The Heart of love Page 3

  He returned to the business of cracking open his egg.

  Verena looked at him questioningly.

  “So I have indeed encountered the Duke before?”

  “Dearest, surely you have not forgotten that you have met the Duke of Dalkenneth?” he continued, not looking up from his egg. “He was here the year before last to discuss some business. He was eager for hunting, but I was in no mood for it at that time.”

  A vision of an ill-disposed man in his forties suddenly came shudderingly to Verena. She remembered with horror his mean face and tiny black eyes like withered raisins and who had grumbled a great deal about the lack of sport.

  “The Duke’s wife died last year,” added the Countess, “and now that his period of mourning is over, he is keen to wed again. Sadly, there was no issue from his previous union and he wants children immediately. Your offspring will inherit a sizeable fortune, not to mention vast estates in Scotland. I will look forward to being a step-grandmother.”

  ‘This evening,’ she thought, in desperation. ‘It has to be this evening that I make my escape!’

  Excusing herself from the table, she slipped quietly away through the house towards the stables. Running across the courtyard, she was more determined than ever – but she needed help.

  As she passed Barker’s living quarters, she could see that the door had been barred and that a group of workmen were inside knocking at the plaster.

  ‘What is going on here?’ she wondered.

  At the other end of the barn, she encountered a very dejected Barker, dragging a sack full of belongings behind him.

  “Mornin’, my Lady.”

  “Barker, what on earth is going on? Why are there workmen in your living quarters?”

  “It’s her Ladyship,” he began, putting down his sack. “She wants to turn that end of the barn into more stables. She’s told me that I ’ave to sleep on the floor with the ’orses, my Lady.”

  Verena was outraged. How dare her stepmother treat such a faithful servant in this fashion!

  “I shall speak to her immediately.”

  “No, my Lady, please don’t.” sighed Barker wearily. “It may only make things worse. I am old, who would take me on if she dismisses me?”

  Verena looked compassionately at the old groom. He had been employed in the household for as long as she could remember and had served her mother before her marriage.

  Yet she must ask him a favour that would surely put his future in jeopardy –

  “Barker, do you recall a visitor some two summers ago, one the Duke of Dalkenneth?” asked Verena as casually as she could, her heart beating wildly.

  She felt as if she knew what he was about to say.

  Barker nodded his head in assent.

  “Believe I do, my Lady. A right piece of work too, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so. A fine mount he had – a black stallion not unlike your Jet and he beat him and one of my stable boys! One day he tried to set about me with a whip until your mother ’appened to come by and stepped in. I will always owe her a huge debt for that.”

  Verena took a deep breath.

  “Barker, now I have something I must ask of you but first, have I your sworn word that you will not tell a soul?”

  Tears began to fill her eyes as she pleaded with the old groom.

  Barker looked at her with kindness. He loved Verena as his own and would do anything for her, but what was it that drove her to take a servant into her confidence?

  “My father and stepmother have promised me in marriage to that very Duke. He is coming here this weekend to view me as he would a brood mare! Barker, I cannot stay here, but I need your help.”

  “I don’t know, my Lady. Much as I don’t care for the new Countess, she could make my life very difficult if I helped you run away. I would be ruined if she were to dismiss me.”

  Verena took the old man’s calloused hand and looked into his eyes pleadingly, her own spilling over.

  “Please, Barker, my mother would not have wanted this enforced marriage for me. All I ask is that you help me escape. It would be in the dead of night, no one would find out, please, I beg you. You are my only hope.”

  After what seemed like an eternity, the old man nodded his head with a sigh.

  “Right, my Lady. We had better start making plans. Now, you take yourself off and pack while I make the light carriage ready. I’ll tell the others that her Ladyship wishes to go to Bournemouth to buy a new dress tomorrow so as not to make them suspicious.”

  “Thank you, thank you!” cried Verena. “I will reward you handsomely, I promise.”

  “No need for that, my Lady. It’s what your good lady mother would have wanted.”

  Verena could barely contain her excitement as she strode back towards the house. The first part of her plan was now in place!

  *

  All that day, she kept herself busy. After Violet had brought up the clean laundry, she took down a small leather case from the top of her armoire and began to pack.

  ‘I have to travel light as I can easily buy new clothes once I have arrived at my destination, wherever that might be. Two dresses, a cloak, some under things and a few trinkets.’

  She counted them as she packed the case. She then took out a matching vanity case with a secret. Hidden inside it was a false bottom where she would secrete her diamond necklace, some other jewels and a sheaf of five pound notes – money her mother had left her when she died.

  ‘A small black silk bag and a purse with some silver coins, a bottle of my favourite perfume and a tiny gold mirror and comb.’

  Her head felt curiously light and dizzy as she went about her business.

  ‘I cannot believe that tonight I will leave Rosslyn Hall,’ she sighed, as she looked at her reflection in her dressing table mirror.

  ‘A new life!’

  For a moment, her heart became filled with sadness.

  She looked at the circular picture frame that contained a portrait of her mother. It had been taken in a studio in Bournemouth, not long before she died. Verena remembered the day well –

  ‘Mama, wherever I travel, you are coming with me! Then it will be as if you are watching over me and guiding my every move.’

  Just then there came a knock on her door – it was Violet. Verena could see the door handle flailing wildly up and down. Violet could not enter as she had locked the door.

  “My Lady, the Countess wishes to see you downstairs in the garden room,” she called through the door.

  “Tell her I am not yet dressed. I will be down in ten minutes,” shouted Verena, hastily sliding her cases under the bed. “I have a slight headache.”

  Verena prepared herself to face her stepmother for the last time. Smoothing back her hair, she unlocked the door and walked slowly downstairs.

  Verena looked up wistfully at the paintings of her ancestors on the stairway and ran her hand along the carved handrail.

  So many memories! But she must be strong, there was so much at stake.

  Entering the garden room, she could see her stepmother was seated, reading a sheaf of menus.

  “Ah, Verena.”

  “You wanted to see me, stepmother?”

  “Yes, there are a few items I wished to go over with you for the weekend.”

  “Naturally,” replied Verena coolly, the very model of obedience.

  “Firstly I have instructed Violet that she is to dress your hair up and to make sure if you go outdoors that you are wearing a hat at all times,” declared the Countess. “I do not wish the Duke to form a bad impression of you or to think that you are beyond control. You must act and appear the perfect lady. Is that understood?”

  Verena nodded eagerly.

  The Countess regarded her sternly for a second.

  “Secondly, you will make yourself available to the Duke whenever he is in the house. I do not wish you to go riding or hunting all weekend. You may partake of ladylike pursuits such as needlework or painting only, is that clear?”

 
“Utterly, stepmother.”

  “Good. I can see that you have come round to my way of thinking. I am pleased that you have seen sense at last.”

  “Stepmother, may I be excused dinner this evening? Violet can bring me a tray. I wish to retire early so as to look my best.”

  The Countess smiled, confident that she had won.

  “Of course, my dear. I am glad that you are taking your responsibilities so seriously.”

  Verena turned and smiled to herself. This was a clever stroke on her part indeed. Tonight she would be free to start her new life away from Rosslyn Hall.

  *

  It was gone midnight when Verena arose, having only slept fitfully. She was too excited to do more than merely doze.

  At the appointed hour, she slid her cases out from under the bed as silently as she could. Tiptoeing around the room, she caught up her cloak and boots and laid them across her waiting cases. Although it was nearly summer, she did not want to risk being caught in a downpour and getting wet feet.

  She quickly put on a plain cotton dress as she did not want to draw attention to herself and she tied up her hair into a loose ponytail.

  She waited until the house was absolutely quiet and she was sure that the last maid had gone to bed before opening her bedroom door. Turning, she looked quickly around the room for one last time.

  ‘No going back,’ she whispered to herself and closed the door behind her.

  The house was more or less in darkness, save for the few gas lamps in the corridor. She hurried down to the back door and opened it slowly, hoping that the hinges would not creak and wake the scullery maid who was snoring nearby.

  The moonlight shone through the glass door as she edged it open and slid outside.

  Running across to the stables, she could hear the horses snuffling and blowing.

  As she approached the barn door at the far end, Barker emerged clad in a cloak and hat she had never seen before.

  “This way, my Lady,” he hissed.

  He took her to the rear of the stables where a small carriage was tethered to a single horse. The horse shook its mane and looked most displeased to be up at this hour.

  “Give me your cases, my Lady!”

  It was then that Verena realised that she had forgotten her handbag!

  “Oh, no, I have to go back. I have left my bag behind!

  With bated breath, she made her way back across the courtyard to the kitchen door and ran as quietly as she could through the house.

  As she approached her room, she suddenly heard a noise behind her.

  She turned to see Sarah, the Countess’s maid, standing behind her, candle in hand, dressed in her nightclothes.

  “My Lady?” she questioned with just a shadow of a sneer on her face. “Running away from us?”

  Verena turned pale in the darkness.

  Could Sarah have guessed her plan? Surely she had been careful enough? She had not told a soul apart from Barker and he would never betray her.

  “Alas! You have caught me red-handed,” she bluffed and then laughed. “I could not sleep for excitement anticipating this weekend, so thought that a walk around the grounds might calm me. I now find myself quite tired out, so if you will excuse me –”

  Sarah regarded her for a second.

  “Then I’ll wish you good night, my Lady.”

  Verena heaved a sigh of relief as Sarah disappeared off down the corridor. She quickly retrieved her bag from her room and waited until she heard the servant mount the stairs to the attic bedrooms.

  ‘I cannot let my nerve desert me now,’ she told herself, as she hurried back along the corridor.

  Barker was waiting anxiously for her by the stables.

  “Thank Heavens, there you are, my Lady. I had started thinking you had changed your mind.”

  “I was apprehended by my step-mother’s maid,” explained Verena, climbing into the carriage, “now, let’s be gone before anyone else wakes up.”

  Barker tipped his hat and walked the horse and carriage out of the stables and towards the road that wound away from the house. Rosslyn Hall had many entrances apart from the main approach and they were making their way along the route that the service carriages used when delivering goods.

  “You haven’t told me yet, my Lady, where we are going?”

  “Poole Harbour. From there, I do not yet know.”

  “Surely it isn’t safe for a young lady to be travelling on her own? No chaperone! The Countess would not approve.”

  “I have no choice, Barker, I will be safe enough. I feel as if my mother is watching over me.”

  “I do hope she is,” sighed the old groom.

  He led the horse and carriage down to the rear gates of the park. As they approached, he took out a large key, unlocked the gates and then steered his precious cargo through.

  On the other side, he locked the gate behind him and pocketed the key.

  “Right-o, then my Lady. Hold on tight, I ’ave to be back before dawn if I’m not to be discovered.”

  Verena’s mind was whirling as Barker cracked the whip over the brown mare’s elegant head and the carriage jerked into motion.

  On and on they sped through the night, through the village without seeing another soul, over the heath and away in the direction f the coast.

  ‘What will my father do when he discovers I have gone?’ thought Verena. ‘Will he send out a search party? Will he catch me before I even get on a ship?’

  So many questions – it seemed as if her head was bursting. It was only the calming vision of her mother that sustained her as the carriage plunged on into the night.

  Verena wrapped her cloak tightly around her. It was so dark out that she could not even make out the passing countryside. She wondered how Barker knew the way, but as he had lived in these parts for most of his life, she reckoned that he would have found the way even if he had been blindfolded.

  She was close to nodding off as they approached Barbeck Bridge. The carriage rumbled over the rough cobbles and jolted her out of her slumber. As they reached the other side, the brown mare’s fetlock suddenly gave way as she stumbled into a pothole.

  “Woah!” shouted Barker, as he tried to steer the carriage. It was too light to be stable and was wobbling alarmingly.

  “Woah! Steady. I can’t control you, you silly ’orse.”

  The mare had bolted and was taking off aimlessly.

  Verena screamed as one of the carriage wheels hit a post.

  There was a sickening scraping noise as the carriage listed over to one side and came to rest in a ditch. The mare still tethered o the carriage was whinnying shrilly.

  Verena had been thrown to the floor, bumping her head on the door. She felt dizzy and somewhat shaken.

  Outside she could hear Barker’s soothing voice as he attempted to calm the horse. She was aware that something was very wrong.

  “Woah, steady on, Jessie,” called Barker to the snorting horse. “Now this is a fine mess we’re in.”

  Verena picked herself up off the carriage floor and opened the door. She gasped when she saw the wheel – it had come clean off in the collision and was lying on the ground.

  “I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of an accident, my Lady,” said Barker, tightening the mare’s reins. “I’d better see if I can fix the damage we’ve done.”

  “Oh, no, this is terrible! We are sure to be discovered. I will never get away.” she groaned, wringing her hands.

  Verena was frantic with fear. How would they reach the harbour now?

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Oh, this is hopeless!” cried Verena, as she stepped out of the crashed carriage to survey the damage.

  “Are you hurt, my Lady?”

  Barker was standing by the side of the road, scratching his head.

  “Seems like Jessie managed to sheer off some bolts when she hit that there post.”

  He remained there for what seemed to Verena like an eternity without speaking another word.

  Finall
y, she could bear it no longer. Time was ticking away and for every second they waited, for all she knew, her father could be in close pursuit.

  “Please, Barker, is there anything you can do? I do not wish to sound impatient, but I am afraid that my absence will be discovered.”

  “I just need to find something to fix this wheel back on and we’ll be away in no time,” he announced. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s a tool bag in the luggage compartment with some odds and ends in it – I remember seeing it there when I went to load in your cases, my Lady.”

  “As quick as you can,” urged Verena.

  The old groom was soon rummaging around the luggage compartment, puffing and blowing as he tried to see in the dark.

  Verena could barely contain her anxiety.

  Just then, the moon peeked out from behind a bank of cloud and bathed the carriage in a brilliant glow. It was like a torch from Heaven.

  “Well, thanks be to the Lord,” muttered Barker, “seems like ’im upstairs has taken pity on us.”

  Barker suddenly gave a yelp of delight and walked towards Verena, looking very pleased with himself.

  “Here it is, my Lady. Just what I need to fix that there wheel.”

  He was holding aloft a leather bag. Verena looked at him quizzically.

  “Nuts and bolts, my Lady.”

  Verena heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Now, if you can just give me a hand putting this carriage to rights?”

  Verena stared at him in horror.

  “Come now, my Lady. A few good shoves will get it back on the road. Jessie is happy enough where she is and we need to get to work while she rests. She’s got some miles to cover yet awhile if we are to make the harbour before dawn.”

  There was nothing for it but to help Barker heave the coach back upright.

  “One big shove, now, my Lady and we’re there.”

  Verena was glad of the dark as she felt quite sure that her appearance was most unattractive at this moment.

  With one last effort, the carriage slowly rolled back upright. Barker chocked up the wheel arch with stones and set to work.

  “Pass me that mallet, will you, my Lady?”

  Verena pulled a large wooden object out of the leather bag and handed it to Barker. Truly, this was a real adventure, even if she had not foreseen this particular turn of events.