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CHAPTER 5
“Rebecca dear, where are you going?” Olivia asked.
Rebecca paused as she was about to slip out of the small door that led out to the stable yard. She wore a canary-yellow dress with a sky-blue coat covering the upper half with a matching bonnet, tied under her chin.
“I thought I would take the air now that the rain has broken. I do so love the fresh air after a rain shower,” Rebecca said.
Olivia was standing at the top of the narrow stairs that led from a passageway down to the stable door. It was concealed from the passageway by a panel that blended with all the others with which the passageway was lined. Rebecca had hoped that Olivia had not yet discovered the passageway, which she and Edward had known about since they were children.
Now, Olivia descended the stairs, carefully holding her skirts up to avoid dirtying them on the bare stone steps.
“Are you so sure it is a good idea to go outside while the air is so…damp?” she asked peevishly. “I am sure that it cannot be good for the chest to experience such sodden air.”
“It is perfectly fine, Aunt Olivia. You do worry so,” Rebecca said kindly.
She meant it too, Olivia could be a worry wort but she was also kind and understanding. Certainly more than Edward, now that he had inherited the dukedom.
“I do, because I have some life experience to draw on that tells me I should be worried.”
Rebecca hesitated, torn between placating her Aunt and the rendezvous that was her real reason for riding out. Finally, she took a few quick steps toward the older woman, hugged her briefly but tightly, and gave her a reassuring smile.
“I promise that if I feel a drop of rain in the air I will return home immediately,” Rebecca said smiling.
Olivia screwed up her face in consternation. “Oh, very well. I was also concerned after your contretemps with Edward earlier.”
Rebecca looked away and suppressed a burst of irritation.
“I do not wish to discuss that, Aunt Olivia. I’m sorry but I just don’t.”
“He means well, my dear. You know he is only looking out for your best interests.”
“By forcing me to marry a man I detest!” Rebecca shot back.
A stable man passing the door looked around sharply at her raised voice, then ducked his head and tugged his cap. Olivia took the door that Rebecca had been holding open, and closed it for privacy.
“You do not detest him. You barely know him,” she reminded Rebecca. “Besides, it is entirely within his rights as Duke and as your guardian, in the absence of your father.”
“I detest him precisely because he is complicit in my being parceled up and sold on like a piece of meat,” Rebecca said. “I will not argue the matter. He has made his thoughts perfectly clear. You agree with him. That just leaves me as the lone voice of dissension. So be it.”
Olivia looked pained. She wrung her hands. “Rebecca, I do wish you wouldn’t make this matter so black and white. I will also put your best interests before any other priority, just as if you were my own daughter. I am always on your side.”
Rebecca saw the anguish on her Aunt’s face and relented. She hugged her again and forced a smile.
“I know it, Aunt. And it gives me comfort to know that you have my interests at heart. It truly does. But, I must take my chance to ride now. Fielding has advised me that the rain will return before four this afternoon. Please do not worry.”
With a last smile of reassurance, she opened the door to the stables and stepped out. Rebecca hurried across the cobbled yard to where her white gelding, Swift, was stabled. That last part had been true. Fielding, the stable manager, had told her that the rain would return at least once more and that any outdoor pursuits should be undertaken now.
What no one knew, however, was that her outdoor pursuits involved a clandestine meeting with a man. Swift was ready and waiting in his stall when Rebecca got there. He tossed his head restively when he saw her, keen to be out. Within moments she was mounted, side-saddle and trotting out of the yard. A brick archway in the wall enclosing the stables led out onto a track that circled the great Wrexham gardens, screened from the view of the house by a raised bank topped by a dense hedgerow.
It was intended to give an uninterrupted view of the gardens from the house but served to give Rebecca a secret way out of the grounds. Once concealed by the hedgerow, she urged Swift to a faster trot. The air smelled fresh and green, and she took deep lungfuls as she rode. Her desire to experience the countryside after the rain was true. It was her favorite time to go out riding because of the wonderful clean feeling to the air.
The lane turned away from the gardens and wound through a copse of trees. Beyond was a hillside that flowed gently down to a narrow valley, itself cloaked in the deeper green of woods. In the distance, along that valley, a spire of smoke rose to indicate the presence of a dwelling. Reaching a wooden gate, she dismounted, using the top of a stone wall to step onto, then untied the gate and led Swift through.
Then she retied the gate, clambered back onto Swift, and spurred him down the hill. It was a shortcut to the Greendale Woods and the farm beyond that belonged to the Martens family, tenants of the Bolton family. As she reached the foot of the hill, she saw the Martens children, three boys aged from six to eleven, gathering firewood. She gave them a cheery wave and beckoned the eldest, Henry, over.
A fence separated them and Henry clambered over to stroke Swift’s nose, removing his cap, and making an effort to straighten his hair.
“Could you tell me, Henry, if you have seen Doctor Worthingham pass by?” Rebecca asked.
