May 1891
“Kit! Get yer damn arse outta bed and feed the damn 'orses!”
Lord, I was never going to get used to this old man’s hoarse voice, nor his cockney brogue. I tossed the rag that was my blanket off to the side of my makeshift bed and sat up, rolling my neck in a futile attempt to loosen my muscles. I should have been used to this by now; I had been sleeping on some sort of animal feed or the ground for the past two and a half years.
“Bloody ‘ell!” he yelled again. This time his booming voice was closer to where I sat. “I told ya to get up, I did!”
He hobbled as quick as could be on his lame leg towards me, pitchfork in hand. I grimaced as I saw the maniacal look on his face and realized just how he planned to use the sharp implement. At first, I was frozen in place, utterly dumbfounded, but quickly found my wits as he lunged, prongs facing me, aimed at my nether region.
I rolled just in time, causing him to stab through the sparse cushion of my bed and into the stones beneath. He elicited a number of outlandish curses as the aftershocks reverberated up his arms.
“Bloody ‘ell! I’ll get ya for this boy! I will!” he promised as I stood and backed away slowly as one would when dealing with a grizzled wild boar.
I could see the anger boiling to the surface of his weathered face, and despite the wrinkles, visibly see the muscles twitch in his cheeks.
Hell’s bells! I had to make a precipitous escape. If there was one important lesson learned during my first week, old Mr. Finney was a mean one after a night of overindulging in spirits. Coincidentally, that was every night for the fortnight I had been here.
Before he could take another stumbling step toward me, I bolted through the stable doors, out into the cool morning sun. I pulled my threadbare coat closer around me and pulled down my cap as I scurried to the one place he would never venture. The hothouse, the head gardener’s domain over which he scrutinized over his roses.
In one another’s presence, there was an underlying electrical current between the gardener and Mr. Finney, one of animosity. Due to the consequent avoidance of one another, I found myself seeking solace near the gardener’s abode with increasing frequency. I was not immune to the gossip among the grounds staff, but not one dared mention the history between the two. However, I let my curiosity lie for I feared the wrath which would fall upon me should I ask.
I found my way to a hidden corner near the shed behind the hothouse and planned to wait out Mr. Finney’s drunken outburst. The 'orses, as he called them, could bear to wait for their morning feed.
Reflecting upon my two years wandering the countryside, I thought back to the very night that precipitated my current position in life. The very one during which I decided to hate the Earl of Sutherland.
I berated myself for several days after it happened, wishing I had not been so headstrong and adamantly set on having my dance with the earl. In the midst of the moment, I did not think of anyone walking out onto the terrace and witnessing out close proximity. However, I should have known that the gossip would be sustenance enough for the impertinent Abigail Harding.
Miss Harding was a foolish chit who never learned to keep her gob shut, particularly when it was relating sordid details of another’s life. Always chattering away with the latest gossip, her words spread like wildfire amongst the crowded ballroom. My one compromising night with the earl was no exception. The news of our familiarity reached the ears of Mama and Father within the hour, twisting out of proportion with each mouth it passed through.
By the time Mama and Father found me in the crowd, apparently the earl and I had engaged in a very compromising embrace, suggesting more familiarity than a simple acquaintance in the ballroom. I adamantly denied the false claims as they requested the earl’s private audience in the drawing room of Lady Mayfield’s estate.
YOU ARE READING
Meet Me at Dawn
RomanceOne handsome rogue, one headstrong miss, and one compromising night. Exiled from polite society, and forever banned from the world her mother dreamed for her, Kit Langdon disappeared into the night, vowing to extract herself from that world permane...