light."
"I should go with you. We've a better chance between the two of us," said Lord Garway.
"It's not necessary, I assure you. Your place is with Lady Garway." Desmond spoke confidently.
"Rebecca and I followed a well-worn path yesterday. She won't have strayed far from it. I will find her and bring her home. Trust me."
"I'll ring for Tobias. He can get Harold to ready a horse for you. You can take mine." Lord Garway approached the bell pull.
"I haven't time for that, my lord. I can saddle a horse. Please excuse me." Desmond gave them each a final glance and quickly took his leave.
Once in the hallway, Desmond was immediately greeted by Abbott. "You will need these, sir." He handed Desmond his coat and hat. "Follow me. I can show you the shortest path to the stables."
"You read my mind, Abbott." Desmond accompanied the footman through an unfamiliar doorway and down a confined stairwell. It was the first time that Desmond had been allowed entry into the servants' passages.
The bottom of the stairwell opened up to a different world. The corridors were narrow and gray. The eyes of the maids and menservants followed him as he passed.
He smelled the kitchen first before he observed its ruckus. Finally, Abbott opened the doorway leading to the back courtyard.
"You can find it easily from here, sir. See there," Abbott motioned with his right hand.
"Thank you, Abbott."
"Godspeed, sir."
"I will find her, Abbott. Keep an eye out for us."
"You know I will, Mr. Baines."
Desmond walked quickly to the stables. The air was fresh and cold. He tried to flesh out the reasons for Rebecca's extreme reaction. What could she be thinking? His failure to keep her fully informed could not explain this.
Desmond could have charmed his way out of that slight he was sure of it.
His worst fear was that she was punishing herself yet again for an absence of discretion that was the damned Sir Isaac affair. How ironic that would be. It was the very reason he delayed telling her of his plans, to spare her further torment on that score. He saddled a spirited horse and within minutes, he was able to set out.
The sun was low in the sky by the time he reached the landing near the gamekeeper's cottage. He was relieved to see Guinevere there, peacefully feeding on nearby grasses.
He dismounted, tethered his horse. He made his way through the brush with solid strides. Desmond's heart rose to his throat as he neared the cottage.
If she was not here, what were his other options? He had none. He squeezed the latch and pushed on the door forcefully.
The small room was cold and dark. She was lying on the mattress – was she sleeping? He walked quickly to the small bed and sat down on the edge beside her.
She was asleep and breathing quietly. Her eyes were closed, her lashes glistened. Her tear-stained cheeks were flushed. Her hair, having worked itself loose, framed her face in soft brown wisps and strands.
Desmond was overcome with an infinite tenderness. What sadness was she hiding? Did he do this to her? He removed his glove and caressed her hair, her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered open. She looked up at him.
"Desmond…how long have I been sleeping?" She started to shiver.
"I don't know, my darling. I've only just arrived." He stood up and took off his coat. "You are ice-cold." He covered her gently with the woolen garment. He sat down again.
She looked into his steel blue eyes. She loved him so. She could feel her eyes well up and a single tear found its way to the edge of her cheek. She wiped it away hastily. "I must get back," she whispered. She sat up slowly. She was cold, so very cold.
"Rebecca, I'm so sorry. I meant to tell you..."
"Please, Desmond, I must get back. My mother and father must be beside themselves with worry." Rebecca pushed his coat to one side.
She maneuvered herself around Desmond and stood up. "Thank you for coming to fetch me. I suppose I'm quite lucky that you found me before I froze to death." She smiled
"I should go with you. We've a better chance between the two of us," said Lord Garway.
"It's not necessary, I assure you. Your place is with Lady Garway." Desmond spoke confidently.
"Rebecca and I followed a well-worn path yesterday. She won't have strayed far from it. I will find her and bring her home. Trust me."
"I'll ring for Tobias. He can get Harold to ready a horse for you. You can take mine." Lord Garway approached the bell pull.
"I haven't time for that, my lord. I can saddle a horse. Please excuse me." Desmond gave them each a final glance and quickly took his leave.
Once in the hallway, Desmond was immediately greeted by Abbott. "You will need these, sir." He handed Desmond his coat and hat. "Follow me. I can show you the shortest path to the stables."
"You read my mind, Abbott." Desmond accompanied the footman through an unfamiliar doorway and down a confined stairwell. It was the first time that Desmond had been allowed entry into the servants' passages.
The bottom of the stairwell opened up to a different world. The corridors were narrow and gray. The eyes of the maids and menservants followed him as he passed.
He smelled the kitchen first before he observed its ruckus. Finally, Abbott opened the doorway leading to the back courtyard.
"You can find it easily from here, sir. See there," Abbott motioned with his right hand.
"Thank you, Abbott."
"Godspeed, sir."
"I will find her, Abbott. Keep an eye out for us."
"You know I will, Mr. Baines."
Desmond walked quickly to the stables. The air was fresh and cold. He tried to flesh out the reasons for Rebecca's extreme reaction. What could she be thinking? His failure to keep her fully informed could not explain this.
Desmond could have charmed his way out of that slight he was sure of it.
His worst fear was that she was punishing herself yet again for an absence of discretion that was the damned Sir Isaac affair. How ironic that would be. It was the very reason he delayed telling her of his plans, to spare her further torment on that score. He saddled a spirited horse and within minutes, he was able to set out.
The sun was low in the sky by the time he reached the landing near the gamekeeper's cottage. He was relieved to see Guinevere there, peacefully feeding on nearby grasses.
He dismounted, tethered his horse. He made his way through the brush with solid strides. Desmond's heart rose to his throat as he neared the cottage.
If she was not here, what were his other options? He had none. He squeezed the latch and pushed on the door forcefully.
The small room was cold and dark. She was lying on the mattress – was she sleeping? He walked quickly to the small bed and sat down on the edge beside her.
She was asleep and breathing quietly. Her eyes were closed, her lashes glistened. Her tear-stained cheeks were flushed. Her hair, having worked itself loose, framed her face in soft brown wisps and strands.
Desmond was overcome with an infinite tenderness. What sadness was she hiding? Did he do this to her? He removed his glove and caressed her hair, her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered open. She looked up at him.
"Desmond…how long have I been sleeping?" She started to shiver.
"I don't know, my darling. I've only just arrived." He stood up and took off his coat. "You are ice-cold." He covered her gently with the woolen garment. He sat down again.
She looked into his steel blue eyes. She loved him so. She could feel her eyes well up and a single tear found its way to the edge of her cheek. She wiped it away hastily. "I must get back," she whispered. She sat up slowly. She was cold, so very cold.
"Rebecca, I'm so sorry. I meant to tell you..."
"Please, Desmond, I must get back. My mother and father must be beside themselves with worry." Rebecca pushed his coat to one side.
She maneuvered herself around Desmond and stood up. "Thank you for coming to fetch me. I suppose I'm quite lucky that you found me before I froze to death." She smiled
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