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Chapter 18
“What is your plan now, then? To escape the house?” Sherborne asked as Violette hurried down the staircase, pulling on her hat. He was rushing alongside her, desperately trying to keep up.
“Yes.”
“Excellent! I shall go pack.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Violette reached out and grabbed Sherborne’s arm, pulling him to a stop midway down the staircase to keep him from escaping back up the stairs. “I’m escaping the house for an hour only, a short walk. Not forever.”
“Miss,” Sherborne said, ruffling his hair in panic, “do you not think this a dangerous situation? The more and more people come here, the more likely you are to be discovered!” He spoke in a harried whisper. She looked away from him, swallowing nervously. She had decided not to tell Sherborne that she knew Lady Helen before, knowing that he would have demanded she leave at once. As it was, he was just highly recommending she left.
“I will not be,” she said with strength. “My ruse has worked so far and there is no reason to think it will not continue to do so.” She took another step down.
“But Miss…ter.” He added the latter part just as two figures came into view at the bottom of the staircase. Violette turned and waved Sherborne away, for it was Lord Northrive and Lady Helen who had appeared. “You cannot avoid this.” Sherborne mouthed the words.
“I can’t hear you,” she whispered, pretending not to have understood him, and waved him away again. He sighed and hurried up the steps, just as she turned back round, ready to descend the last of the steps.
Neither Lord Northrive nor Lady Helen had yet noticed her presence and were both deep in conversation.
“Perhaps a walk, Lady Helen?” Lord Northrive asked, evidently with clear hope. “It is a beautiful day outside. I could show you more of the estate.”
“You are kind, my lord, but if I spend too long in the sun, I suffer from it. I invariably end up with a headache or ill skin. No, I think I will spend some time indoors today.” She spoke with conviction, leaving Lord Northrive to look disappointed. “I look forward to seeing you for tea later, my lord.” She curtsied to him and went to walk away, but not without laying a hand to his arm in an intimate way.
Violette’s back went rigid at the sight of the touch and her hands balled into fists. As Lady Helen walked off toward the library, repeatedly glancing back to Lord Northrive as though checking that he was watching her, Violette grew more and more impatient.
“Ah-em,” she said, clearing her throat. Lord Northrive whipped his head round, his eyes widening in surprise when he found her standing so close on the staircase. “Am I interrupting?” she asked as Lady Helen disappeared into the library.
“No,” Lord Northrive said with a sigh. “What do you say to a ride?”
“Me?” Violette said in surprise. “Forgive me, my lord, but I thought you would want to spend some time with your other guests.” She gestured toward the closed door of the library.
“Right now…I’d much prefer that ride. Say you’ll come?”
Violette smiled in answer.
***
“This is better.” Marcus breathed with a sigh of relief as he and Mr Blake came to a stop with their horses at the top of the estate.
“Better?” Mr Blake called to him in surprise.
“There’s something about being out here, with you and the horses, looking down on the estate like this. I feel…” He hesitated, looking out around them. They were at the highest point in the grounds, looking down from a hill, his eyes sweeping across the trees, the river and onto the house. “Free.”
“Then perhaps we should stay here a while,” Mr Blake said with a smile and began to clamber down from his horse.
Marcus watched the way he climbed down, reminded of what he had thought the last time he had seen Mr Blake dismount. There was something odd about it. Marcus shook it off and climbed down from his horse too. They both fastened their horses’ reigns to a nearby tree branch and turned to sit on a mound of grass, surveying the estate.
“You look infinitely happier here than you did this morning,” Mr Blake said.
“Perceptive of you.” Marcus glanced at his friend, seeing the way he shrugged.
“What are friends for but to tell when something is wrong?” he asked with a smile before that smile vanished. “Would you like to tell me what is wrong?”
Marcus sat forward abruptly on the grassy mound, looking down at the blades of grass between his Hessian boots. He was going to object and keep his thoughts to himself, yet he didn’t. Instead, his secret came out anyway. He knew he could trust Mr Blake, perhaps more than any other man he had ever met. What would be the harm in sharing this secret?
“The last time I attempted to court a lady, it was something of a disaster.”
“What do you mean?” Mr Blake said, sitting forward too.
