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She was ashamed of herself for feeling as she did about Felicity, and for finding it so hard to forgive Blake for his continuing attachment. She should be willing to forgive his attempts at deception too, she knew. Perhaps a little penitence would ease her conscience and her emotions. And if she achieved some inner calm then she would speak to him about the children she hoped the future would hold.
*
‘I want to follow the stream today,’ she said to Finch as he mounted the steady grey gelding he used when he rode out w
ith her.
He had tucked the small posy of roses into one of his saddlebags, where it looked almost comical against the battered leather.
‘There must be some lovely spots for a picnic, and his lordship said something about trout fishing. I thought to surprise him with a little expedition if this better weather holds up. Then I want to go on to the church.’
‘It’s a fine trout stream, my lady,’ Finch agreed. ‘I can show you the best fishing spots. But as for picnic places—you’ll be the best judge of those. If you turn left under the arch we can cut through the spinney to the riverside path. If we’re quiet you might see kingfishers,’ he added.
It was a joy to amble along the riverbank, with rare sunshine sparkling on the water as it chattered in its shallow gravel bed. The willow trees made shade, wild flowers spangled the turf, and they passed one delightful little bay after another—all of them, Finch assured her, excellent fishing spots.
It was almost time to turn and cut across the meadows to the church when Finch saw the kingfisher. ‘See, my lady? There on that bare branch over the water. That’s his fishing spot. If we walk slowly we can get a bit closer.’
They reached an open patch of grass where a track from the hay fields met the riverbank and stopped there while the tiny jewelled bird dived and came back to his branch, beak empty. He tried again and this time brought back a fish.
After perhaps ten minutes it flew away, a blue speck vanishing upstream into the shadow, and Ellie turned Toffee’s head towards the village with a sigh of pleasure.
‘That was magical.’
She felt so much better, so much more tranquil and at peace as they rode up to the churchyard gate. Finch helped her down and handed her the nosegay, then took the horses off to the water trough on the green.
Ellie saw Tuscan as she turned the corner of the church’s western end. There was no mistaking the big stallion. He was tied up at the gate that led towards the Trentons’ house and she drew back behind a large table tomb at the sight.
Blake was standing in front of Felicity’s memorial, hat in hand, one hand pressed against the stone urn. He seemed deep in thought. Then he put down his hat, took something from his pocket and stretched up to move the ornate lid of the urn that topped the column. Even at his height Blake could hardly reach, but he dropped the object in and moved the cover back.
Ellie was not sure how she got there, but she found herself sitting on the broad wooden bench inside the lych gate. How could he? Leaving tokens like that could only mean that, far from being put aside, Blake’s love for his lost beauty must be as profound as ever.
I swear to you, he had said, only yesterday.
He had lied to her, and all the closeness that she had thought was growing between them, all the trust and hope that one day he might even come to love her, his wife, was simply self-delusion.
Her skimpy breakfast churned in her stomach, and Finch found her a few minutes later retching miserably behind the wall.
‘I’ll take you along to the vicarage, my lady, and ride back for the carriage,’ he said when she straightened up and accepted the red spotted handkerchief that he had soaked under the pump.
‘I am all right now, thank you, Finch.’
‘I’m not at all sure you should be riding, my lady. Not at this stage of things.’
‘What things?’ Ellie blinked at him, trying to make sense of his words while she fought not to give way to tears.
‘Why, you are with child, are you not, my lady?’ he asked in his straightforward manner.
For the second time in her life Ellie fainted.
Chapter Twenty
Ellie recovered consciousness almost immediately—in time to stop Finch shouting for help and carrying her off to the vicarage.
‘How do you know?’ she demanded.
‘My ma and my sisters have all had plenty of babes,’ he said. ‘There’s a look that women get. And then you were sick.’
‘I will ride back,’ she said. ‘Toffee is as steady as the coach would be, and I do not want any fuss.’
