Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
“So, will you live at Northwick after the wedding?” asked the very elderly dowager who, with her equally aged spinster sister, had stumbled upon Louisa among the palms in the conservatory. “Or do you have other plans?”
Louisa had settled the two ladies on a bench and summoned a footman to bring drinks. She could slip away easily enough when Benedict returned and perhaps it was as well that people saw her in the conservatory with Lady Gordons and Miss Springer, if she was then absent for an hour or so.
“We have not decided yet where we will live,” Louisa answered, glad that the darkness hid something of her blushing features and falling curls. “I am sure we will be happy wherever we end up.”
“As long as you’re together, no doubt,” sighed the dowager, smiling. “Ah, young love is a wonderful thing, and you shall have a very handsome husband, Lady Louisa.”
“He is not only handsome – the Duke of Northwick has many virtues,” Louisa responded, still feeling the memory and effect of Benedict’s soft but searing kisses on her naked breasts, hugging herself tightly with her arms.
Being together with him really did feel like the most important thing, and every moment he was presently gone seemed an hour to her.
“Ah, it is a love match!” declared Miss Springer, clapping her frail hands delightedly at Louisa’s words. “I knew it, although you would have it otherwise, Mildred. Look at dear Lady Louisa’s face and you cannot doubt that she is in love.”
Louisa’s insides quaked at this assertion even as her heart rose and sang.
It seemed incredible and shocking and yet…
it was true, wasn’t it? She loved Benedict.
That was why she kept kissing him, why she had accepted his ring and why she was now waiting so eagerly for him to return and claim her fully.
“I feel very lucky,” Louisa said quietly, looking down with a smile, as though fearing her indecent thoughts might be written in her eyes. “The duke is a good man.”
The two elderly ladies only laughed approvingly at Louisa’s apparently demure shyness.
“Oh, you have made dear Lady Louisa blush, I suspect, Mary. Maybe you are right, and Northwick will have a child in the cradle before next summer.”
“Now you are the one making her blush, Mildred.”
Was she blushing? Louisa felt more as though she was glowing all over. The well-meaning chatter of the old ladies seemed somehow very far-away. Soon Benedict would return and lead her into the gardens to irrevocably make her his wife and after that, all would be well.
“Lady Louisa?”
The footman had returned with their drinks on a tray, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.
“Yes, Owens?”
“You might be wanted in the house, Lady Louisa.”
At this, Louisa’s heart fell. She did not want more congratulations, champagne, music and waltzing. She wanted Benedict, his kisses in the moonlight and his body showing hers the first steps in the dance of their marriage.
“My aunt?” she queried while the elderly sisters took their glasses.
Owens shook his head and shrugged.
“No, there was something about a message from the stables, I think. It was all a bit confused and passed along by a coachman to Biggs, who told me and Shaw. You’d better check with Mr. Harper, I think. Something about Storm…”
“Storm! Oh, my horse must be foaling! I must go to the stables straight away.”
This was about the only news that could have presently have excited and distracted Louisa away from her daydreaming.
“In your dancing slippers?!” queried the elderly dowager doubtfully. “By yourself? That doesn’t seem sensible, does it, Mary?”
“Oh, I don’t care about my slippers and the head grooms must be there already if they’ve sent word to the house. It’s Storm’s first foal!”
“Why don’t I go and check with Mr. Harper first?” suggested the footman. “There could be a mixup and I don’t want to send you on a wild goose chase, Lady Louisa.”
But Louisa wasn’t really listening any more.
“Yes, do speak to Mr. Harper and let him know I’m at the stables already. Lady Gordons, Miss Springer, could you please let the Duke of Northwick know too? We were going to meet here in the conservatory but he can come and meet me at the stables instead.”
How lovely if Storm had her baby tonight! Just think, Benedict may give me a child tonight too…
The whole world was changing and blooming and it was all wonderful. Ignoring the weak protests of her three companions, Louisa almost danced out of the conservatory and along the path towards the stables.
“Is anyone there?” Louisa called out rather tentatively, her initial burst of excitement fading.
She had expected to see much light and activity when she arrived at the stables. Instead, she was puzzled to find only a single lantern hanging, as there might be at this hour on any normal night when the stable lads took turns to keep watch over the horses.
The stool inside the stable door was empty and a mug of tea sat un-drunk on a small table. There was no sign of whichever stable lad was meant to be on duty. Louisa walked over and touched the mug, finding it lukewarm. Someone had been here not too long ago, but there was now no sign of them.
“I’ve come to see Storm,” she called out again, her voice sounding loud and very much alone in the silence that followed.
There was only the usual whinnying and stepping of horses, the chomping of hay, and the rustling of straw. Was there more and louder rustling than usual? What if Storm was in difficulty and the stable lad had run to fetch help..?
It seemed unlikely that any stable lad or groom would ever have left the horses unattended, but Louisa’s mind was growing uneasy.
Something was wrong here. Unable to put her finger on an exact fear, she hurried towards Storm’s stall and found her horse placidly munching hay, and certainly not looking in any way as though she was about to drop her foal.
“You’re well, aren't you, Storm?” Louisa said with some relief but wider unease, stroking the mare’s mane, “but what is going on in here?”
In another stall a horse neighed loudly and Louisa heard that strange rustling again.
“Thunder?” she called out, recognizing the neighing and turning towards it. “Is that you?”
When she reached the stallion’s stall, the beast seemed even more uneasy than Louisa, tossing his head and stamping.
“Shall we walk around the paddock?” Louisa suggested, reaching in to pat the animal reassuringly. “Let me get a halter for you. It seems we both need some exercise.”
As she fitted the halter and then opened Thunder’s stall, the rustling from somewhere in the table seemed to grow even more frantic, almost frightening Louisa now. The sturdiness of the large beast beside her gave her some reassurance but she longed to be outside again.
“There, that’s better isn’t it?” she said as they emerged into the yard. “Now, why are you so nervous, Thunder? I do wish you could talk…”
She fell silent at the sound of horseshoes stepping slowly and deliberately on cobbles somewhere nearby. There was someone here and they had presumably been here all along, watching her calling out, going into the stable and talking to the horses. Her skin crawled with fear.
“Who is there?” Louisa demanded, glad that her voice remained steady. “Show yourself!”
“Gladly,” said a man’s voice as his horse walked slowly into the circle of light cast by the lantern. “You cannot really be surprised to see me here tonight.”
Louisa stared at the stranger on his dark horse, not recognizing the man and seeing no reason why he thought she should.
He wore a coachman’s dress and hat but that only bewildered her further.
This was not a Rosemere coachman. Was the man drunk, or mad?
Beside her, Thunder neighed loudly again and pulled at his halter as though wishing to run away, a feeling Louisa shared.
Then, the coachman took off his hat, revealing fair hair and over-intense dark eyes in a thin face with a disconcerting and rather vicious smile. Louisa almost wanted to scream but her throat seemed to have closed up and she also sensed that he would enjoy such a reaction.
“I see you recognize me now,” said Lord Ashbourne with satisfaction. “I am here to prevent you from making a terrible mistake. There is still time for you to escape. If you come with me now, I will arrange…”
“I have no idea what you are talking about and I have no need to escape,” Louisa threw back at him, her heart thumping like a bass drum. “My aunt has told me that you are not welcome at Rosemere. Please leave.”
Lord Ashbourne frowned at this refusal.
“Lady Louisa, the Duke of Northwick is a rake who goes through women as other men go through shirts and socks. He is not only a shameless libertine who dishonors the beds of respectable women, but the murderer of his own father. It is a travesty that he even stands beside a woman as pure and innocent as you.”
“How dare you talk of him like that!” Louisa snapped, hiding her fear as anger. “You are not fit to speak his name. Even addressing me here is an insult.”
“You have learned some bad habits, Lady Louisa,” he retorted, his smile now vanishing, as he urged his horse forward towards her and then dismounted.
“Willfulness and disobedience are not to be tolerated in a lady. I expect my future wife to respect my word absolutely, or she must be taught to do so.”
“I am not your future wife! You are nothing to me!” replied Louisa, pressing back against Thunder, and then moving around to the horse’s other side, as Lord Ashbourne continued to approach, as though the animal could protect her.
“I chose you, Lady Louisa, from all the ladies of the ton,” the blond man said in a low and terrifying voice. “I watched and I waited and I dreamed of the day when I should take you home to Ashbourne. You cannot undo all that now.”
“I chose Benedict, not you!” Louisa shot back. “I don’t even know you. You’re mad…”
“Women don’t choose their men,” Lord Ashbourne laughed derisively. “They don’t know how. Men choose women and train them to their will. You are mine, whether you like it or not. You belong to me.”
Reaching out he tried to seize her, but Louisa managed to keep Thunder between them, the poor horse now growing quite agitated.
“I belong to no one but myself. I shall give myself to a man of my own choosing. That will never be you!”
“That’s what you say now,” responded Lord Ashbourne with an evil chuckle. “You will sing a different song soon enough, however.”
When he lunged towards her this time, Louisa was ready, stooping to the ground and throwing a handful of dirt in his face.
“Get away from me, you pig!” she screamed.
As he drew himself up this time, Lord Ashbourne’s face was a mask of absolute rage and more terrible than any monster Louisa had ever seen in story books as a child or in her nightmares.
“Lady Louisa,” he growled.
“This is your last chance, Ashbourne,” Louisa said with desperate bravado. “If you leave now, you may get away before my husband tracks you down. When he does…”
“Northwick is not your husband!” raged the almost inhuman figure. “Or are you saying that he has defiled you? If he has, I shall break every bone in his body before I gut him…”
“Benedict is ten times the man you are!” Louisa yelled. “You are nothing beside him. Nothing!”
After this outburst, her assailant dropped his voice very low again, but was no less frightening for it.
From somewhere in the stables the rustling noise was now absolutely frenzied, accompanied by a strange grunting too but Louisa could make no more sense of that than of Lord Ashbourne’s insane behavior.
“Come with me now, Lady Louisa, and I promise that your discipline at my hands will not be too severe, considering the extreme provocation. If you do not come willingly…”
To Louisa’s horror and disbelief, the man now produced a pistol from under his cloak and cocked it in her direction.
“Do not make me do it,” he warned her, “I do not want to harm you, Lady Louisa, but I would rather have you dead than in Northwick’s bed.”
Louisa met Lord Ashbourne’s glittering, inhuman eyes before she gave him her reply.
“I would rather be dead than ever go to yours!”