Clarendon Estate (The Sinclair Society, Book Three) Rough Draft

Chapter Eighteen

I have few memories of the journey to London. The carriage was well sprung with velvet on the seats, and the movement lulled me to sleep quickly. My sleep was not restful, however, as nightmares haunted and then awakened me.

Whenever the carriage stopped to change horses, the driver came to the door and asked if I wished to step out for a moment. Only once did I do so, to relieve myself. I had no appetite and the tepid tea offered turned my stomach the one time I did accept the offering.

When night fell, we were forced to stay overnight at a respectable inn. My fatigue and pain must have been written on my face because the innkeeper's wife guided me to my room and ensured I was warm. She also ordered my evening meal brought to my room, though I did little more than pick at it. My arm ached more and more with each passing hour, and the pain kept me awake that night.

The second day of my journey was worse. Whether from the sleepless night or I'd strained my injury from climbing in and out of the carriage, I was in more pain. My head felt as though it were on fire, and coreherent thought seemed an impossibility. I could only trust the driver was an honest man.

By the time, the carriage pulled to a stop in front of Faircroft House, it was dark and I felt sicker than I ever remember. The driver opened the door. "It don't look like anyone was expecting you, miss. You wait right here while I awaken the house."

Too tired to speak, I gave a nod. He must have seen, or else he assumed I had heard him, because he closed the door. There had to be someone awake inside the house. Perhaps only Carlson, the butler, ensuring the doors were secured for the night? He would let me in.

As I waited, I rested my head against the cushion. Did I fall asleep, even for a moment? The next thing I knew the door was open once again. "Miss Juliet!" Carlson's elderly voice exclaimed. I forced my eyes open. He had a lantern in his hand. "Good heavens! Come in at once. What has happened to you?"

"Please make sure the driver is fed and has a place for the night," I said as I climbed out of the carriage. "Is my aunt asleep?"

"I've sent Carter to inform Miss Rycroft of your arrival," Carlson said, without really answering my question. He waved for the footman to come get my luggage. "You do look done in, Miss Juliet. You must have had a bad time of it."

My toe caught and I stumbled. Carlson caught my arm, thankfully not my injured one, and kept me from falling. He was stronger than he appeared to be for being a man who must be in his seventies. "There, there, Miss Juliet," he said in a soothing tone. "Step carefully. We'll look after you now."

He guided me into the house. There was a candle on the side table. Carter came rushing down the stairs with a candle in her hand. "Miss Juliet! What's happened to you?" She put her arm around my waist and guided me towards the stairs. "Come along, you poor thing. You look done in."

If I looked as bad as I felt, it was no wonder they were concerned about me. "Have you been ill, Miss Juliet?" Carter asked as we walked. "My goodness, you're burning up!"

"In a manner of speaking," I managed to say. Everything seemed to be tilting and moving. "My uncle hasn't arrived yet, has he?" The last thing I needed was for him to be at home and woken by this commotion. What would he say? What story would I tell him?

To my relief, the maid shook her head. "You're safe," she said, her tone reassuring. "Now will you be telling me what happened or shall Miss Rycroft have to worry about you until she can get the information out of you?"

"I found him, Carter. The man who killed my family," I found myself confessing heedless of who might have been within earshot. She alone of my aunt's servants knew about my quest and what I had really been doing while away. "And he did not take kindly to my discovery."