A Reason to Rebel by Wendy Soliman Page A

that. I should have known that harp would be your undoing. I would not have been able to resist it either, had I been in your position.”
    Estelle smiled and thanked Lady Crawley. She felt more dispirited by the minute for deceiving her but did not scruple to obey. She had known the dictate would be issued the moment the viscountess saw she had taken to her bed.
    “Lady Jacobs is to hold a house party in two days’ time,” said Lady Crawley, once tea and a delicate selection of cakes had been delivered and the maid had left them alone. “She reminded me about it this afternoon. Dear Miss Jenkins will be there too, of course. Alex and I are expected and although I said we would attend, I do not now see how I can go. I cannot possibly leave you when you are so unwell, although I daresay Alex will still wish to form part of the party.”
    “Oh no, Lady Crawley, you must go. I insist!” How much more guilt would this charming lady unwittingly heap upon her already overburdened shoulders? Estelle did not think she could bear it. “I would not for the world have you miss the entertainment because of me. Besides, I daresay you would not wish to miss an opportunity to further Lord Crawley’s intimacy with Miss Jenkins. House parties are ideal situations for matchmaking, are they not?”
    “Oh dear me, yes, there is that. Lady Jacobs and I referred to the matter just this afternoon. We both have such high hopes in that regard and Miss Jenkins herself is, I believe, not averse to the notion. It does seem like too good an opportunity to pass up. Dear Miss Jenkins was looking quite pretty today. I wish Alex could have seen her in her pink dimity. Oh dear, I really do not know what it would be best to do.”
    “My dear Lady Crawley, do not spare me a thought, I beg of you. I shall be quite comfortable here. Of course you must go.”
    Lady Crawley left Estelle alone after they finished their tea but came to check on her after she had taken her dinner alone with her son. She sat with her for over half an hour, chattering away, fuelling Estelle’s guilt. When, yawning discreetly behind her hand, her ladyship declared that she too would retire early, Estelle was at last satisfied there would be no further interruptions and set her plan in motion. She placed the most serviceable gown she possessed in her valise and packed the other few items she could not manage without, including, naturally, her favourite shawl.
    She stared out of the window, impatiently tapping her fingers on the sill. She was not surprised to notice that even nature had conspired against her, providing only a miniscule amount of moonlight by which she would have to navigate her way towards the long driveway and thence to the village. She shuddered, aware that her fear of the dark was about to be tested for the second time in one day.
    All was in readiness and she must wait now until she was sure the household had settled for the night. Her only remaining task, and a crucial one, was to pen a few lines to Lady Crawley to account for her sudden departure. Easier said than done. Half an hour later she had still had not written a single word. Compounding a falsehood by committing it to paper was so much more difficult than merely living a lie. But eventually it was done. A sudden summons to a new post received late the previous day was a wretched excuse and one which would not stand up to the mildest scrutiny. But she could think of nothing better to account for her sudden disappearance. She added that she had left the house at first light, walking the short distance to the village in order to catch the early mail coach, since she had no wish to give further trouble by requesting transportation. She ended by offering warm thanks to her hostess for so diligently restoring her to health but avoided any mention of where she was headed.
    Estelle could imagine Lady Crawley’s distress when she read this most inadequate of letters. Picturing her kindly face wrinkling with