Page 9 of Once Ruined, Twice Shy

Oh, to have such love from one’s mother! Hestia’s eyes moistened as she regarded Lady Corsbury.

No, she mustn’t be foolish and soften her heart towards him. She was here to perform a duty. But the fact that Methuen had lost his fiancée just a week before their wedding was appalling. Frederick hadn’t mentioned that part of the story. How did anyone get over such a thing?

“You are wondering how we have coped—I can see. Come now, I didn’t make mean to make you melancholy. You’ve injured yourself, and my purpose in coming here was to cheer you up. I assure you, we manage well enough. Conall busies himself about the estate and over his figures— he barely leaves anything for his steward to do. So long as he can exhaust himself during the day, he slumbers peacefully at night without tossing and turning and recalling those dreadful memories.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, was your son in the army? I see he’s been injured in the eye and bears a damaged hand also, which seems to pain him.”

“An accident with a pistol. God sends great trials, even to the best of men—which my son undoubtedly is.”

There was a knock at the door. Lady Corsbury rose as a servant entered, bearing a portable writing slope. The girl bobbed to her. “Your pardon, my lady. I have brought the writing things for Miss Norton.”

“I’ll leave you to arrange yourself comfortably so you may write your letter. The Danceys will want to know what has become of you. Although you had better ask the people at the Red Lion to forward it. Conall won’t allow anyone from Spyle to go near Thatcham Hall—he can’t bear to have the place mentioned. A very unnecessary stance, in my view, but it can’t be helped. I’m assuming you have nightclothes in your luggage?”

Hestia nodded. She’d been put to bed in her shift, which was of very thin material.

“Good. But don’t hesitate to ask for some of mine should you run short of linens. I can have my maid take them in for you.”

“You’re too kind, your Ladyship.”

“Emily. You may call me Emily, or Lady Emily if you’d rather. Now, don’t overtax yourself—and move very carefully about the bed. You have one of the biggest in the house, so there should be plenty of room to manoeuvre without hurting yourself.”

Hestia was left alone with the servant, who helped her roll over onto her front, then opened up the writing box and positioned it for her so she could compose her note to Frederick at the Red Lion.

She must also pretend to write a note for the Danceys, who she’d claimed to be visiting. It was easy enough—she folded an empty page and addressed it to Thatcham Hall, care of the Red Lion, Laycott. Frederick had already stated he’d be on the lookout for these notes and would intercept them before they reached the landlord. If things went awry, he would do whatever explaining was necessary—she mustn’t worry herself about it.

She then began the letter to Frederick.

My Darling Frederick,

You will be pleased to hear I am still in one piece, and have been welcomed into the Methuen family with open arms.

She chewed her pencil. Methuen’s fiancée had died a week before the wedding. He’d loved her dearly—even if he had stolen the woman from Frederick, the loss to him must have been unbearable. How could she, in all conscience, further torture a man who was already broken?

I have hurt my back, but it is only a sprain and will need a little rest. As soon as I am well, I shall return to Bath. Alas, I do not feel able to be a party to your scheme any longer. Having met Methuen, I now believe you and he should sort out your differences face-to-face, as one man to another. If he uncovers our plot, his rage will be terrible, and his revenge worse. Therefore, I implore you, abandon this scheme. We will talk further after I am well enough to return to Bath. In the meantime, I shall continue to befriend him and will do my utmost to ensure that when the two of you meet, he will be receptive to what you have to say, and will cease hounding you.

I am sure you will see this is the best way forward.

Your ever-loving Hestia

She folded the letter, her heart thundering as she pictured Frederick’s face when he read it. But he’d come around given time—he was a sensible man, even if he did have a tendency to get into a passion about things. If they could persuade Methuen to release the pressure and ameliorate their financial worries, Frederick’s mood would be significantly improved. He might once again be the courageous, carefree young man with whom she’d fallen in love.

Hestia rang the little bell by the bedside to signal she’d finished her letters. Her gaze fell on the laudanum mixture on the table. A little oblivion would be most welcome while she waited for Frederick’s reply, instead of agonising over how he would respond.

No. It was time to grow up and face the consequences of her actions.

Whatever those might be.

Chapter 6

Luncheon was completed. His accounts, though rushed, had been done, and it was time for Conall to walk over to Home Farm and find out how the wheat was doing. The poor weather recently had stunted its growth, but he was hoping now the sun had returned, it would show an improvement. After that, he’d return home and examine the greenhouses, to ensure they contained enough fruit and vegetables to keep the household in good health.

Only… it wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to go up and gaze at the sleeping Miss Norton again. Her brown hair and dark lashes reminded him of Josephine’s colouring—not fashionable, but striking nonetheless. Hestia had less refinement about her, but in a way that was good—her attractions called out to him directly, as a man, rather than as a gentleman. The fact of the matter was, he found her damnably attractive.

Lingering in the hallway, watched by a hovering footman ready to provide hat and coat in the blink of an eye, he made his decision.

“I shan’t be going out immediately, Gaisford, thank you. You may return to your duties.”

As Conall mounted the stairs, the striking of the clocks assaulted him, goading him to change his mind and return to routine. He battled the guilt—and won, entering Miss Norton’s room without knocking a few moments later.