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‘I spent a sleepless night in the servants’ quarters trying to get comfortable on a straw palliasse placed in the hall. The boot boy snored and so did your maid’s gentleman friend. He seemed to take it all in his stride. I suppose that’s how he sleeps anyway.’
Nancy felt Molly squirming with indignation at her side and she gave her a comforting pat on the hand. ‘That’s unkind, Gervase. Reuben is a good man.’
‘And I’m not, I suppose. Well, you’re probably right, but I know where I’m not wanted so I followed Reuben and I waited until the carriage had left before throwing myself on your mercy.’
‘I could ask Mason to stop and put you out at the gate, but I suppose you would find some way of getting to Rockwood on your own.’
‘I told you, I want to go to Greystone Park.’
‘Then why did you go out of your way to find me? From the little I know of you, Gervase, you never do anything unless it’s going to benefit you in some way.’
He laughed. ‘How astute you are, Nancy.’
‘Well then, Gervase, we have a long journey ahead. I suggest you tell me exactly what you are planning.’
He sat back in his seat, eyeing her with an inscrutable expression. ‘I intend to claim my rights.’
‘And what are they exactly?’
‘I should have inherited Greystone Park, as I’ve said before. I intend to take up residence and claim my rightful place in society.’
‘And I’ve told you that Christina won’t allow it.’
‘What is she going to do? Her pious husband won’t declare war on me, that’s for certain. She can nag and bully all she likes but I am going to stand up to her.’
‘What about poor Sylvia? What will you do when she returns from Switzerland?’
‘If she returns.’
‘Don’t say things like that, Gervase. Of course she will get better. Mr and Mrs Pennington will make sure she has the finest treatment that money can buy.’
‘She can have her old room, if she wishes. I’ve nothing against Sylvia, it’s Christina I cannot abide.’
‘We’ve had this discussion before. You won’t win, Gervase.’
He tapped the side of his nose. ‘I have plans, my dear. You’ll see.’
‘If we are to travel together I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have problems of my own.’
‘Ah, yes, the titled buffoon. I could see that you and he were getting a bit too close.’
Nancy leaned forward, eyeing him coldly. ‘Freddie is not a buffoon. He is the kindest, nicest person I have ever met, but it’s better for everyone if I leave before things get too complicated. In that, I actually agree with his mother, which is why we have the luxury of the Dorringtons’ carriage to take us home.’
Gervase smiled. ‘You know best, my dear.’ He closed his eyes and slept.
The roads were hazardous and the carriage wheels slipped on the icy surface, but Mason was an experienced coachman and by midday they were halfway to Rockwood. They stopped at a village inn to rest the horses and they ate in the landlord’s parlour before travelling on. Nancy tried to put Freddie out of her mind. She knew she was doing the right thing by removing herself from a deepening relationship, but it troubled her that she had not been able to say goodbye to him. Molly was quietly sympathetic, perhaps because she had found happiness with Reuben. They sat together in the parlour, talking in whispers, which obviously irritated Gervase, who kept giving them warning looks. Nancy ignored him.
When they were refreshed and the horses back in harness, they set off again heading south towards the Devonshire coast. The snow was not so deep here and as they neared the sea the roads became more passable. As the sky darkened Nancy could not help thinking about the servants’ ball at Dorrington Place. She had promised Freddie that she would attend, but by now he would know that she had abandoned him, and the thought of his distress brought tears to her eyes. She knew she was doing the right thing, but that would not cure the ache in her heart for the loss of a dear friend.
It was a relief when she began to recognise familiar landmarks in the gathering gloom, although by the time they reached the outskirts of Rockwood village the only lights came from candles in cottage windows reflecting on the soft white snow. She had given Mason instructions to stop outside the gates of Greystone Park, having no intention of burdening her family with Gervase’s presence, even for one night. He wanted to claim what he considered to be his birthright, so he could start there and then.
‘Why are we stopping here?’ Gervase demanded, peering out of the carriage window.
‘This is where you wished to be,’ Nancy said firmly. ‘Out you get, Gervase. This is your home, or so you say.’
‘Yes, but I don’t intend to arrive on foot. That wouldn’t impress the servants. There might not be anyone at home.’
‘As far as I remember, Foster and Mrs Simpson are still there, and Mrs Banks, the cook. You will be quite comfortable.’
