Chapter Three
Evie rode her mare across the moors, her black cape flapping behind her in the wind.
Autumn’s chill was in the air, but the day was bright and beautiful, and the moors were still enriched with the last of summer’s purple heather.
It seemed to Evie like a cruel twist of fate.
Although the bogs were always a potential danger, they typically posed the greatest threat during the late autumn and winter months when rain muddied the grounds and mist clouded one’s view.
It was early September yet, and autumn had only just begun.
They’d had their fair share of rain the prior week, but last night the moon had been out, shining gloriously down on the heath, just like a summer’s evening.
Even so, Alfie had been foolish. Throughout their childhood, Evie and Alfie had spent hours on the moors, exploring every nook and cranny.
Alfie knew this land, and he understood its dangers.
He knew the areas to avoid. How could he have landed in a deep bog?
What caused him to let his guard down—was it anger?
The same nauseating chill that had gripped her earlier took hold of her again.
Had Hugh told him the whole truth? Is that what had sent him onto the moors in a fury?
No! She brushed the thought from her mind. Hugh would never betray her like that.
Still, Alfie had been perfectly happy when he’d departed for the Olde King’s Head. So whatever had angered him had occurred after he’d met with Hugh.
An ache filled Evie’s heart as she approached Hadley Hall—a beautiful, white stone house that sat two stories high, with a slated black roof, three chimneys, and mullioned windows. It had been built by Hugh’s great-great-grandfather and would one day belong to Hugh.
One of the Hadleys’ stable boys, a young lad named Judd, who had a mop of thick dark hair that looked as though it needed a good scrubbing, greeted her as she came to a stop in front of the house.
“Miss Everwood,” he said, his voice betraying his surprise at seeing her. One didn’t normally pay visits so soon after a family member died—even a stable boy knew as much. “Is it true what they’re sayin’ about Master Alfred—that he were swallowed by a bog the size of a house?”
“What?” Evie said sharply as if the stabbing pain in her chest had turned her voice into a weapon.
Judd let go of Diana’s reins and took a step back, clearly now aware that he’d spoken out of turn.
When Evie remained still and silent because she was in too much pain to move or speak, he seemed to regain his confidence and edged forward to take her mare’s reins again.
“I’m sorry for ye, miss. Truly, I am.” He swallowed, and his large Adam’s apple was suddenly the only thing Evie could focus on.
“An’ Mr. Alfred of course. He were only just here yesterday.
I can hardly believe it’s true. He were always so kind to me, giving me a half penny sometimes. ”
Evie nodded because she feared that if she spoke, she might burst into tears. She took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and then managed to say, “Mr. Hugh…is he—”
“Inside, miss. He came home in the early hours covered in mud. I took his horse to the stables. The poor thing was scared out of its wits. They can sense their master’s fear, you know.”
Evie nodded again and dismounted from her mare. “See, you give her some water,” she managed to say before half running toward the house.
When the Hadleys’ butler opened the door, he expressed the same surprise at seeing her as Judd had, but, unlike the stable boy, he quickly regained his composure.
“Miss Everwood,” he said by way of greeting.
“I’m here to see Mr. Hugh,” she said quickly, not wanting to give the man, who’d known her since she was a small child, the opportunity to ask any questions.
“He’s in the drawing room with Mr. Hadley, I believe. Let me—”
“I’ll show myself there,” she said, brushing past the butler and stepping inside. She needed to see Hugh, and nothing would stop her.
The vast stone entrance of Hadley Hall, with its massive candelabra hanging overhead, delightful wallpaper that sported all manner of birds, a passion of Mrs. Hadley’s, and adorned with fresh sprigs of heather cut from the moor, was a place she’d always loved.
But today it felt cold. The entire house felt as though its heart had been carved out, just like that of her own home.
She walked slowly up the red-carpeted staircase that led to the second floor, where the drawing room was located.
It felt like a death march. Although she was anxious to see Hugh, she dreaded what he might tell her.
She dreaded seeing the truth on his face—that Alfie really was gone. It wasn’t some bad dream. But reality.
She stood at the entrance to the drawing room and saw Hugh, standing by the fire, staring into the flames as if he wished to dive directly into them.
“Evie.” Hugh’s mother spotted her first and stood up.
“My dear child, what in heaven’s name…” She strode forward and embraced Evie, who found she was rooted to the spot.
Mrs. Hadley smelled fresh like the outdoors, as she always did.
But her usual cheerful spirit was absent.
She, like Evie, was enveloped in sadness.
While in his mother’s embrace, Evie saw Hugh turn and look at her. His dark eyes filled with tears.
“Come, sit down. We’ll get you some tea.” Mrs. Hadley ushered Evie into the room.
“I’m here to speak with Hugh,” she said bluntly because it was all she could manage to say. Then she cleared her throat and added, “Alone.”
Mrs. Hadley froze.
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” Mr. Hadley stood up.
He was a tall, wiry man, always impeccably dressed, which reflected his life as a gentleman.
Hugh was more like his buxom mama. He loved the outdoors and worked the land because he enjoyed doing so, not because he needed to.
As a result, his frame was muscular and strong.
“Leave us,” Hugh said.
“My dear,” Mr. Hadley said, ignoring his son and turning to Evie. “I imagine you want to know the details of what happened to your brother, but you must understand that it will do nothing but hurt you. A young lady such as yourself might—”
“Leave us!” Hugh said, more forcefully. “Please, Father.”
“You’ve already told the magistrate everything. There is no need to rehash—”
“Come, dear. Let us give them a moment to grieve alone.” Mrs. Hadley took hold of her husband’s arm. “There’s no harm in that, is there?”
Mr. Hadley nodded reluctantly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He turned to Evie. “Miss Everwood, please accept our condolences. We were very fond of Alfred. I think you know as much.”
Evie did her best to smile at him before the tears began to spill down her cheeks. As soon as Mrs. Hadley closed the door to the drawing room, Evie rushed forward and fell into Hugh’s arms. He held her tightly as they both wept.
When Evie finally lifted her head from Hugh’s chest, she said, “Tell me what happened. I want to know everything.”
“What do you mean?” Hugh asked, releasing her.
“Exactly what I said. What happened? Why did Alfie go galloping onto the moors at night? They say the two of you argued. Is that true?”
Hugh swallowed. And he turned his eyes away from Evie and toward the fire. “It was nothing,” he said.
“Nothing?” Evie said. “Nothing made Alfie storm out of the Olde King’s Head and ride out onto the moors? Nothing made him let his guard down so that he landed in a bog?”
Hugh kept staring at the flames. He did not speak.
The thundering horses’ hooves pulling a phantom carriage returned to Evie’s mind, and fear gripped her as she remembered the night she’d given herself to Hugh on the moors.
The same night he’d asked her to marry him.
That night, as they lay in the heather, full of bliss from their lovemaking, she’d heard the distant cry of a woman.
“Did you hear that?” Evie had said.
“It’s only the wind.” Hugh had laughed at her.
The cry sounded again, shrill, and loud. Then the ghostly horses’ hooves sounded in the distance. Those phantom horses, pulling a phantom carriage that had tormented her ever since.
“There’s no wind tonight.” Evie sat up and listened, her heart pounding. “And how do you explain those horses?”
“There’s always wind.” Hugh attempted to pull her back down.
“It’s an omen,” she’d said, resisting Hugh’s pull. “The doomed lovers. It means we’ll be separated.”
“You don’t believe that ridiculous legend about the eloping lovers, do you?” He’d smiled up at her teasingly. “The one where they are set to run away together, and the lady’s father intercepts her lover and cuts off his head?”
“It’s not a legend. Her name was Isla, and she lived atop Stanbury Moor, aways farther than your Hadley Hall.
She was said to be the most beautiful woman in Yorkshire, and her papa wanted a high price for her.
He took her to York and arranged for her to marry a wealthy merchant there, but she fell in love with a young man who worked for the merchant.
They met in secret but were discovered. The merchant said she was tainted and no longer wanted her.
So her Papa dragged her back home and locked her up, but she’d already made plans to elope with her lover.
When he came for her…” She stopped. Hugh was grinning at her with an amused look on his face.
“Go on,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Make a mockery of it if you wish,” she said, “but we both heard her cry out. It’s a bad omen.” She shivered. “It’s giving me a bad feeling.”
Hugh had reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “There’s nothing but good things in our future,” he’d said, kissing her. “Nothing but bliss ahead. I promise that I won’t let anything keep us apart.”
Evie had returned his kiss, but the trepidation in her gut had remained. And now, she knew that she’d been right.
Her mind snapping back to the present, she clutched Hugh’s arm and forced him to turn from the flames and face her. “It was because of me, wasn’t it?” she said. “Alfred found out what we’d done. And he was enraged. So angered that you two quarreled and he rode out onto the moors.”
“No,” Hugh said forcefully. “I told Alfie of my intention to ask for your hand; that was all. He knew nothing beyond that. I would never—”
“But he guessed I’d given you my chastity before marriage, didn’t he?”
Hugh shook his head. “Alfie would never think of you in such a way. What happened between us on the moors has stayed that way, between us.”
“Then what did you quarrel about? If I am to be your wife, you must tell me.”
“Evie, you must trust me when I tell you that I cannot.”
“My father thinks you killed Alfie. He says that the two of you argued and engaged in fisticuffs on the moors. He believes that you pushed Alfie into that bog.”
“That’s a lie! I went after Alfie, that’s true, but only because I wanted to calm him down. I wanted to make things right. But his horse got spooked and threw him off. He landed in that bog. I tried to pull him out, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough. The earth would have swallowed me, too.”
“I believe you,” Evie said. “All I want to know is what you argued about. If you don’t tell me, Papa will never let us marry. He’ll keep blaming you for Alfie’s death. Don’t you see that?”
Hugh’s eyes darkened. “I can’t say more than I’ve said already. If you love me, you’ll trust I’m keeping silent for Alfie and for you.”
Evie stared at her betrothed. She could not believe what she was hearing. Why would he keep silent? Had he done what her papa was accusing him of?
“We can go away together. Elope.” Hugh moved toward her. “We don’t need your papa’s permission.”
“You think I can take a man for my husband who is keeping the details of my brother’s death a secret?”
“I’m not doing that. I’ve told you the truth about Alfie’s death. His horse threw him, and he landed in a bog. I tried to save him. I did everything…” His voice cracked. “It took him so quickly. One minute he was there and the next he was just… gone.”
“But you won’t tell me what you quarreled about. You won’t tell me why Alfie took off onto the moors?”
“I’m asking you to trust me that saying nothing is for the best.” He reached for her. “Please, Evie.”
She stepped back out of his reach. “I don’t know who you are anymore,” she said, sadness and anger swirling in her chest. “The Hugh Hadley I know would never keep secrets from me. And one that is so dear to me. My own brother. I shall never know why.”
Hugh sighed and turned back to the fireplace.
“You will keep your secret even if it means losing me?” she asked one last time.
Hugh kept staring at the flames. He made no more effort to plead with her or to touch her. Tears blurred Evie’s vision. She ran from the drawing room, her heart shattered.