Page 55 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
Chapter 19
Emmeline walked through the grounds, the sound of birdsong bright and joyous in her ears. Her eye moved distractedly over the new flowerbeds the gardeners had begun digging. The space had lost much of its run-down, overgrown feel and light shone in where trees and hedges had been trimmed and the lawns had been mown. Emmeline made her way to the water garden that Lady Rilendale had shown her. She needed time to think. She had barely slept that night, her mind going over and over the kiss with Andrew in the gardens the previous morning.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said aloud in the silence. A bird sang on a branch, its bright calls incongruous with her confused, dark emotions.
Andrew’s confusing behaviour distressed her greatly. Sometimes—like when he kissed her in the garden, or on their ride together, that he was feeling more and more drawn to her as she was to him. But sometimes he withdrew into that cold, aloof persona, the one she had imagined was his whole self when they met. It happened seemingly without provocation, and she could not understand it at all.
“My lady!”
The butler’s voice interrupted her reverie. She looked up to see him hurrying across the lawn. Her first thought was that it was Lady Rilendale—despite Andrew’s positive comments about her just the previous day, Lord Epworth had seemed very downcast in the morning and Lydia had confided he was concerned for their grandmother’s health.
“What is it?” Emmeline asked, standing up at once.
“His lordship requested me to say that a coach has arrived. And a rider. Your horse is at the stables.”
“Starlight!” Emmeline let out a cry of delight and ran to the butler. “Thank you!” She beamed at him.
He went faintly pink. “I cannot take credit, my lady,” he said with a small smile.
“Thank you anyway,” Emmeline said warmly and ran towards the stables. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. The arrival of her horse, and Rebecca and Stanley, her maid and the estate gardener, was grand news and lifted her spirits considerably.
“Starlight!” she yelled, running across the grounds towards the horse. She was being led by the groom, and when she heard Emmeline’s voice, the small, white mare turned and reared, running straight for her mistress.
“Starlight!” Emmeline repeated, throwing her arms around the horse’s neck. Starlight stood with her head over Emmeline’s shoulder, whickering in greeting as Emmeline stroked her neck and hugged her and cried.
“Should I stable her, my lady?” the groom asked. Emmeline, her face still muffled in her horse’s neck, turned to reply.
“Please. And rub her down thoroughly. She looks saddle-sore and weary,” she added, gazing at her horse. She had no idea how long or with whom Starlight had made the journey, but her horse looked exhausted, her stance weary, her eyes tired.
“Of course, my lady,” the groom replied at once.
Emmeline stroked Starlight again, staring into her limpid brown eyes. Then she turned and hurried to the house, where two bewildered-looking people stood in the carriage path.
“Blimey, my lady!” Rebecca greeted her. “This place is grand.”
Emmeline beamed. “It’s grand to see you, Rebecca,” she said warmly. “And you too, Stanley,” she added, turning to the tall gardener, whose big shoulders and tall frame dwarfed Rebecca though she was not short.
“Pleased to be here, my lady,” Stanley replied shyly. Emmeline smiled.
“I’m sure Mr Pearson will help you both to settle in,” she added. She did not know exactly where the servants’ lodgings were at Rilendale.
“I will attend you directly that I’m settled, my lady,” Rebecca replied firmly. “Won’t have no foreign types doing your hair.”
Emmeline giggled. Rebecca had grown up at Ashmore in the countryside and she was suspicious of anyone from London, though she had stayed there, and in Bath, with Emmeline whenever the family was in residence there.
“I’ll be delighted to have you style my hair again, Rebecca,” she said honestly.
She was grinning with delight as she went upstairs and into the entranceway, the two new staff members waiting uncertainly for Mr Pearson on the stairs.
“Emmeline,” Andrew greeted her. Emmeline tensed. She had not expected to see him, and she drew an awkward, nervous breath, but the arrival of her beautiful horse and her friends from Ashmore had helped strengthen her.
“Andrew,” she replied briefly. “Would you care for a walk about the grounds?”
He blinked, surprised. “I would,” he replied, and Emmeline found it impossible to discern what he was thinking from his expression.
They went outdoors into the garden together.
“Your horse is well?” Andrew asked her as they walked down the path. “Mr Pearson informed me of her arrival.”
