Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

D iana was in a cozy sitting room, a book resting in her hands, the lazy sun making her skin glow with warmth. Her father’s voice was a gentle rumble as he read aloud from one of his favorite novels. Purple wisteria draped over the windows outside like feathered plumes. Colorful butterflies wove among the petals. The sound of a piano echoed down the hall as Eleanor practiced scales, then she began to play songs she’d composed herself.

The smell of freesia filled the air as her mother carried a vase filled with them into the room and set it on a nearby table.

“Those are beautiful blooms, Mama,” Diana said. Her mother’s face shone as she smiled at Diana.

“Everything the earth makes is beautiful,” she replied. “Every ephemeral cloud, every bit of everlasting stone.”

Eleanor began to play a new song. The melody was one Diana had never heard before, yet it was familiar.

Something was not right. She felt... strange. Not quite herself. Diana set her book down and went to the tall gilt mirror that hung in the sitting room. The door next to it opened. Eleanor slid past her as she entered the room and joined their parents. The feel of her as she passed was more ghostly than real.

Diana’s gaze moved from her family back to her reflection. The others were seated at the table, speaking softly and smiling as they had so often done... years ago.

That was it, that was what made no sense. The woman looking back at her in the mirror was too old—she should be thirteen or fourteen, not three and twenty. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the table was now empty. The sunlight, once so bright in the room, had begun to fade. Her family had vanished...

She spun back to the mirror and gasped. Her family was still reflected in the perfect morning light, but only in the flashing silver of the mirror’s world. With a trembling hand, she reached up and touched the glass. Her foolish heart broke the moment she realized she wouldn’t be able to pass through the mirror and into the life she wanted to reclaim. But the mirror only vibrated beneath her touch, as though the rising despair in her heart and soul seemed to be strong enough to fracture this moment that existed only between time and space.

“Mama!” she called out. “Eleanor, please !” She pressed her palm flat on the mirror, trying to push herself into their world. Tears rolled down her cheeks as they ignored her and went on with their happy day. She felt like she was dying. Why couldn’t they hear her? Why wouldn’t they let her in?

She beat upon the glass, trying to break it, trying to find some way into the world of the looking glass. The darkness around her grew as the candles burned low, until only twilight reigned around her. But she did not look away from the world in the mirror. In the reflection, her parents and sister stood up to leave. They were leaving her...

“Let me come too,” she begged brokenly. “Please! Let me come with you. Do not leave me!” Her mother and father passed out of sight into a sunny corridor far out of her reach, her sister not far behind.

She screamed her sister’s name. Eleanor halted, one hand on the doorframe. She turned to look at Diana over her shoulder, and their gazes locked.

“You must wake up, Diana,” Eleanor said. “You must wake up now !”

Diana heaved a sob as she jolted upright in the darkness. It was night, and she was no longer in the sitting room. Her family and the cursed mirror were gone. Gasping for breath, it took her a moment to realize she was not at home at Foxglove. She was in a strange bed. She shifted and flinched at the soreness between her thighs. A stranger lay beside her, one arm draped over her waist. The shadows made soft grooves in the lithe, muscled arm that loosely held her.

Tyburn . . . the highwayman.

Tyburn slept on. She covered her mouth, hoping he wouldn’t feel her shake, nor hear her weeping. The dream still fluttered at the edge of her memory, like the wings of a butterfly kissing her skin. It had felt so real , as if she’d actually been with her family again.

But her mother and father were dead, and Eleanor was likely dead too. That was the truth she constantly tried to deny, that something had happened to her sister. Why had Diana felt their presence so strongly in that dream? Why had it felt as if she could have joined them, if she’d only found a way to pass through the looking glass?

She wiped her eyes and carefully slid out of Tyburn’s arms so she could sit on the side of the bed. The thief lay facing her, his mask still in place. A pale hint of the coming dawn glowed faintly at the edge of the window where the curtains had been pulled back.

Her hand reached out, almost touching Tyburn’s face, but she halted just short of his cheek. She could remove the mask and see his face, but something made her stop. Perhaps he was right. It was best not to see him. Best not to know him. Keeping this night a mystery would be better for both of them.

Determined to banish both the remnants of her dreams and her desire to curl back into Tyburn’s arms and sleep, she squared her shoulders and reminded herself to breathe. She slid out of bed and retrieved her clothing, then quietly dressed. She found the door to the outer chamber unlocked.

Tyburn still didn’t rouse at her exit, and the rest of the hunting lodge was quiet. That meant the other two brigands, Oxford and Cambridge, would be sleeping in the other rooms. She explored the main chamber while she clasped her mother’s necklace back around her neck. Spotting a row of chests against one wall, she knelt and tested the lid of one. It was unlocked, so she lifted it and stifled a sound of surprise. Jewels and coins winked at her from inside. Hundreds of banknotes were nestled among its treasures. This must be where the thieves kept their prizes. What she wouldn’t give for this kind of money!

Diana stilled as a plan hatched in her mind. She did not have to wait for Tyburn to take her home. She could take one of their horses and some of this treasure and go home on her own. If she left now, she might ride fast enough to lose them even if they pursued her. She recalled passing a stream on the way here; she could ride in the water for a time to disguise her trail before she continued home.

That way, her newfound money could not be taken back by Tyburn and the others. She frantically searched the lodge’s small kitchen, where she found two burlap sacks with twine ties. She hastily moved as many of the banknotes as she could into the two bags. She left the coins behind since she knew they would jingle too loudly, and silence was crucial.

Diana paused by the doorway to the chamber where Tyburn still slept. An invisible tie seemed to hold her still. If she left now, that tie would break. What she did now didn’t come from a place of greed, but survival. However, she doubted Tyburn and his friends would see it as anything but betrayal. It would be best to cut all ties with this man.

And yet she could not. Part of her wanted him to know what she had done wasn’t about gaining wealth, and the only way she could imagine that was if she gave up that which was most precious to her now.

She reached for her mother’s pearl necklace, and with a sudden pang she knew she must leave it behind. Her wicked highwayman needed a way to remember that he was not alone, that for however brief a time, they had shared each other and eased that ache within their hearts. She only hoped he would understand, even if he could not forgive.

She undid the clasp of her necklace and crept back into the chamber. Tyburn still slept soundly. She carefully lifted his hand to twine the necklace around his wrist, then redid the clasp to turn the necklace into a bracelet. The pearl gleamed like a drop of frozen dew upon the highwayman’s wrist. She hoped he would keep it, that he would want some small vestige of her to carry with him.

Lord, she had become foolishly romantic. All because she’d given herself to a man whose true name she didn’t even know. Her gaze drifted from the pearl that rested on Tyburn’s skin to the man’s face. She had to leave. It was time to leave all that could have been behind.

She retrieved the bags and carried them, one in each hand, out the front door of the lodge.

The stable was only a short distance away. She found six horses inside, ranging from black to snowy white, each with different markings upon their noses and hooves. Six horses and three men, at least one of whom could change his accent at will. Now she understood how Tyburn and his friends had not yet been caught. She couldn’t help but admire the man’s cleverness. They were quite good at this.

And I will have stolen from them, she thought with guilt. Tyburn had treated her well, hadn’t taken anything from her that she hadn’t freely given him, and she was betraying his trust. Still, she had to take the money. Everyone who lived on her estate was counting on her to protect them, to see them through these tough days and into a time of financial security. Tyburn could steal more, and likely would soon to cover this little loss. Even though her chest ached at the thought of leaving, she had to focus on her own future and the future of her servants.

She chose one of the brown mares and quickly saddled her, then strapped her burlap bags on each side and guided her out of the stable. The mare was a patient creature, allowing Diana to use a footstool to mount up and sit astride. The thieves would be short one horse, but she could not think of a way to return the mare.

Mist cloaked the dawn landscape as she rode far from the hunting lodge—and the highwayman who’d changed her life forever. She pushed away thoughts of last night, of how she’d felt when he’d first touched her and how she’d felt when she’d woken in his arms, weeping for a life that was long gone.

When her sister had left, she’d had to surrender the moonspun dreams of her girlhood. She’d become the master and mistress of her home after her father died. She had no time for love, no time for the foolish dreams that her heart once called out for. She was practical now, because she had to be.

As she got farther from the lodge, she felt confident she knew where she was, even though she’d been blindfolded. She knew this part of the country well since it wasn’t far from Foxglove. She had a good sense of direction, and after a short while, she found her way back to the road where she had been taken. There was no sign of the family she’d shared the ride with nor the coach, but that was to be expected. The highwaymen would have let them continue on their way after enough time had safely passed.

It took her two more hours to finally reach the gates of Foxglove. She was halfway down the path to the manor house when Nelson, her old groom, came to meet her. He rode one of the estate’s draft horses, a lovely beast with a pale-gray coat and large feathered hooves. A steady and reliable creature for the older groom, who wasn’t as spry as he’d once been.

“Miss Fox!” Nelson swept his cap off his head as he greeted her.

“Good morning, Nelson,” she replied, hoping to hide any signs of weariness. They rode the rest of the way toward the house together. When they reached the steps to the front door, he dismounted and took the reins of her horse.

“You were supposed to be here yesterday,” the old groom chided. “We’ve been worried sick, we have. Especially Mr. Peele and Mrs. Ripley. I was just about to ride to the next coaching station to find you.”

“I’m sorry to have worried all of you. But I’m all right, Nelson,” she told the groom.

“Was it carriage trouble, miss?”

“You might say that. It’s a long story.”

“Well, I’m right glad to have you back.” Only now did he realize she was sitting astride a horse that didn’t belong to Foxglove. “Who is this beauty, eh?” He gave the mare an affectionate pat.

“She will be one of our new horses. I collected her on my adventure back home.”

Nelson’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like you don’t want me asking questions about it, miss?”

She chuckled. “Fear not, Nelson, the owner is not in a position to demand where she’s gone off to—or in a position to find me.”

Nelson gave a gruff laugh. “You are your father’s daughter.”

“I take that as a compliment.” She smiled. Her father had been a man who could do anything he’d put his mind to, up until he died. He’d once been quite talented at rubbing two shillings together to make several pounds. If their estate had poor crops one year or the tenant farms had trouble with livestock, her father had always had enough to keep his family and his tenants afloat. Diana was happy to think that she might have inherited her father’s skills, even in a small way.

“What’s in these?” Nelson asked, pointing to the two burlap sacks slung over the back of the saddle.

“Our salvation,” she replied.

He raised an eyebrow but asked no other questions as he removed the bags.

“Thank you.” She took the bags from him and he left, walking the mare and his draft horse back to the stables.

She shouldered the bags full of banknotes and climbed the steps just as the door opened and a tall, thin, but strong middle-aged man with dark gray-streaked hair came out to meet her.

“There you are!” Mr. Peele exclaimed. “Where is your valise, Miss Fox? Heavens, what happened to you?” The butler grasped her shoulders the way a concerned father would. “You look as though you’ve been out all night in the rain.”

“In a way, I was. ’Tis a long story, and I’m so very tired. Would you please find Mrs. Ripley and meet me in my study? I would speak with you both about something rather urgent.” She nodded at the bags. “I shall take these with me.” She went directly to her study.

She paused as she entered the room. The study had once been her father’s, and it still carried a hint of cigar smoke, something that always struck her heart when she’d been away from the room for a few days.

Since her father’s passing, she had tidied up his haphazard papers and rectified his disorganized system of records until she had a system that worked for her. Diana had perhaps a little more of her mother in her when it came to organizing. She went to the oak desk in front of the windows that faced the back gardens of the house. Towering bookshelves lined the left wall, and to the right was a fireplace where portraits of her parents hung on either side. After her father had died, she’d moved the paintings from the great hall to this room. She felt comforted to see them whenever she worked on matters for the estate.

The artist had captured them so perfectly. A young Florence and a young Stephen Fox, captured in the bloom of their youth with love and vigor warming their cheeks and illuminating their smiles. A lump formed in her throat as the vivid images from her dream flashed through her mind like quicksilver. Her hands clenched as she remembered trying to shatter the mirror to get to her family. Why had last night been so different from all her other dreams? Something about letting her walls down with Tyburn had resurrected an old heartache. Diana rubbed a fist against her chest and blinked away the burn of fresh tears.

Stop crying, you ninny. You have too much to do.

The weight of the two burlap sacks had grown a little heavy due to her own weariness, so she set them on the desk. She turned to face the door just as Mr. Peele and Mrs. Ripley entered. The butler closed the door behind them.

Mrs. Ripley breathed a sigh of relief. “Miss Diana, thank goodness you’re all right.”

Even though Eleanor had been gone for years, Mrs. Ripley still called her Miss Diana rather than Miss Fox, since she was now the oldest daughter and the lady of the house. But this didn’t bother Diana at all. In fact, she took comfort in what remained the same after losing so much over the last few years.

Mrs. Ripley took in Diana’s appearance. Her dark hair was a terrible rat’s nest, and her velvet dress was stiff from dried rainwater. “You look quite a fright. The stagecoach didn’t stop here yesterday, and we’ve all been worried sick. Nelson waited four hours for you in the rain. Mr. Peele had to command him to return to the house for tea and a hot bath so he wouldn’t catch his death.”

Diana felt a stab of guilt knowing the old groom had waited so long for her while she’d been experiencing her first taste of passion in a highwayman’s arms. She’d been warm and safe—relatively speaking—and her poor groom had been waiting in the rain for her to come home.

She sighed and gestured for them to sit in the two armchairs that faced her desk. “I’m afraid my coach was waylaid by three highwaymen.”

“Highwaymen?” Mrs. Ripley’s face paled. “Miss Diana, what happened to you? They didn’t harm you, did they?”

“No, no, they did not,” she rushed to assure them when she saw Mr. Peele’s eyes harden. “As hard as it might be to believe, they were, in fact, gentlemen.”

“But you’ve been gone so long,” said Mr. Peele. “Did the coach break a wheel after the highwaymen left?”

“No, that is not the reason I was delayed. I was forced to accompany the thieves to their hideout because I refused to give them my mother’s necklace. One of them was quite insistent on having it. So they left the other passengers and the driver on the road with the coach and took me with them.”

“The brigands kidnapped you?” Peele almost snarled. “Why, I’ll kill?—”

“They didn’t hurt me,” she reminded her protective butler. “Please, just let me tell you the rest of the story.”

The butler and housekeeper exchanged worried glances, so Diana continued.

“When the storm came, the men gave me shelter.” She stopped herself from reaching for the necklace that was no longer there but left behind, tenderly tied around her mysterious lover’s wrist.

“And then?” Mr. Peele prompted.

Diana found the will to smile despite her exhaustion. “I woke early, before they did, and found these while I searched their lodgings.” She opened one of the sacks and poured its contents onto the desk. Banknotes and fine jewels tumbled onto the oak surface.

Mrs. Ripley covered her mouth. “Good God.”

“Miss Fox, you stole this from the highwaymen?” Mr. Peele’s quiet voice held a deep tone of concern.

“I know that it is not the action a lady would take, but we need the money. I believe this will cover the debts we have to the bankers in London. Once I’ve had a chance to rest, I should like to collect all the paperwork on our debts and arrange for payment as soon as possible. I can take it back to London myself and have the solicitor handle the rest.”

“This is good news, but there is still the matter of our future expenses,” the housekeeper said. “We would need something like this coming in at least four or five times a year if we want to improve the house and finally be able to provide the staff with decent wages.”

“I agree. The tenant farmers have been keeping us afloat, but I want them to be able to keep more of what they earn and for the house and its staff to be less reliant on tenancy income.” Diana leaned back against the desk and crossed her arms. She was stiff from the tension of the previous night, her head ached a little, and her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in more than a day. But she could eat after she’d told them her idea.

“This ordeal has given me an idea, a rather mad one, but perhaps it will save us. However, I don’t want to put anyone at risk for my actions without their explicit agreement to participate. Until we decide what to do next, you are the only ones who can be aware of my plan. If we are discovered, it would mean prosecution and possibly death as my accomplices.”

“ Accomplices? ” Mr. Peele uttered. “Just what is it that you are proposing?”

Diana lowered her voice even more. She trusted everyone who worked in this house, but she would not put them in harm’s way if she could help it. She did not want to risk anyone who happened to be walking past the door overhearing even part of the conversation.

“What if I were to become a highwayman myself? I will keep this estate running and food in our bellies until we find another means of support.”

Her butler and housekeeper stared at her as if she had gone mad. “But they hang thieves. Men and women,” Peele muttered. “You cannot do this. You are a gentle-born lady. Your father?—”

“My father would want me to do something about our situation, even if it meant taking a great risk.”

“Risk?” Mrs. Ripley said sharply. “This is not a simple risk you suggest taking. It is your life in your hands, and ours if we agree to help. This isn’t the way, Diana.” Mrs. Ripley’s voice turned soft, full of motherly concern.

It struck Diana then how much these two had come to mean to her in recent years. They’d become surrogate parents, ones who cared about her and handed out good advice when she needed it. Her heart swelled with love for them both, but her idea held merit, and if she did it well, they would be well off for a few years until she could sort out a better solution, like investing the extra money in funds in London with someone in the city who knew his way around investments.

“I know it is not proper, but it is the only solution we have at the moment.”

“Assuming we agree, how would you go about it? Dress up as a man? Act like one? What about help? Many coaches have not only a driver but other men who might try to fight you. What happens then? Will you be armed?” Mrs. Ripley asked.

Diana had given this situation quite a bit of thought during her flight from the hunting lodge, and she was convinced she knew what to do.

“Reports of highwaymen are easy to read. The Morning Post carries accounts almost daily of various robberies committed. I will read up on those and I will pretend to be like the men who stopped me yesterday. There were three of them. They used nicknames and had at least six horses that I believe they use interchangeably. One also spoke with different accents at different times. I can do that, and if I take two men with me, it should be easy enough to manage. The travelers we stop will think that we are those other three men. We will have to carry pistols, and I am prepared to use them if necessary.” She was a decent shot, had to be, since they’d often hunted for pheasants, rabbit, and even some deer on her lands when winters were leaner.

“I hope to save up enough to invest the extra money so that we can live upon the dividends,” she added after a moment.

They both stared at her before Peele spoke. “What men could you trust to do this with you? Surely no strangers? The authorities always offer steep rewards for highwaymen, and I’m sure they would give you away in an instant.”

“I thought I might ask Matthew and Luke.”

“Our footmen?” Peele gaped at her. “But they are barely over twenty. Smart lads, yes, but they still run about like young pups when overexcited. You couldn’t possibly keep them under control during such a dangerous activity. You’d risk their lives?”

“They are both strong, good riders, and I believe the danger of the situation might help them focus. More importantly, they are also loyal to this house. I will offer them a fair percentage of what we take in order to make up for the added risk. It will be entirely their choice. I will not force them, and I will remind them of the inherent risks that come with such a decision.” She sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingers. “We can discuss this in more detail later. I desperately need a bath and some breakfast. We also need to hide this new wealth in a safe place.”

Peele eyed the bags thoughtfully. “I have a place in mind.”

“Good,” Diana replied. “Take the bags. I need to find the list of accounts we owe for the solicitor.”

She left her butler in the study with the burlap sacks and went up the grand staircase that led to the rooms in the east wing. The bedchambers were all empty now except for hers. She’d tried to convince the staff to move out of the servants’ wing, but they had refused, insisting it wasn’t proper. Mrs. Ripley had offered to move Diana’s things into her parents’ bedchamber, but Diana had declined. The house still held the lingering presence of gentle spirits within those lifeless rooms, and Diana couldn’t bear to chase those spirits away by changing anything.

She entered her bedchamber and closed the door, leaning back against it. The velvet day gown she wore was stiff and heavy on her skin, making her feel even more weary than she had moments ago. Perhaps it was because she was home, and she was alone, and no one now would see her crumble and cry. She covered her mouth with one hand as tears crept into the corners of her eyes and she stifled a sob. She was so tired, so very weary of everything she’d had to face these last few years. What she wouldn’t give to have just one moment that wasn’t driven by fear, anxiety, hunger, or despair?

Wiping away her tears, she faced the room and squared her shoulders. Morning light crept through the gossamer curtains of the tall bay windows, muting the light a little. The pale-blue walls were painted with branches bedecked with flowers, birds, and bees. As a little girl, she’d begged her mother to live in the garden behind the house. Her mother had politely told her that young ladies did not dwell in gardens like fairies, but she would see to it that Diana’s room felt like a garden. She’d gotten out her paints and her brushes, and for a full two weeks she’d painted the floral elements along the base of the walls. Her mother had added woodland creatures like foxes, hedgehogs, badgers, and rabbits. The beasts were so wonderfully lifelike, even after all these years. Diana never wanted to sleep in another bedchamber, not when her mother’s touch of magic was everywhere.

Diana unbuttoned the front of her gown. In the quiet bedchamber, she finally let herself feel what her body had gone through in the last day and night. She could still taste Tyburn’s kiss, like a ghostly presence whenever she dared to let herself think about him. She was still sore between her thighs, and she blushed with the memory of how she’d come to be so. She had been loved, well loved , last night, and she had loved him back the only way she’d known how. She had given herself to a stranger with no regrets.

Diana curled her fingers around her bare throat, missing her necklace and missing Tyburn even more. She placed her other palm against her abdomen, wondering, hoping that perhaps she would have something beyond her memories to carry forward in her life. Her bearing a child would be impossible to hide from the families who lived on the lands around them, but she would gladly suffer the scandal to have a piece of that wonderful night that she could cradle in her arms. Her best memory would have a name. It would have adorable chubby cheeks and a laugh that would banish the storms and bring out the very sunlight.

Only time would tell if she had such a life within her womb. Tyburn would never know her name or if she had a child. She couldn’t meet him again in two months, not after what she’d just done.

Diana dropped her hand from her throat. It was time to put aside her emotions. It was time to protect her future. Tyburn and his friends had shown her the way. She would not let her servants, her family , down.