Hide in Time (33 page)

“A gift enhanced by sharing,
Adam. It’s not “Foxhills” that I love.” She
stopped abruptly. He had not offered marriage, she must not presume
too much. “I,” she had to recover her modesty, “I
would be happy to live in a cottage so long as I had those I love
nearby.” She added enthusiastically, “I am told my novel
should sell for one hundred pounds or more, sufficient to run a small
household for some time, so long as I incorporate…”

“Romance,” said Adam. “You
should not neglect to find romance, Alexandra. I cannot bear to see
the woman I love fending off poverty by her own efforts. It contrasts
with all you deserve and all that many suitors will offer you.”

“Many suitors? You flatter me and
do me a disservice in the same breath. Why would I wish to marry
someone other than the man I love?”

Adam moved behind and encircled her
with his arms. She leaned back against his chest and he nuzzled into
her neck before saying, “Close your eyes, Alexandra. Imagine a
cottage, not too far from here, with nothing but a daily maid to help
with endless chores and then tell me that those are images of love
you would cherish.”

Alexandra, her eyes closed, fancied she
smelled the “Foxhills”’ rose garden wafting on the
evening breeze and exclaimed, “Oh it is a beautiful sight! The
sun is shining. I am sitting in the garden, writing, and we have
employed Billy as a gardener to care for the roses…”

Adam laughed. “Your publisher is
right; you can include romance even in the most unlikely settings.”

Alexandra turned and snuggled up to
him; oh how she loved the warm smell of him. She reached up and, with
her finger, traced the scar that followed his smile line. That smile
was all she would ever need. She had no memories of love, painful or
otherwise, as he did; her memories would always be of him. She must
seize this moment. “You are the one man who…” How
could she begin to express how she felt? A writer, stuck for words.

Adam helped her out. “Fluttered
your butterflies?” He cocked his head to one side and grinned.

She felt her cheeks flush and lowered
her eyes as if to ward off the increasing blush. So, Raffles had told
him about her butterflies whenever Adam was around – how could
he? Blushing still, she began to walk back towards “Foxhills”.
Adam did not follow. Was he letting her go? Her fragile hopes
shattered like a dropped crystal glass. She turned. He was taking a
last look across the estate. “Adam, whatever happens, I could
not bear to lose you.”

“Nor I to lose you. But neither
can I bear to think of your pretty hands spoiled by constant
household chores.”

“What would be the point of
caring about my hands if you are not there?”

Adam reflected for a moment. He pulled
her towards him and kissed her, stirring the depths of her soul. “I
will always love you, Alexandra.” Placing his hand under her
breast, he said, “Hold our future in your heart until I
return.”

Her persuasions had prevailed. Hope was
restored, pain banished, all uncertainties swept away – waiting
was something she could do well. This was the man for her and she
was, and always would be, his. She nuzzled her face into his white
shirt and revelled in the thought that she had finally fallen in
love.

Adam bent his head forward and pulled
the chain from around his neck, took off the ring and slipped it on
her finger. It fitted. For a fleeting moment he remembered the coffee
shop and finding his original diamond ring, designed for his first,
lost love, replacing the silver copy he had been wearing. He brushed
the thought, with all its strange implications, away. Covering her
hand in his, he said, “Wear this until I am able to claim you
as mine. If any other suitor comes into view and does not know you
are loved by me, this will warn him. If he persists, I shall know,
and I shall relieve him of his confidence.” He paused. “Maybe
more,” he said as he released her hand and playacted the
highwayman.

Alexandra, laughing, found it difficult
to drag her eyes away from him but she looked closer at what he had
given her and gasped. It was a diamond ring identical in design to
the silver one he had stolen from her as the highwayman. Had he been
to London to have it copied? The irony and error of her thought was
beyond her.

“It’s growing dark and
tomorrow I have to face the storm. I need to know you’ll wear
my ring.”

“I will always wear it, Adam. If
you lose everything else, I am forever yours.”

Adam kissed her forehead. “It’s
almost certain everything is lost. I bought low and lower it will
fall. I must repay the bank by noon tomorrow.” He touched the
ring on her finger, “I have saved for us a house in the far
paddock, the only property and land I now own outright. Tomorrow I
ride to the bank to sign away the Leigh-Fox estate in payment of vast
debts. I shall return.” He placed a kiss in the hollow of her
neck, she shivered with delight, and his jacket fell from her
shoulders. He picked it up, put it around her again and continued,
“For the rest you must trust me but, be assured, I will find a
way to regain all.”

That night, by the light of a single
candle, Alexandra twirled her quill, thanked Shakespeare, "I
could not have put it better myself," then wrote in her diary,
'What's past is prologue.'

Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

Early the following morning Alexandra
awoke to hear the blackbird asserting the right to his territory
again. To a listener, the melodious declaration was pleasing. For the
blackbird it was a constant, demanding task or another would claim
his rights. A challenger must be seen off at all costs or the loss of
a family and an unfulfilled life might follow.

There was much to do. If the estate
must be sold, she would assist Adam in a practical fashion. How best
to achieve this? She flung the bed covers back and leapt out. She
would attend to her toilette herself and begin by packing her own
belongings – two simple tasks that would ensure she was
available if needed.

In practical attire, her old blue,
flowery cotton travelling dress, she tip-toed down the stairs to the
kitchen to make a drink. All was quiet. Words flooded her mind. “It
is my sad duty to tell you…” Oh how it would hurt Adam
to tell the few remaining servants. And what about Father Fox –
did he already know? She concluded there was little to do until she
had spoken to Adam, except wait. It was good that he was still
sleeping: he would need all his strength in the coming days. She
returned to her room with a cup of hot chocolate. Would they be able
to afford such luxuries in the future? She contemplated Adam’s
ring on her finger; she would never be required to give that up and
it was quite the best exchange she had ever known; she resolved not
to ask what had happened to the silver one.

Then she noticed a folded piece of
paper on the floor, most likely having fallen from the bed when she
flung the covers back. Excitement and trepidation fought for
dominance. Slowly she picked it up and took it to the desk to read.
“My dearest Alexandra, I have no time to explain why I shall
not be here when you wake. I hope it will suffice to say I love you
and I ask that you trust me. I shall return shortly. Adam”

He had gone. Yes, he’d said he
would, but she’d hoped to see him, to assist, to be by his side
before he set off to sign away his inheritance. He was facing alone
the wreckage of Jack’s years of profligacy and his father’s
inadequacy. ‘Return shortly’. How shortly? Today? In a
week? Maybe more? She sipped her hot chocolate and spilt some on the
latest manuscript; this was going to be a most distressing day. She’d
go further than that – it was going to be the worst day ever.
In fact… No! Despairing thoughts were not what were required.
She’d take Holly out. A ride would lift her spirits. The very
thought that Adam had entered her room and left a message, not on her
desk but on her bed, ‘fluttered her butterflies’. His
recent use of this bold turn of phrase was more than matched by his
daring behaviour. Oh how she loved him.

As she neared the stables, she could
hear someone attending to the horses. William was brushing Esky. That
would mean Billy had returned. Seeping into her consciousness was the
realization that Billy had been the messenger awaited by Adam and
he’d be able to tell her if the news was good – or bad.
Enunciating clearly, Alexandra asked to speak to Billy. William
looked troubled and indicated that Billy was asleep in the loft. By
way of splaying his arms out wide and lolling his head, William
conveyed successfully that Billy was unlikely to wake up easily. At
any other time she might have laughed, or insisted on seeing Billy.
If Billy had returned with good news, surely even William would have
managed a smile. Sighing visibly, with William being totally deaf it
was important to act as well as speak, she asked for Holly to be
saddled. But Holly wasn’t there. Adam had taken Holly. If only
she knew what this good or bad news concerned. Catherine had
persuaded her that it was preferable not to get involved –
women had no influence in financial matters so it was just a waste of
time and energy. Momentarily it seemed to Alexandra that waiting to
be told at a time convenient to the men was the real waste of time
and energy. This thought was soon replaced by the reckoning that
riding and writing were infinitely preferable to accounting and
administration.

And so she went for a long walk and
when she came back, Billy was nowhere to be found.

~

It was late in the afternoon when
Alexandra found Billy sitting on the steps at the front of
“Foxhills”. He looked dispirited. Seeing Alexandra, he
leapt to his feet. “Sit down again, Billy, and I’ll join
you.”

“No, Miss Mulberry, I shouldn’t
be at the front at all. You sit, I’ll stand; things aren’t
that bad yet. You and Miss Leigh-Fox are still mistresses,” he
hesitated and, while he thought, he filled in with, “er no,
that don’t sound right.” Then he confidently said, “Still
in charge of this house until I’m told otherwise.”

“Hardly in charge, Billy, but I
know what you mean.”

Billy smiled, “The news was
good.”

“Billy, can you tell me what this
news was?”

“Don’t you know? We’ve
won!”

“Adam has won?”

“No!” blurted Billy.
“Wellington, of course!” He kicked one foot at the other.
“Begging your pardon, Miss, I thought you already knew. It
might've been some other battle, of course, but you’re always
saying about winning the battle at Waterloo.”

Alexandra looked puzzled. “Am I?”
Wasn’t it just… ? Never mind, she’d think about
that later. “Tell me the full story, Billy. When did you arrive
with this news?”

Billy was delighted to oblige and began
re-enacting his starring role in the mystery play. “I arrived,”
he said scuttling down the steps and backing away towards the distant
gates, “on poor, exhausted Esky. Nigh on blasted meself, I was.
All but fell off Esky, I did.” He demonstrated as best as he
could, not having a horse. ‘“Begging your pardon, Mr
Leigh-Fox, sir,’ said I – in great consternation, you
understand. I mean just what was the master doing standing at the top
of the steps in the middle of the night? Waiting for me? Still? The
news must be more than important, more than vital, more than…”

“Indeed, Billy, I get the
picture.”

“Well! Esky was panting away and
steaming all over. And I boomed,” he paused as he could not
resist checking to see his treasured audience was still with him.

“Sergeant Major Sidebotham, even
if you were on your last legs, I’ve no doubt this message was
delivered with the import it deserved.”

Encouraged, he continued. “I
boomed, ‘Wellington’s won!’ And do you know what
sir said?”

Alexandra duly shook her head.

‘“That’s good news,
Billy,’ as if he he’d just been told the war had been won
but the Earth blown up.” Billy conveyed his disappointment with
Adam’s lack of enthusiasm with a convincingly crestfallen face
and a huge shrug of his shoulders.

So I said, like, just to give him
another chance to grasp it, “Yeah, great news, sir. What say
you?”

Alexandra could not conceal her
amusement. Surely this re-enactment should explain the significance
of the victory? However, it seemed to show only that the news had
arrived too late to be classed as ‘beneficial’.

“Well, the master went inside,
stood staring at the clock he was. Suddenly, like there was a
battalion of Frenchies pursuing him, he bounds up the stairs,
shouting at me to saddle Holly and in no time at all, I’m
bumping into him in the stables and he’s stuffing saddlebags
with papers, then he’s gone.” Billy clapped his hands
together and flung them in the air apparently thinking he was
demonstrating Adam’s instantaneous disappearance.

“To the bank,” said
Alexandra finally comprehending the importance of Billy’s tale
and Adam’s hurried note to her. “Let’s hope he is
in time.”

Moments later, Billy and Alexandra
noticed two carriages, each with two matched, dappled greys, making
stately progress from the front gates. “I’ll call Johnson
and William, Billy. You stay here.”

Alexandra returned to find Jack and
Charlotte Carpenter alighting from her father’s smart landau.
Father Fox had travelled behind in the Carpenter’s curricle.
Despite the warmth of the June sunshine, Alexandra felt a shiver.

Billy’s polite suggestion to
attend to the horses was rebuffed.

“We are not staying,” Jack
announced to Alexandra as he pushed past her and through the open
door. He then bellowed for Johnson who, in response to Alexandra’s
earlier call, was already on his way. “You’ll find three
boxes in the curricle. Have them brought in and take one up to my
room and put one in the morning room and leave the other outside the
door to the drawing room.” He turned to see his prospective
wife and mother of his child sailing through the doorway and called
to Alexandra, “Find Catherine and see that Charlotte is waited
upon whilst I attend to business.”