Chapter 19

Two days later, Arabella came running into the morning room, having relieved Sullivan of the letter which had just arrived. "He has replied!" she exclaimed as Grace looked up from her embroidery.

"Ah, excellent. I hope it contains positive news."

"As do I." Breaking the seal, she started to read the letter out loud.

My dear Arabella,

Your letter gave me much joy and I thank you for it. Of course I forgive you, you foolish girl, you are my brother's child and are as precious to me as he was. We all make errors of judgement, I feel like a proud father to know that you had seen through that scoundrel before he could hurt you for a second time. Believe me when I say that I have always only wanted what is best for you.

I would happily have sent Michael back to you and I am sure that he would have returned without argument, but I am afraid he is not with me at present. He received some news the day after we arrived back home to say that his father had been taken quite ill and his help was needed. I have not heard anything for the last few days, he sent me a note to say that he had arrived safely and that his father was gravely ill. I have told him to do what needs to be done, he is a good worker and will return when he can. I have always thought that to be fair with servants one always is paid back tenfold and Michael is one of the best.

I hope you are able to appoint a steward as efficient as Michael. My initial reaction was to offer my services, but I know you would not like that, so I am going to step back and let you choose who you think is appropriate to guide you.

Always know that I am very proud of you.

Kind regards,

Uncle Julian.

Arabella sat down next to Grace, all her excitement gone. "Michael will be distraught; he worships his father."

"The poor boy."

"Hardly a boy. He is older than I."

"Anyone younger than I is still a child. What are you going to do now?"

"What can I do? I can hardly demand he return here when his father could be dying."

"No, I would not suggest that course of action would endear you to him, but you could always go to him and support him when he needs it the most." Grace's tone was gentle, and she smiled a little when Arabella recoiled from her words. "It would be reasonable to ask your uncle for his direction, especially if you wanted to send a parcel for the family. You would not need to admit that you intend to deliver the parcel in person."

"That would mean travelling." Arabella looked panicked and was grasping the arm of the chair as if she needed something to keep herself grounded.

"It would, but would that not show him what he meant to you?"

"Yes, but travelling," Arabella groaned. "I have not been in a carriage for three years."

"I know."

"I almost wish we could set off today so I do not need to think about it or worry about what could happen. Waiting for another reply from Uncle will enable me to come up with at least a hundred reasons why I should not travel. One being that my carriage is probably half-rotten." Her heart was pounding. The thought of leaving the safety of her estate had her hands sweaty and her throat struggling to swallow. Never one to take the salts, she believed for the first time in her life she might actually need them.

Grace took her hand. "I have my carriage here. It is not as luxurious as yours was, but it is in perfect condition, and I trust Amos with my life."

"But what if…"

"Michael needs you."

"Oh, why is everything so complicated?"

"Is he worth the trouble?"

"Of course he is! I have not been able to stop myself from thinking about him for a full five minutes since he left. No more. The man is haunting me, and I want to go to him, but I am terrified. This is my sanctuary."

"I know."

"The people in the curricle died," she said quietly. "The stage was so big in comparison to it, and it had more horses."

"Curricles are flimsy vehicles; my carriage is of the older design, strong and sturdy, and Amos has been my coachman for twenty years."

"Does that not mean he is too old to have such responsibility?"

Grace laughed. "Come, write back to your uncle, and I will have Amos check the carriage even more thoroughly than he does normally. I promise not to mention that you consider him in his dotage and not fit to be employed."

"It was a reasonable question to ask. He must be at least fifty."

"As I am five and forty, does that mean I should be put out to pasture?"

"Most certainly."

Grace smacked Arabella's hand before walking to the door. "One day, you will be my age, and I will remind you of this conversation when some young upstart insults you."

Sticking her tongue out at her friend in an utterly childish fashion, Arabella once more moved to a desk, and taking out a piece of paper, she dipped her quill in the ink and started to write.

***

It was three days before Arabella received a reply from her uncle. She was almost at the end of her tether, and even appointing workmen to carry out some repairs on the buildings within the parkland to return them to habitable standards could not deflect her from the blind panic she felt every time she thought of leaving the estate.

It had been hard enough getting onto a horse after she had healed enough to be able to mount one, but she had to move around somehow, and she had not been able to consider a carriage as an option. Now she could not ride to Michael's family home, Grace would certainly refuse to travel so far on horseback, and Arabella could not go without Grace. They would have to spend one night at an inn, which Arabella could not face alone. The thought of staying in an inn surrounded by strangers was a close second, after considering travelling by carriage, when it came to her panic levels.

After reading her uncle's letter, she looked at Grace. "Do we set out today?"

"Yes, I think it would be best. We are ready to go once the horses are harnessed. We might as well make it to the first inn today and set off early tomorrow."

Arabella nodded, unable to speak. They had been ready from the day it had been agreed that they should go. Arabella had spent an age choosing useful items to go into a box for Michael's family, hoping it would keep her mind occupied. It had not.

"Amos will not let us down," Grace said gently. "He will ensure that you are safe."

"My sensible side understands that, but the nightmares and images remind me that he cannot guarantee that other coachmen might not be as careful as him."

Grace embraced her. "You are being very brave, I know this is costing you a great deal, but you needed to venture out at some point."

"I know, and there is not a better reason to do so," Arabella said, setting her shoulders. "Come, let us get on our way."

***

Entering an inn was always going to be a trial, but Arabella wore a veil over her bonnet, which hid most of her face. It looked stylish rather than that she was hiding herself. She was observed with appreciation; even her stilted movements caused by her damaged arm and leg could not detract from her elegance.

"Before you start to worry, they are looking on with admiration," Grace whispered as they approached the innkeeper. "One private room, please, and your finest chamber for the night."

"Of course, my lady." The innkeeper almost bowed, knowing that he had two fine travellers in front of him. Grace might be considered older, but she was still striking, with her tall, slender figure and piercing blue eyes, and she had a presence about her. "This way, ladies."

In the private parlour, Grace ordered food and drink before taking off her bonnet and gloves and placing them on a side table. "Look how much you have overcome already," she said gently. "Did you ever think you would get this far?"

"No," Arabella responded, sinking into a seat.

"How many times did you nearly have us turn back?"

"Fifty? Possibly sixty?" Arabella smiled at the memory of opening her mouth to beg for them to turn around, only to clamp it shut on remembering that Michael needed her. "And I am not exaggerating."

"I know. I heard the sharp intake of breath each time you were going to utter the words and then saw the slump of your shoulders when you managed to contain your fear."

"Not very well if you counted alongside me."

"I know you well, and it is perfectly understandable to react that way the first time you venture away from home."

They were interrupted by the innkeeper, who brought in a warming stew, bread, meats and cheeses, plus an apple and blackcurrant pie. "The missus cooks everything fresh each day, and I promise you, there isn't a finer cook within ten miles of here."

"If it tastes half as good as it smells, then you are without doubt speaking the truth," Grace said with a smile.

"I'd bet my livelihood on it, I'm that sure."

"In that case, we are going to enjoy this, aren't we, Arabella?"

"Yes," Arabella said, not quite looking at the innkeeper, afraid her veil would not completely shield her. The innkeeper shot her a curious look but said no more, leaving the ladies to their food. Only when he had closed the door did Arabella remove her bonnet.

"You know, if you acted as if the scars were nothing, most people would respond in kind," Grace said gently.

"It is not most people I am worried about." Arabella grimaced.

"You are still beautiful."

"Please, not this conversation on top of the journey," Arabella pleaded. "Let me enjoy this food in relative peace."

"Fine, but only because it really does smell delicious. We can continue our conversation when we are in the carriage tomorrow."

"I think I might suffer hysterics if we do."

"Tsk, nonsense."

"I did not think you had such a cruel streak in you. I am seeing you in a different light."

"It is only for your own good."

"Hmm, I will be asking the girls. I bet you have said that to all of them when you want to bully them into submission."

"Of course I have. But that does not mean to say that what I have done is not for their own good."

"Hmmm." All other thoughts were forgotten as the slow-cooked beef, potatoes and vegetables filled their stomachs.