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“I don’t pretend to understand but…whatever the Lady needs. Lead the way.”
Alice found herself smiling. Gladwell’s easy acceptance of her actions was refreshing. He clearly preferred to be able to be by her side to protect her than try to argue her out of what she had decided to do. She led him through the house, through the servant’s quarters in a blur, and out into the stable yard. A brand new carriage stood in the stable yard, one she had never seen before. Further evidence of Simon’s change in fortune.
A stable lad, another newcomer, looked up from his work in the stables.
“I require two horses for the carriage. Immediately, please,” Alice ordered.
The stable lad looked uncertain, leaning on a fork he had been using to bring hay down from the loft into the stalls.
“Sorry ma’am, but I don’t really know who you are,” he said.
“She is Lady Alice Hathway and your mistress you young layabouts!” Gladwell barked.
Suddenly, his gangly frame seemed very unfunny. His face was set and his voice carried a parade ground bark.
“Now, jump to your orders. This is a matter of urgency.”
The lad did indeed jump and in moments, two horses were bridled and hitched to the carriage. Gladwell helped Alice into the carriage. Then they were on their way.
“Does the money my brother has suddenly found come from you?” Alice asked, deciding to tackle the question head-on.
“No. How could it?” Gladwell replied.
“But, he was hoping to marry me off to you,” Alice said. “I thought maybe that Lindley’s newfound fortune was courtesy of you. Perhaps, in advance of our two families being joined.”
“Yes. But, in point of fact, Simon offered a handsome dowry for you,” Gladwell said. “It is not a subject I feel comfortable discussing in front of you.”
He did seem uncomfortable, shifting in his seat.
“I apologize. I am kept in the dark by my brother and have discovered the only way to be enlightened is to be direct.”
“An admirable quality. I hope the Duke of Redwood appreciates it,” Gladwell said.
Alice looked at him in surprise. Gladwell smiled.
“I am not blind,” he said kindly. “Do not worry. You will be at his side soon.”
CHAPTER44
Harold ran through the woods. Ahead, flitting in and out of the trees was a woman in flowing white. She was a ray of light amid the dark trees.
“Eloise!” He called out, as he had many times before in this dream.
Somewhere in the distance came the distinctive rumble of artillery and the cries of men. The woman did not look back. She dodged and weaved around the slender boles, like a ghost.
“Eloise, wait!” Harold shouted.
But the name didn’t feel right in his mouth any longer. It felt awkward on his lips. As though it did not fit the phantom that he was chasing.
“Alice!” He tried.
She turned, stopping in her flight, with one hand resting lightly on the trunk of a birch tree. He tried to run faster, to close the distance between them. But he could not. His limbs would not obey him in any coordinated way. He stumbled over roots and rocks. And all the while the guns in the distance grew closer. The sounds of war drawing ever nearer.
“Alice, we must get away from here,” he called out.
But she was away again, running so swift it was as though her feet did not touch the ground. Then she vanished as the ground fell away and she disappeared over the edge. By the time Harold reached the spot, she had gotten as far as the floor of a dell. Again she stopped and turned. A gap in the trees overhead allowed a shaft of sunlight to illuminate her.
It was as though God were giving him one last perfect glimpse. Because he had dreamed this dream before. Previously, it had been Eloise that he chased in vain. Chased while the sounds of battle grew nearer. Chased until those sounds caught up.
