AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And if she decided not to antagonise Richard, chose not to speak on behalf of Samuel, she would forever hold guilt over his fate. Between the two of them, he and Richard had placed their mother in a terrible position. One for which Samuel could see no solution, but which would, despite that, reach a conclusion all too soon.
Chapter Fifteen
Ellie supposed the Duke of Aspen’s country seat to be lovely. The parlour in which she sat opposite her sister, each of them with an open book, loomed large and bright. The ceiling, so high above that two normal rooms could be stacked without touching it, was painted in a lovely rendition of a spring garden which reminded Ellie of the butterfly meadow on the canopy over the bed she’d slept in while in their London home. Somewhere in the past of the Duke’s line, someone had obviously had a fondness for butterflies. Far below their fluttering wings, cheerfully upholstered couches and chairs clustered about in seating areas that extended from the fireplace at one end of the large room to the fireplace at the other. Everything appeared fresh and clean and expensive.
And Ellie hated it. Each thread. Every bit of gilded frame around every portrait. The marble, the mahogany. All of it.
How had she permitted her extraction from London? With every passing mile, the feeling of moving away from Samuel had grown. Now, it pressed on her, rendering normal breathing difficult. Each inhalation came with pain. Each exhalation, she stifled the need to cry.
She must return. She had to tell him that she knew he wasn’t guilty. He would never have stolen a journal, or had a French mistress, or tried to seduce her sister. How she’d even believed such things for a moment baffled Ellie. She’d been so startled, so betrayed, as to defy rational thought, but rationality had returned and, with it, certainty of his innocence.
But now she sat in a gilded cage, miles from London, without enough funds or knowledge of the roadways to get back. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. She could bribe a servant. Someone who knew the way. Inexpensive means of travel existed. She must ask after the nearest town, surely in walking distance, and the mail coach. She would save what little funds she had for that, and bribe a servant with her jewellery. That would be the best way. She need only work out who to ask. Someone who would have the knowledge she sought, but be greedy or disloyal enough not to report her plan to Lizzy May and the Duke.
Did they even employ anyone like that?
Could she trust such a person if she managed to locate them?
She slammed her book closed.
Opposite her, Lizzy May jumped. “Goodness, Ellie, you startled me.”
“I’m sorry,” Ellie muttered. She opened the book again. She couldn’t go running about scrutinising servants while under the watchful gaze of her sister.
“Whatever did you slam your book closed for?”
“A fly on the page,” Ellie lied.
Lizzy May’s eyes flew wide. “You didn’t get it, did you? You smashed a fly in my book?”
Ellie sighed. “No. It got away.”
“Thank goodness.”
“Yes. We’re all very grateful.”
Lizzy May offered a frown at that, but returned to reading, flipping pages as fast as Ellie did when she played. As perhaps she should. In London, Ellie had hardly touched a pianoforte. For the first time in her memory, she hadn’t practiced every day. That, then, was the difference between her love of playing and Lizzy May’s love of books. Nothing was so interesting or wonderful that Lizzy May didn’t read every day, but London with the parties and the sights and the chance to see Samuel, that had distracted Ellie so much that she hadn’t played.
And now it was all gone, most especially the chance to see Samuel. In the front hall, a knock sounded. Ellie resisted the urge to jump up, knowing that the Duke’s butler would answer. Besides, Samuel wouldn’t have come all that way. Not with his trial set to begin tomorrow. Which was why she must find a way back.
“Is there a village nearby to which we might walk?” she asked, not looking up from the book, as if she hardly noticed that the words had left her mouth.
“Village?”
“Hm. For ribbons or books.”
“None are so near that we may walk, but we can take the carriage one day.”
“That would be pleasant,” Ellie said and ground her teeth closed.
“…simply must see Her Grace,” a feminine voice cried in the entrance hall.
Did that voice have a French accent?
A glance showed Lizzy May had heard as well. Opposite Ellie, she held a finger to the page, marking her place, and peered in the direction of the entrance hall.
“I wonder what that is about.”
“Would you like me to check?” Ellie asked. It seemed impossible that the one French speaking woman Ellie could think of might be there, asking for Lizzy May, but if she were, it could be terribly important.
