“My Lady? Can we enter?”
Judy returned, with another maid, carrying a wooden bathtub between them. They left it by the fireplace. Hestony stood and hastily started to undo her own wet gown – she wanted nothing more than to be out of it. She dropped it in a crumpled mess on the chair by the bay-windows: she never wanted to wear it again or even see it.
“Here’s the water,” Judy said gently, pouring from a large bucket into the bath. Fragrant and steaming, the water brought its own scents to the room. Hestony breathed deeply, letting the fragrance rejuvenate her.
When the bath was full, Judy untied Hestony’s stays and she slipped out of her shift into the bath. As if on some kind of instinct, Judy stepped out of the room, leaving Hestony alone.
She lay in the water a long while. It warmed her bones and seemed, at least in part, to wash away the horrors she’d lived. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the rim of the bath, letting the scent of lavender in the soap soothe her senses.
When the clock in the distant church chimed the hour, she sat up with a shock. It was nine in the evening! Hastily grabbing the linen Judy had left to warm by the fire, she dried herself and pulled the bell to dress. She really should find some dinner. It would have finished an hour ago downstairs.
Dressed, she hastened down to the dining-room. As she had guessed, it was empty. The long velvet drapes were drawn over the windows. The table was empty of cutlery and crockery; it had already been cleared away for the day.
The butler walked past the door briskly. She called to him.
“Can you have a tray taken to my room, Mr. Halston?”
“My Lady! Of course.” He bowed swiftly and cast her a caring look before he left. Hestony bit back tears. Oddly, she hadn’t expected anyone to sympathize. Her first instinct had been to hide her fear and pain.
She returned to her room, where a maid brought her a tray. She accepted it, breathing in the scents of fragrant gravy. While she was eating – the room silent but for the click of cutlery and the gentle noise of the ceramic-faced clock – she heard footsteps. Her spine went stiff. She dropped the knife.
“Daughter?” her mother said from the doorway. “Where have you been? I was so worried, when you didn’t come to dinner…”
“Mother, I’m quite well,” Hestony said wearily. “Please. I simply wish to be alone.”
“Alone?” her mother protested shrilly. “You’ve hardly seen me! You spent all your time this morning, since your return, at Cousin Emilia’s. I saw you briefly at tea and then you disappeared again. If this is what happens when you go to London, I think it’s high time you stopped.”
Hestony felt a weariness beyond anger as she turned to the door.
“Mama, I am tired. I feel unwell. I want nothing more than to eat my supper and retire to bed. I do not wish to argue. I will visit Emilia tomorrow.”
“There you go again!” her mother retorted. “What’s so good about Emilia, that you run off to see her? Does she manage this estate, and keep all of us stocked with victuals?”
Hestony shut her eyes. Her mother’s favorite theme, whenever she was feeling unheard, was to reel off the list of all the things she did and how grateful everyone should be. As a child, Hestony had been utterly undone whenever she did it, disarmed by guilt. Now, she was simply too tired.
“Mother, I wish to see Emilia to discuss a matter with her. I believe it is in all of our interests that I do so. Now, I wish to retire to bed.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed.
“Hestony…it’s high time you thought more about…” Her mother began, but Hestony simply stood and walked down the hallway. She heard her mother saying something more, but she ran to her room and shut the door, leaning on the handles as if to stop anyone from opening it.
When she had locked the door, she sat down on the bed and closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks, fast and hot. She wrapped her arms around her body and wished for a minute that she was far away from here. No Mama, no highwaymen. No danger.
Just herself, blue sky and space.
“Hestony, you’re not a wild creature,” she reproached herself crossly. She had not the luxury of freedom. She had to stay here and face her responsibilities. Even if it killed her.
She made herself get to her feet and undress for bed. She called Judy to help and comb her hair, but she evaded conversation, pleading weariness.
When Judy had gone, she slipped into bed and rolled up in a ball, drawing her knees up to her chest. She didn’t want to cry – if she cried before she slept, she would not look her best – but she couldn’t help it.
The only thing she could think of – the only happy thing – was that she would be visiting her cousins tomorrow. The thought of Emilia’s smiling face filled her heart with happiness and relief.
Chapter Seventeen
A Planned Visit
Hal tensed his back as he rode. He had been so long out of the saddle and riding in coaches instead, that every jolt of the horse’s motion seemed to stab into his spine. His legs ached too, making the whole ride even more tense and discomforting. Gritting his teeth, trying to keep his back as straight and proper as it should be, he rode on across the fields to Amhurst Hall.
A light rain fell, clinging to his shoulders of his jacket, making his fingers stiff with cold. He grimaced and rode on through the fields. In the distance he saw the manor, rising dark-gray and strangely-imposing, over the landscape.
“Greetings. Is Lady Hestony in?” he said politely to the butler, when he answered the door.
“She is, sir,” the butler nodded. “The breakfast room—this way. ”
Hal smiled cheerfully, shrugging out of his coat as the fellow held out a hand, to take it.
“Very good sir,” the butler said, leading the way. Hal followed him up the stairs, taking them at a brisk pace. He barely noticed the back-ache: seeing Hestony was an exciting prospect. He had become accustomed to seeing her every day and found that he felt her absence keenly.
“Mr. Ellington, My Lady,” the butler announced.
“Lady Hestony?” Hal called as he stepped past the breakfast room.
He tensed when Lady Hartfield shifted in her seat and fixed him with a stern eye.
“Lady Hestony isn’t here,” she said. She gave him a look that made him half-think she’d found him clinging to some vegetables in the market, a noxious insect.
“My Lady? May I ask where she is?”
“She’s gone to visit her cousin,” Lady Hartfield said, standing up from where she finished her breakfast. “Are you aware of manners?”