Page 12 of Beth: A Regency Romance Novell

“Ready for a canter?” He patted the chestnut’s glossy neck as he put on the bridle. Zeus tossed his head and pawed the ground, always eager for a run. A few moments later, Marcus rode down the lane and headed for the pike road leading out of London. He considered the quickest way to Twickenham was through Richmond. He glanced up at the sky where the waning moon struggled free of clouds. The breeze freshened and a bank of indigo clouds hovered on the horizon alerting him to a change in the weather. He hoped they would not advance too fast. With a bit of luck, once he’d crossed the bridge at Richmond he could follow the river. He should be able to find the place.

As he cantered through the dark streets, the Townhall clock struck two. Beth had been gone for hours. He tightened his jaw. Maybe he would be too late to save her from Ramsey’s seduction. But not too late to get her discreetly away and returned to her family, after he took Ramsey apart limb by limb. What if she welcomed the baron’s attentions? He would be blundering in where he wasn’t wanted. But his loyalty to Andrew and his opinion of Beth’s character, brief as it was, made him ride on.

On the floor above, Ramsey, his hand gripping her arm, pulled Beth along the corridor, and shoved her through a bedchamber door. He slammed the door shut behind her. As she stood on the dingy gray carpet she struggled with relief that he’d left her alone, and the fear he would soon return. Then, taking stock, a fledgling hope arose that she might yet escape. But to where? The paneled walls closed the bedchamber in and made the room stuffy and confining. An air of sadness hung over it, emphasized by the faded damask that dressed the windows and the bed, an enormous monstrosity of carved walnut. More of the same heavy furniture lurked in corners. The room thick with dust, smelled musty.

Beth discovered the commode in the adjoining dressing room. A basin of water and a towel on the dresser had been left for her. Surprised to find it, and then that the water was still warm, she washed her face. But the attempt to make herself feel better failed. She gazed into the Cheval mirror, barely taking note of her appearance, her desperate thoughts on a way to escape. A flash of white appeared in the corner of her eye. Beth swung around. But there was no one there. She hurried back into the bedchamber. It was empty.

Beth’s blood ran cold. A white gown and a bridal veil had been carefully laid out on the bed. She was certain it hadn’t been there when she came in, surely she would have seen it. “Is anyone here?” she called her voice hoarse. Goosebumps prickled her arms. Rubbing them she went to the fireplace where a wood fire smoldered. Above the mantel hung a long gilt-framed mirror the glass mottled. Warming her hands at the fire, she tried to calm her racing thoughts. She glanced up. In the mirror, a girl in a white dress appeared as though through a mist. For a moment, Beth’s throat closed over. She froze. Then she swung around. There was no one in the room. Was her imagination getting the better of her? She swallowed. “Is anyone here?” she rasped out.

Silence.

“If you’re a ghost, I don’t mind. Really,” she said, her shaky voice belying her words. In her panicked irrational state she considered anyone was welcome. And a ghost might scare Ramsey away.

Chapter Four

While Marcus fought his impatience, he slowed Zeus to a walk to rest the animal. Twickenham was still some miles away across the river. He’d begun to question whether he should have taken the time to wake his coachman and have the horses harnessed to the curricle. He had saved an hour or two, passing through the toll gate speedily, but would the decision prove unwise? The temperature had dropped. To the east the dark clouds on the horizon drew closer driven by the wind. A flash of lightening lit the sky. Glad of his warm greatcoat, he urged Zeus into a gallop.

Some twenty minutes later, and a few miles farther on, the clouds were overhead, hiding the moon. The wind picked up lashing branches and scattering leaves in a swirl over the road. Then the rain came down, a heavy stinging downpour which blanked out the way ahead.

Marcus would have to find shelter, and keeping an eye out, continued at snail’s pace. With a growl of frustration he rode Zeus along the road through dark, dripping woodland. It would be impossible to find Ramsey’s house if the rain continued with this ferocity. Another flash of lightning, too close for comfort, arched across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder overhead. A tree close to the road burst into flames which were extinguished with a hiss. Zeus whinnied and reared in fear almost unseating him.

“It’s all right, boy.” Marcus clung on. He patted the horse’s neck and spoke softly to him, settling him. Not wise to shelter under a tree, it seemed, as another bolt of lightning flashed in the charged air around them.

The downpour eased off a little as they emerged from the trees. Houses appeared. Candlelight shining from cottage windows allowed him to gain his bearings and see the road ahead. Farther on, more houses and the village shops came into view. The rain increased again, and Marcus was forced to ride his nervous stallion beneath a shop’s canopied awning. He dismounted and held the bridle as the storm returned with full force to lash the streets and send a river of water over the road. Frustration tightened Marcus’ gut. He feared he’d fail to reach Ramsey’s house before daylight. What if he’d guessed wrong, and Beth wasn’t there?

Out in the darkness, lightning flashed. Rain beat fiercely against the leaded windowpanes, and the storm closed in around the house as if sealing Beth off from the rest of the world. She examined the wedding gown. The style was the last century’s, with fuller skirts than today’s fashions. The white satin had yellowed slightly, the

lace gathered at the elbows had become limp, and there were threads caught in the fragile net veil. “Which bride wore this?” she murmured to the empty room. Beth trembled while a deep sense of foreboding filled her. She turned slowly listening for any movement beyond the crackle of the fire and the loud beating of her heart.

The tiniest sound like a sharp intake of breath made Beth spin around. She tried to locate the direction from which it came, swallowing to moisten her dry throat. “I know you are here somewhere.” She roamed along the length of wainscoting, her voice faint and indecisive. She cleared her throat again. “Where are you?” she demanded. “Show yourself. I shall find you.” That sounded better. With the fervent hope it was not a ghost she sought, Beth slid her hands over the dusty oak panels. She trailed her fingers along the decorative frieze at the top over the carved acorns and leaves. Might there be a hiding place concealed here somewhere?

At her prodding, a panel slid silently back. With a loud gasp, Beth’s gaze settled first on the white dress in the gloom, then rose to a face stricken with as much fear as Beth felt herself.

“Who are you?” Beth asked, finally, hot with relief at finding a flesh and blood person.

The girl who looked no more than fifteen or so, bobbed in a ludicrous curtsey. “Lilly, miss. I be the maid ’ere.”

Of course. The fires, the hot water. Ramsey would hardly do all that himself. Beth was so pleased to see her she wanted to throw her arms around her. Instead, she forced a smile and took hold of Lilly’s trembling hand. She drew her into the room. The maid was pretty, with dark curly hair beneath her cap, her gray eyes filled with tears.

“Oh miss, please don’t tell the master. ’e’ll be ever so angry. I’m not supposed to show meself.”

“You have nothing to fear from me, Lilly. I hate him. I won’t tell him a thing.” Beth peered into the horrid dark space where a curtain of cobwebs swung from the low ceiling. The strong smell of mice and the dust of ages seeped out. She peered through the gloom to see wooden steps leading down. Her pulse raced at the hope of escape. “Where do those steps go?”

“The staff stairs, miss, for the servants to tend to guests in the drawing and dining rooms. Leads down to the kitchen, cellars, and the butler’s pantry. Have to go carefully, the treads be rotten.”

“Never mind that. I can escape through the kitchen door into the gardens. He’ll never know you helped me.”

“Can’t. Keeps it all locked he does, miss.”

Beth almost crumpled with disappointment.

Lilly sent an anxious glance to the door. “I should go, miss. “’is lordship will be wantin’ ’is supper.”

Beth grabbed her arm. “No! Wait, please Lilly. I need your help. I am held here against my will.”

Lilly nodded. “A villain is ’is lordship, miss. Never known the like.”

Beth stared at the frightened girl. “What has he done?”

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