay my respects. As one should.”
“Pay your respects!” squeaked Betsy. “Really? Is that what you call travelling half the length of the kingdom, carrying a King’s ransom in jewels? Any self-respecting highwayman will be only to happy to relieve us of it… possibly our heads too.”
“Sshhh,” warned Sylvie, nervously glancing towards the door. “Someone might hear you. And… and we’re taking Adam. We’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Adam?” Betsy groaned. “He’s only just out of short trousers. At least let me try and convince Eddie to… to delay his return to Cheshire and accompany us.”
“No. Good heavens, no,” gasped Sylvie. “You haven’t told him of our plans, have you?”
“I promised I wouldn’t,” said Betsy quickly. “But…”
“Oh, Betsy, it would be unfair to put him in such a position… to go against his master’s wishes. Worse still, to ask him not to tell.”
“I know, it’s just… just,” her eyes suddenly misting with tears, she quickly looked away. “Just… it would be safer, tis all.”
Blinking in surprise, Sylvie regarded her maid for a moment, a furrow of confusion on her brow, then suddenly took a short intake of breath. “Oh, Betsy? You don’t want him to go. You’re… you’re in love him!”
“I… I…”
“Oh, Betsy,” gasped Sylvie, clasping her maid’s hands in her own. “Forgive me. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own worries… why didn’t you tell me? I knew you were friends, fond of each other… but…”
Bowing her head, Betsy hastily brushed a tear away, “It’s nothing, it’s just…”
“Just?”
“It was a nice daydream, that’s all. But it can never be. So that is that.”
“Why ever not?” pressed Sylvie. “Why can it never be… does he not return your feelings? Has he… did he? If he’s done anything to hurt you… I’ll…”
“No, no, gosh no! He’s wonderful! Truly wonderful. We love each other deeply… It’s just, it cannot be, and we both… both accept…”
“Accept?” Sylvie frowned, then her eyes widened in sudden comprehension “Because of his Lordship! And me! You’re to be parted because of me!
Oh no. No. My foolish, dearest friend, I would never allow your future happiness to be jeopardised because of my silly predicament.
No. If your feelings for each other are as you say, then…
then I shall write to Lord Westland at once.
I’ll tell him that we cannot do without Eddie in Wales. That he has become indispensable.”
Dropping Betsy’s hand, she darted towards her writing desk. “Yes, yes, I’ll do it this very moment…”
“Sylvie, no.” Betsy caught her arm gently. “As kind as your offer is, Eddie will never agree. He will not abandon his Lordship now, not when he… he may need him more than ever.”
Sylvie hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yes… you’re right.” She drew a breath, squaring her shoulders. “Then you must go with him. As much as it will pain me to be parted, and I will miss you dearly, I will write and ask that Westland find you a good position in the household in Cheshire.”
Shaking her head, Betsy half laughed and sniffled, “And leave you to get yourself into even more mischief? Never! I’m afraid you are stuck with me, my little lady. I’m not going anywhere. But… but I do appreciate your kindness.”
“Nonsense, you ninnyhead. If you refuse, I’ll… I’ll dismiss you and banish you this instant.”
“No, you won’t, you goose. Within a quarter-hour of setting out for Scotland, you’ll be bored to tears without me.”
“Rubbish,” laughed Sylvie as she flung her arms around her friend in a tight embrace.
“I could amuse myself for at least seventeen minutes.” Releasing her hold slightly, she pulled back a little so she could look into Betsy’s eyes.
“Though know this, Betsy Jones… I’m only allowing you to come because I still hold out hope of reconciling with my husband.
But, if I am wrong, and find no answers in Scotland, you must promise, when we return, you will do as I wish. ”
“Let’s just get to Scotland first — with our heads intact — shall we?” Said Betsy, wryly. “Come, let us say our goodbyes to Eddie, as we promised.”
“Hm,” murmured Sylvie with a conspiratorial smile. “Though, take heart, dear Betsy, for it is no longer the goodbye you feared, but a brief farewell until you meet again.”
* * *
“Ride carefully and safe travels, Eddie. You will be very much missed,” said Sylvie with a warm smile as she patted his horse’s neck.
“Thank you, your Ladyship.”
“Now, I shall leave you two to say your …” Her words faded as they all turned at the sound of two horsemen galloping up the drive.
Instinctively, Eddie stepped protectively in front of the two young women, eyes fixed on the fast-approaching figures.
He turned to Sylvie, his expression one of surprise and confusion.
“It’s Lord Southerby. Were you expecting him, your Ladyship?”
“No. No, why would I? Why would he…?” Sylvie whispered.
“I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”
“You don’t think… think something terrible has happened?”
“Best to wait, milady,” Eddie murmured, stepping aside politely. “I’ve found it’s never advisable to assume anything where his Lord Southerby is concerned.”
Nodding her understanding, Sylvie flashed both her companions an anxious look as they watched Southerby rein in his mount.
The fearsome beast snorted, reared, and lashed out with its forelegs.
The young groom holding Eddie’s horse swallowed nervously and began to offer the reins to Eddie so he could approach the new arrival, but Eddie shook his head. “No need, he’s fine.”
“Are you sure, Eddie? He looks mighty troublesome?”
“Oh, I’m more than sure,” murmured Eddie as they all watched Southerby spring to the ground with easy grace as the beast’s murderous hooves struck skyward again.
Before even looking towards the little welcoming party, Southerby unhurriedly stroked the neck of his highly strung stallion and whispered soothing words, and the creature stilled and, after a moment, hung its head.
Now as docile as a lamb, it nudged Southerby gently with its nose, and he gave it a quick scratch between the ears as he threw the reins back over its neck. Then, he turned.
To Sylvie’s relief, he was smiling, the smile of a man not about to impart tragic news, so she took a step forward to greet him, then stopped.
A laugh burst from her lips as the horse suddenly snatched the corner of Southerby’s hat in its teeth, dragged it from his head and proceeded to shake it teasingly.
“Really? Lark?” scolded Southerby, yet his amusement was evident in his tone.
“Apologies, Lady Westland, I’ll be with you in one moment.
Now, come here, you scamp, give it back,” he laughed, chasing the young stallion as it pranced about.
After several attempts to grab it back, Southerby sighed dramatically.
“Okay, you win. Now,” he said as he swept an elaborate bow before the horse, “my hat, if you please.” To everyone’s delight, the horse ambled up and clumsily replaced the battered hat upon Southerby’s bowed head.
“How enchanting,” Sylvie giggled. “Is Lord Southerby always such fun?”
Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know about fun. He prefers the company of horses to people, but you can always expect the unexpected.”
Handing Lark’s reins to his riding companion, Southerby finally approached. “Lady Westland, forgive my young mount’s behaviour. He gets a little excitable after an invigorating run and likes to show off. As you can see, we are still working on his manners.”
“He’s delightful, Lord Southerby,” laughed Sylvie. “Quite delightful indeed.”
“Delightful, perhaps,” said Southerby, attempting to knock his hat back into some sort of semblance. “Though he’s costing me a fortune in hats. But, as he is my fastest mount over distance, and I was fearful of missing you before you departed…”
Letting his statement hang in the air, Sylvie and Betsy exchanged a small, surprised gasp. Eddie shot them a look before he swung a questioning gaze to Southerby. “Departed?”
“Ah.” Southerby inclined his head. “It seems we are well met, young Eddie, as it appears you were about to head off in the wrong direction.” Indicating toward the main door, he asked, “Shall we?” At Sylvie’s shocked nod, he held out his arm as a respectful gesture for her to precede him inside.
“Depart for where?” insisted Eddie as the young women scampered into the house. “Does mi Lord Westland know of this? Does he know you’re here?”
“Give or take an hour, the answer will be yes to both,” Southerby said. “And, no, he will not be pleased by either. Come… we have much to discuss.”
Eddie hesitated, suspicion clouding his eyes. “What’s going on, milord?”
Pausing, Southerby regarded the young man for a beat, then sighed. “I am of the understanding the marchioness seeks to save your master from himself. Now, are you coming in to hear what she has to say, or am I to assist her alone?”
“Assist her to do what exactly?”
“That is what we’re about to find out.”
“And you think she is just going to tell you?”
Southerby looked at Eddie with a wry smile. “How long have you known me?”
Reluctantly, Eddie started to follow, grumbling, “Hm, but you know he’s going to be mighty riled.”
“No, Eddie, trust me,” said Southerby as he strode through the door, “he’s going to be murderous.”