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After which he was anxious to keep moving. He wanted to get home—strange how he was thinking of Woodrow Manor as home all of a sudden. But then he realized that it was home because that was where Cecey was, and he was desperate to see her and hold her in his arms again.

Thus, they pressed on through the night and the next morning, stopping only to change horses and to have another meal.

Rick learned that he had been held at Heybridge in Essex, where the River Blackwater weaved inland from the sea. He could only presume the plan had been to put him on a boat to the Americas or perhaps Australia. The state he was in, he may very well not have survived the voyage. It was a sobering thought.

Where his younger self might have welcomed the adventure of a sea voyage—though not in these circumstances—he found that he was less inclined to embrace adventure now. He had discovered something else that was more important. Cecelia. His wife. God, I miss her!

He realized with hindsight that he had been falling in love with his wife by degrees since their marriage. At first it was the sexual attraction that burned between them, but then as he got to know her better, her sunny and generous nature got into his blood, and her boldness earned his respect. And then came the carriage accident and the shock of almost losing her. That was when it happened. But he wasn’t self-aware enough to fully realize it.

He was a blockhead. It would serve him right if she banished him from her bed forever and refused to forgive him for being a selfish, weak-willed prick. How many times can a man let a woman down before she loses faith that he will ever stand by her side? He had made wedding vows to be there through thick and thin, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. Remorse made his eyes sting, and the ache in his chest was unbearable.

Despite his agony of mind, sheer exhaustion overcame him and he slept a good part of the journey. He was startled awake by Ward as the carriage turned into the long drive to the manor in the early evening. The sun was heading for the horizon but hadn’t set yet, shedding long shadows and golden beams of light across the lawns that had begun to be tamed and glinting off the windows of the house as they drew up to the front steps.

Rick could hardly wait for the carriage to stop, anticipation at seeing Cecey again making him impatient. All the aches and pains from his ordeal were forgotten at the prospect of holding her close and kissing her. And groveling on his knees for forgiveness.

Chapter 32

Once she had recovered from her fainting fit, Cecey tried to keep busy for the rest of the day, but it was hard to concentrate when her every thought was of Rick and what might have happened to him. She couldn’t stop imaging horrible things or rid herself of the fear that no one would ever find him.

At this point, she gave herself a severe talking to, because such speculations were fruitless and did more harm than good. She thought about what Rick would do, how he would handle a situation over which he had no control, and she realized he would let it go. It was at once the most infuriating and admirable thing about him, that he refused to become upset about things over which he had no control. He simply turned his thoughts and attention elsewhere.

“Easier said than done!” said Cecey to herself darkly. But with Rick’s example in her mind, she did her best, took some deep breaths to calm her racing pulse and clear her mind. After a few breaths, she did find that it helped stem the worst of her helpless panic.

She then turned her mind to the things that she could do, like planning the open day she had discussed with Rick for the autumnal equinox.

Rick was safe, she told herself firmly. His brother, Reynolds, and James would find him and bring him home, and they would be able to celebrate the autumnal equinox and the end of the harvest together with their tenants. And she added a “Please God, amen” at the end for good measure.

***

Thus, three days later she was buried in inventories of supplies, guest lists, and designs for a fairground and marquee she wanted to erect on the front lawns, when Hendrix ushered in the last person she expected to ever see again: Lord Bidenden.

He came into the room with a smile and a bow, and she sprang to her feet in alarm and said sharply, “Hendrix, please show this man out. He is not welcome here!”

But to her bewildered fury, Hendrix merely retreated and closed the door as if he hadn’t heard her.

“My dear Cecelia, that is hardly a friendly welcome, when I have come to offer my condolences and discover what I can do to ensure your comfort.” He said moving farther into the room.

“C-condolences? What are you t-talking about?” she stammered, grasping the chair back and retreating behind it and the desk to keep as much space between herself and this unwelcome guest as possible.

He frowned in puzzlement. “Are the rumors untrue?”

“W-what rumors?” She swallowed a sick feeling in her stomach.

“Why, that your husband has left you and subsequently suffered a fatal accident en route to London.”

Cecey’s vision darkened, and she clutched the chair hard and breathed through her nose to push it back. She would not faint! “How do you know that?”

“It’s all over the village, my dear.” He took a step toward her. “You are terribly pale. Please come and sit down. Don’t tell me you didn’t know?” He reached for her arm and tugged her gently toward him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her to the settee, where she sank down and closed her eyes.

“It’s not true,” she whispered brokenly. It couldn’t be!

“I am so sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said, seating himself beside her and grasping her hand. “How can you not have heard the tale?”

“It’s not true!” she insisted vehemently.

“I am afraid it is, my dear. He was seen crossing the River Flit, several nights ago. For some reason, he dismounted from his horse on the bridge. It’s an old bridge, you know, with a low, wooden parapet. By all accounts, he was somewhat unsteady on his feet. He approached the parapet, and by what the eyewitness said, he lost his balance and went over the parapet into the water, striking his head on a rock and disappearing below the surface. The witness jumped in to try to rescue him, but the river’s current at that point is strong, and the witness was unable to find the body.”

“No!” Cecey shook her head. “No!” She shook her head. “If it were true, someone would have told me by now.” If it were true, Hereward or Reynolds would have returned or sent word to tell her. It wasn’t true! She lifted her head and stared at this man who had done his best to ruin her life and realized that, far from achieving that aim, he had given her the best gift of all: Rick. Whatever his aim now, it wasn’t good, and he wouldn’t succeed.