‘We only came to pass on a message from that friend of yours.’
‘The one on the black horse.’
‘He came smash up to us in the bluebell clearing where we showed you the badger’s set.’
‘Asked where you were. Told us to tell you he wanted to see you. And that he’s staying at the Silent Woman down at Shevington Crossroads.’
‘And then he clapped his hand to his head and went a funny colour and kind of hunched over the horse’s mane.’
‘Think he was going to be sick.’
‘Anyway, we said we’d tell you he needed to see you, and we have.’
‘But we ain’t going to do you any more favours!’
‘We thought you were our friend!’ cried Tobe angrily.
‘I am…’ she protested, but it was too late. The pair of them had dashed from the room, slamming the door behind them. She buried her head in her hands again with a groan. The twins were all that made life at Shevington bearable. She had not expected they would give up their outdoor pursuits, to sit and keep her company. But now that the earl had turned them against her, they would go out of their way to avoid her. She would not see one friendly face, from one end of the day to the next.
When Cobbett arrived with the mail, she felt as though he had thrown her a lifeline. There were still people who cared about her. Her aunt corresponded regularly, and Rick wrote when he had time. Letters from Gerry were rare, and tended to come in batches, depending on the vagaries of shipping.
Today, only a single letter lay on the silver salver. She recognized the crabbed handwriting as that of her stepbrother Nick. It was with some surprise that she broke open the wafer. This was only the second time he had written since she had come to Shevington, and that had only been a polite little missive, in which he had expressed his gratification she had married so advantageously.
But the news he had for her this time dealt her such a blow, she did not know how she could bear it, coming as it did so swiftly behind everything else that had occurred that day.
Gerry was dead. Of a fever. Nick had written as soon as he received the news, but her stepbrother, it seemed, had already been dead for several weeks.
She could hardly take it in. How could Gerry be dead? She had sent him a letter only the day before!
She let Nick’s letter drift to the carpet as the horrible truth sank in. Gerry would never read that last letter she had written to him. She would never see him again.
His life was over.
No more promotions. No more adventurous tales to enthral his little sister.
No more Gerry.
Eventually her eyes focussed on the opulent room in which she was sitting.
Alone.
There was nobody with whom she could share her grief.
Nobody who cared a rap about how she felt.
Though she had tried so hard to fit in. She had thought she was making some headway, but today she had learned just how little any of them cared about her. Today, they had all turned their backs on her, one after the other.
She had known she did not belong in the place, right from the very first moment she had set eyes on the outside of the buildings! Right from the first moment…her eyes lighted on the hideous vase squatting on the low table by the fireplace. She could not believe she had gone to such lengths to save such an ugly piece of porcelain. Or to have worked so hard to ingratiate herself with a set of people who had all let her down so badly.
Leaping to her feet, she picked up the vase that seemed to represent all that was ugly about Shevington, raised it above her head and hurled it into the hearth with a wild cry of fury.
It shattered into dozens of pieces with a resounding crash that went some way to consoling her.
But it was not enough. Not nearly enough.
Gerry was dead. Buried in some far-off land. So far away she would never have a chance to so much as lay flowers on his grave.
Even if Monty and his father ever let her set foot outside the walls of Shevington Court again! For the earl had more or less threatened to keep her imprisoned here.
She could not stand it.
The walls felt as if they were closing in on her.
Tearing at the buttons to her high-necked morning dress, she ran to the door and flung it open, half expecting to find a guard posted outside. It was almost an anticlimax to find nobody there.
She lifted her chin and strode along the corridor to the stairs. There was nothing wrong with going for a walk if she wanted! Just let anyone try and stop her!
With her fists clenched firmly, she marched right out of the front door. In spite of the earl threatening to set his staff to watch her every move, she did not encounter a single soul as she ran round the side of the house and across the neatly mown lawns. She was in such a state that she scarcely knew where she was going. It was only when the acrid scent of crushed cow parsley assailed her nostrils that she realized she had left the formal gardens altogether and was entering the fringes of the woodland. And only then did it occur to her that what she needed was to reach some spot from which the walls of Shevington would be completely invisible.
She plunged through the bracken, ducking under low branches and skirting bramble thickets, until she reached a hazel coppice. Only then did she tilt back her head and let out the scream that had been building inside her since…since…she doubled over with grief. It was all of it, coming together that had so shattered her. Not just the news of Gerry’s death, but the earl’s attack, the twins defection and Monty’s un-faithfulness, all coming so swiftly, one after another.
The clearing echoed with the panicked alarm calls of the flurry of birds which had risen en masse when she had screamed.
Then desolate silence descended through the still leafless branches.
Reminding her that she was on her own.
If only Rick were here…but he was not. His duties had carried him to a foreign land.
But even if he were here, things would never be the same between them. Not now that she had married his friend. She would never be able to confide in him completely. Not if her concerns related to Monty.
Now there was nobody, she gasped, not one soul to whom she could turn for comfort.
Nobody who cared one way or the other…
Except…She went very still.
Stephen had followed her down here. He wanted to see her.
And he was her brother. She lifted her chin and threw back her shoulders. If there was a chance, no matter how slim, that this last communication from Stephen might lead to some form of reconciliation, then she had to take it. She needed to take it. She had only avoided meeting him up till now out of respect for Monty’s wishes. But what did his good opinion matter to her now?
He had deceived her and abandoned her…oh, very well, not deceived her. Not on purpose. It was her own fault if she had assumed his kindness and for-bearance meant anything.
But in the long run, she sniffed, it might have been better for her if he had not tried to be kind to her. At least then she might not have fallen in love with him. And then his haste to leave her to find a pretty mistress as compensation for doing his repulsive duty with her might not hurt so much that she no longer cared if Stephen did plan to harm her!
Wiping