Page 66 of The Runner
‘But you shall return, shall you not… once you have done your duty by your aunt?’
Caroline did not see how she could ever return to the home she adored, so she said, ‘Fret not, my sweet Livvy. All shall be well, and soon enough Lord Cavendish shall return with his new wife on his arm, and you shall have a true sister; one who is worthy of your place in the world.’
‘But I do not want another sister, Caroline. You are my true sister,’ she sniffed.
As they embraced, tears slid from Olivia’s eyes, and Caroline’s tender heart ached as she pressed a pretty ornate brooch into her hand. ‘I want you to have this small token to remember me by and whenever you are in need of comfort, you shall know you are in my heart simply by looking at it.’
Caroline had already breakfasted with the servants and Cook came running out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, flustered and pink cheeked. ‘Oh, I am glad I caught you. I wanted to be here to wave you off, my lovely one. You shall be missed indeed.’
As the carriage, emblazoned with the Cavendish family crest, rolled down the willow tree-lined drive, Caroline waved to her small entourage and only when the horses turned out of the estate and onto the bumpy track, did she allow her tears to fall freely.
Caroline did not worry overly about Olivia—she would be well taken care of, but she would miss her dreadfully. And she dared not even think about how much she would miss George. She wiped her face with the handkerchief he had given to her, and then she twirled it in her hands, running her fingers over the monogrammed letters: GC.
The vivid dreams had left her of late and the enchanting window which had given her a glimpse into another life and seemed so real, had closed. Caroline doubted the veracity of the dreams as each day the memories retreated further from her consciousness and their connection to reality weakened.
She wiped her eyes, tucked the handkerchief into her cloak pocket, and straightened her hunched shoulders. The time for crying was no more. Now, she must gather her wits to face the unknown path that lay ahead, for there was no sick elderly aunt in London anxiously waiting to welcome her beloved niece.
Caroline was alone and must begin a new life in London.
CHAPTER28
East London - Georgiana
George alighted from the coach,which his man arranged, and alerted no one at the palace. They left by the back entrance, hoping not to attract attention.
He wrinkled his nose.
Whatever was that dreadful stench?
He didn’t need idle chatter at court concerning his whereabouts—there were enough rumours flying around after Charlotte left court suddenly and was said to have returned to her family home in Derbyshire. Queen Caroline had requested George’s presence and wished to know why the match wouldn’t go ahead.
‘I can’t think of a finer couple, and it shocked me when Charlotte begged my permission to leave. I heard about your impending betrothal, so I must say I am sorely disappointed…’
George furnished the queen with as little detail as possible, only saying that they had not been as well suited as they both initially thought, and it had been a mutual decision not to make it a formal arrangement. They would, of course, remain friends, he had assured the queen with his most charming smile, which melted the frostiest of hearts.
‘Well, it is surely a blow for poor dear Charlotte to lose the prospect of such an eligible husband, and I must say I feel for the girl.’
The queen had a soft spot for George, so she was soon distracted from the subject of his betrothal and allowed him to amuse her with his witty observations on the latest goings-on in London. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was excused once Robert Walpole arrived for his regular audience with the queen.
George bade the coachman to wait in the narrow side street and surveyed the tiny, shabby terraced house with the peeling paintwork, before walking purposely to the door and raising his hand to knock. No one answered at first, but finally he heard movement from within and the sound of shuffling feet. ‘Hello,’ said the small hunched over woman peering through the crack in the door. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’m here to see Mistress Caroline Radcliff,’ he said, but immediately knew from the blank expression on the old woman’s face she had no clue to whom he was referring.
He pressed, ‘Are you by any chance Mistress Radcliff’s aunt?’
‘Never ‘eard of ‘er, Sir,’ she said.
George pulled the letter out of his pocket and squinted in the harsh daylight as he checked the address in his mother’s letter. ‘Is this 8 Parson’s Walk?’
The woman nodded. ‘It is indeed, and I’ve lived here most of my life. Ain’t no Mistress Radcliff here, I can assure you.’
The bells of the nearby church pealed out joyfully to proclaim the morning service, and George looked around the filthy street, feeling anything but joyous. Perhaps he should be relieved Caroline wasn’t here, after all. He couldn’t abide the thought of her living in such squalid surroundings. Although her father’s cottage in Willow Wick was no grand house, it was charming in its own quaint way and in a beautiful rural spot with clean air and situated only minutes from the river.
Here in the streets of London, beggars sprawled in front of the tavern, the cobbles were stained with piss and the stench was putrid. Not for the first time, he thanked God for his good fortune that he wasn’t born to the lower classes.
George left the palace discreetly at all times of the day and night to make discreet enquiries about Caroline’s whereabouts. He soon concluded she must have given a false address so he wouldn’t be able to find her, and his heart was full of remorse at how he had deserted her when she was in such a state of despair. Churning the situation over and over in his mind, he asked himself what else he could have done. What should he have done? He had fully intended to follow through with his plan to ask Charlotte for her hand in marriage to fulfil his duties. He had believed it to be the right thing to do. But each time the moment presented itself when they were alone and he might formally ask her, he heard a fierce internal whisper telling him not to do it, and then Caroline’s face loomed before him. Eventually, Charlotte grew frustrated at his failure to declare his intentions and she confronted him.
Meanwhile, the dreams returned, and Caroline was in his mind constantly and consumed his every thought. He grew ever more conflicted, and the pain and exhaustion showed on his handsome face. It was not the face of a besotted suitor about to be united with his love.
