Fenella J. Miller by Christmas At Hartford Hall Page B

point in arguing; she would do as she was told. Snatching up the precious folder, she hurried into her bedchamber. Thank God she had already packed a bag with essentials. At least she would not arrive at her destination without a change of clothes. There was just time to tear off her gown and pull on her warmest garment. Her cloak was on and her boots laced when her ladyship stormed in.
    “Do you come quietly, or do my men have to drag you out like a felon?”
    With calm dignity, Elizabeth picked up her bag and walked past her tormentors with her head held high. She knew, even if they did not, she was no longer friendless and destitute. James and Lord Bloomfield would come and find her when they discovered this woman’s perfidy.
    She could hear Eleanor sobbing quietly but did not look back. She needed all her fortitude to get her down the stairs without mishap. She was not to leave via the front door, but was pushed unceremoniously through a rear exit. After the warmth of the house the cold outside quite took her breath away.
    “Release me at once. I promise you will get your comeuppance for your part in this. I have no need of your escort; I am quite capable of walking down the drive myself.”
    Ignoring the two footmen, she strode off into the darkness. There was not even a glimmer of moonlight to help her see the way. The crunching behind her soon stopped. They had obviously decided she would leave of her own volition and did not need their assistance. No doubt, they would be in their beds, snug and warm, before she reached the end of the drive.
    Even though the night was inky black, the snow glowed strangely and she was able to find her way safely to the gravel drive. She sent up a fervent prayer she would be able to complete the three mile walk without falling into a ditch or freezing to death. She stopped for a moment to adjust her muffler so it obscured her nose and mouth then, with her bag held tightly to her chest beneath the folds of her cloak, she resumed her march.
    Several times she stumbled, grazing her hands and knees and dropping her bag. Then as if her prayers were answered, the clouds drifted away leaving the lane bathed in silver light. The church clock struck twice. She had been walking for almost an hour and should be reaching the outskirts of the town shortly.
    The King’s Head was her destination; she would not give in to her fatigue or allow the numbing cold to interfere. Somehow she would reach safety, take a room and wait until James came to find her. But her legs were leaden and she stumbled and dropped her bag. Several items spilled out.
    There was a five-barred gate leading to a meadow just beside her. This would be ideal to lean against whilst she repacked her bag. She gathered her belongings and picked her way carefully towards the gate. Inches from her destination, her ankle turned and she plunged forwards, striking her head on the gate.

    James found his valet snoring quietly in the dressing room and he had not the heart to wake him for he could quite easily disrobe himself. After putting his garments onto a convenient chair, he climbed into bed, but sleep eluded him. He tossed and turned, heard the clock strike two and decided he might as well get dressed again. His head was buzzing with the amazing possibilities ahead of him.
    Against all the odds, he had finally fallen irrevocably in love with the most wonderful woman. In future, he would no longer be alone, but have someone to share his life with. His mouth curved as he thought how it would feel to hold their first child in his arms.
    “Sir James, you should have woken me. Are you getting up or retiring?”
    “I could not sleep. I’m going downstairs to find myself a hot drink. Why don’t you accompany me?” Shrugging on his navy blue, superfine coat he snatched up a starched white band of material and expertly tied his cravat. “The moon is out and I shall go for a walk whilst you find the kitchens and make me a pot of coffee.