“We shall see, but the damp in this country is not helping my cause.” A gleam came into his eyes. “If we were to go directly to Spain ...”
“We cannot miss Paris!” Hannah exclaimed, turning to him in alarm. This had been the one portion of the journey she anticipated with real interest.
“Spain was not part of our plans,” Amy reminded him at thesame time. “We have made no preparations there. Nor have we made any arrangements to arrive in Paris early. We cannot rush our departure.”
Mr. Bridwell did not appear to be listening. He felt around him on both sides of the seat, then looked at the floor of the carriage before banging on the wooden frame of the window.
“Stop the carriage.” He opened the window to peer up the road, then swung his regard to Amy. “I have forgotten my cane. It is the wooden one I purchased here with the carved head of a cat. I do not wish to lose it, for it releases the mineral exhalations of the springs when I draw near the source. We must go back.”
Amy did not want him to delay his return to their rooms and shook her head. “No, Papa. Let me go and retrieve it for you. Ambrose will not be able to turn the carriage here.”
Hannah made a move to slide next to Amy. “Let me go with you. I am not sure you should be walking these hills alone.”
“The woods are as safe as in Kent. I felt completely at ease when I walked the path with the princess. Besides, you must be on hand to assist Papa when you return home. Ambrose will have to bring the carriage to the stables.”
Hannah frowned, but she could not refute the logic.
“Very well, my dear,” Mr. Bridwell said reluctantly. “We will continue on.”
Hannah did not look convinced, but Amy was determined. The solitary path through the trees would save her from having to explain her somber visage to anyone. She did not believe the hills were dangerous, and her desire to be alone was strong. No, the quiet solace of nature would soothe her, which was what she needed right now. Each time she saw James in Miss Prexley’s company, it drove the truth home that he was not hers to love. It was time she focused on grieving the loss of James all over again.
She stepped out of the carriage and caught the groom’s eye. “Drive on without me. My father forgot something on the hill, and I will take the walking trail down.” Before shutting the doorto the carriage, she leaned in. “Do not worry about me. Just go to our rooms where you will be more comfortable.”
“Thank you.” Her father leaned over and set his hand on hers in an unusual gesture of affection.
As she closed the carriage door, her father began a new thread of conversation with Hannah. “I saw you talking to Mr. MacFirbis. Has he grown on you as a prospective husband? I can speak to him if you would like.”
“Papa!”
Amy heard Hannah’s cry of dismay as the carriage rolled away, and it brought a joyless smile to her face. Poor Hannah. Amy knew what it was like to be the recipient of their father’s matchmaking.
The roof of Annette and Lubin’s cottage was visible in the distance, with smoke from their chimney curling upward, and she walked toward it. The fresh air caressed her skin, and to hear nothing but silence, apart from the slight breeze moving the vegetation and the crunch of her feet on the ground, restored her equanimity to a degree.
Above her, the sky was gray and filled with clouds that could not be relied upon to hold. She trained her eyes upward and followed the path of an eagle with a white-tipped tail as it soared, the world open before it. The bird of prey looked small, but she guessed its size would surprise her if she were to see it up close. Nature was one thing that provided tranquility no matter where one found oneself. It was far from certain she would enjoy the cities of Paris or Rome, which must both be as populous as London.
The wooden cane still leaned on the flat boulder where her father had been sitting. She picked it up, then wasted no time in crossing the plateau toward the trail to rejoin the town at the bottom of the hill. At first, she carried the cane as she walked, but then she began to use it, appreciating the feel of the smooth wood carvings underneath her palm.
The trail for foot passengers was narrow, and the sides of herbroad skirt brushed the grass on each side as she crossed the plain, admiring the wildflowers that grew there as she went. Soon, she entered the quiet of the woods and continued under its shade, where roots grew across the ground, making the path uneven. Going down was more difficult than the climb up had been. It required less exertion, but she had to force her legs to tense with every step so she would not slide on patches of mud. She was focused on this venture and almost missed the flash of color on her periphery. It was the accompanying movement that caught her eye.
She stopped suddenly with a shallow gasp, her heart accelerating until it beat in staccato.Oh heavens.Perhaps she had been unafraid earlier because she had been in the company of others. What if the woods were not like Charing but full of men in hiding who meant her harm? She had been naive to think she was invincible. What could she do now? If she screamed, no one was in earshot to come and help. And despite being young and healthy, she would not be able to resist anyone who came up against her.
The man’s form moved her way, his torso and face hidden by the trees. Amy pressed her lips together in grim determination as she pictured the ensuing fight. She did have this cane and would use it if the stranger attempted to harm her. Tightening her grip around its thickest part, she lifted it in readiness. It was in this tense position of defense that she saw James step around the tree and look up, his eyes widening in amazement.
“Miss Bridwell! Wh-why are you here—and alone? Did you not leave with your father?”
She lowered the cane slowly, recovering some of her breath as her surprise left her. She inhaled before answering him. “I did leave with him, but he forgot his cane.” She showed the item in question. “I came to retrieve it for him.”
“But why did your groom not turn the carriage back? You should not be walking these woods without an escort.” He appeared to be genuinely upset, and this caused a spark of anger toflare up in Amy. How dare he comment on her movements when he was clearly in love with another woman and was to marry her?
“You need not worry about me, Mr. Fletcher. You have Miss Prexley to see to.Iam perfectly capable of walking on my own without an escort. After all, I have done so my whole life.”
She started forward again, her pace as brisk as the descent would allow, and he moved to join her. Amy knew she was not being entirely reasonable, and that part of the tempest that had risen up in her came from her fear of meeting an unknown man in the woods before she realized the gentleman was James. However, she was tired of feeling conflicted about him—of missing him and knowing his heart lay elsewhere. It was time he stopped being apologetic or solicitous of her safety or comfort, or paying her any heed whatsoever.
“It is not the same as in Charing,” he persisted. “There, everybody knows you. There are no strangers, only tenant farmers and villagers. Here there are all sorts of unknowns, including no shortage of beggars who might be reduced to taking from you to keep from starving.”
Amy continued her steps at the same rhythm, although such a thing was difficult with the downward slope and the uneven path. His words did nothing to mollify her. “I can only repeat that I am no longer your concern.”
She did not turn to see how James received these stringent words, but she felt their effect in the pause that ensued. It went on for several minutes, and she almost thought he would walk at her side in complete silence the rest of the way.
