Page 29 of In Search of a Husband
Thinking of the marquess, of leaving her friends behind, of her employer… left her feeling things best shut away, anyhow. Everyone preferred her cheerfulness as much as she did herself, and ruminating wouldn’t help solve anything. She accepted this position and would make the best of it.
Even though she was very lonesome.
It felt as if it were her against the world, and that was a feeling which didn’t sit well with her.
She slipped out through the kitchens, out through the overgrown gardens, past the crumbling stone walls, and over the moat, to carve out a moment of peace along the tree-lined riverbank. The water moved slowly, weaving its way down from the mountains behind her.
The screech of a golden eagle cut through the air above, and she glanced up, hopeful to finally set eyes on the magnificent bird. But as always, she missed it.
The Scottish Highlands were a far cry from London or her father’s country estate in Cumbria. It was harsh and beautiful, full of contradictions.
Slowly, Kate removed her boots, peeled off her patched stockings, and then her dress. She shivered against the cool late September breeze in her chemise. She neatly folded her clothes and set them aside on the rocks by the shore of the river and grabbed a bar of soap. With her head tipped back to watch the clouds, she slowly stepped into the slow, lazy river relishing the cool water licking her skin as she sank deeper and deeper.
What was she going to do, stuck here in Scotland? Her charges hated her, as did her employer, and it appeared as if everything was well out of sorts. Desperation hung in the air at Dunsmuir Castle, and considering she, herself, already felt that, too, made it a miserable place to be spending her time.
Charlotte would help.
Charlotte always helped. But was it fair to ask her friend to rescue her when she had barely tried?
Kate unpinned her long, black hair and dipped under the cool water. The silence flooded her senses, and little by little, she felt the knots in her body untangle. She wondered what would happen if she just remained below the waterline. Could she push past the uncomfortable burn in her lungs to stay another moment? Another moment still?
Until darkness.
She burst through the water, gasping for air, terrified.
Never had… What was wrong with her?
“Miss Bancroft!” Lorna yelled.
Kate wiped at her eyes, certain her chest would collapse from expectation. Expectation to accept a man’s poor conduct that brought around her ruin. Why must she bear that, and be the one punished?
“Lorna, you are supposed to be with Mrs. Malcolm. Is everything all right?”
Her attention shifted to the figure darting along the treeline, squealing in delight.
“Girls! Wait… don’t take those. Please. Girls!”
“Enjoy yer swim, Miss Bancroft!” Lorna hollered, tagging after her sister with their arms full of Kate’s clothes.
“Girls!”
Kate slapped her hand against the water, furious. The soap slipped from her palm and began sinking down into the murky depths.
Perfect.
She inhaled a deep breath and dove, grasping through the water to find it, looking about as elegant as a duck with its bum in the air diving for fish.
She pushed her body deeper, opening her eyes for a moment to check on how far the soap was falling. If she could swim down two more feet, she could reach it. Certain, she pushed forward until a hand grasped her ankle.
Panic bubbled in her chest. The Kelpie!
She had neatly dismissed the girls earlier, and now the irony was she would drown in this river. A firm grip dragged her backward through the water. She fought against it, swimming downward, trying to secure the soap and shaking off the rude grasp of her body.
Charlotte might have been surprised to have learned Kate was going to be a governess, but Kate bet her friend would never have considered having to write an obituary involving drowning by Kelpies.
The handhold was too strong and pulled her closer to the surface.
“Whoa, lass,” a deep voice boomed from the other side of the water.
