12 August 1815
Day 3 of excruciating Torture...?
Caught in the throes of another nightmare, Philip woke to the sun barely streaming through the curtains. He scrubbed his hands over his face and fought to smoothen out his rapid breathing. He mustn't been exhausting his body enough if he were to have such frequent nightmares. He washed and dressed himself instead of disturbing Christopher's valet. And when he judged the time decent enough for him to go to the stables to request for a horse, even the winds carrying His Majesty's Ship wouldn't have moved faster than him.
He took Diamond out. She was a young, spirited mare and he was certain she would relish the challenge. Eschewing his favourite route, he decided upon a hillier one. As he pushed her to her limits, he never felt freer.
The fresh morning air, though chilly enough to cause vapours when he breathed out, was refreshing and swept away the last of the cobwebs of the nightmare.
Two figures cut through the mist, their cloaks billowing behind them in the wind. They grew bigger as he advanced. Even from the distance of what must be two hundred paces away, he could tell who the figure in front was. Miss Kendall.
They glanced at him as he neared, and he saw her eyes widen when she recognised him.
"Good morning, Miss Kendall." He hopped off and bowed.
She returned the greeting. "I did not expect to see you up and about so early in the morning."
"I might say the same of you." He nodded at the baskets covered with a cloth that she and one of the housemaids were carrying. "Are you off to deliver something?"
She nodded. "To my father's tenants. Some of the children have been feeling poorly. And I thought to bring some things to cheer them up."
"How far a walk is it?"
"Not far. Just beyond the rise."
"Miss Kendall, I beg you not to insult my intelligence. I know the lay of the land as well as you do, and beyond that rise, it is another good five miles before you reach any cottage."
He reached for her basket, but she moved back. "Thank you but I can manage, Mr Wyndham."
"Let us not be churlish, Miss Kendall." He tried again and this time she relented, allowing him to take basket from her. Not expecting the weight, he nearly dropped it. "What are you doing, carrying such a heavy basket, Miss Kendall?"
She eyed him disdainfully. "Are you insinuating that I lack the physical strength and hence must rely on a man to help?"
He shook his head. "You have grossly misunderstood my intentions, madam. I wish you'd stop judging my every sentence with so much hostility, Miss Kendall. I merely think you should have been wiser and have some cart send you."
"How noble of you to offer such a suggestion, sir." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Why did I not think of such an ingenious idea?"
"She has, sir," the maid interjected, "but-" she stopped the moment she caught the icy glare of her mistress and hung her head as if she'd been rebuked.
"But?" He prompted, in hopes that Miss Kendall herself would supply the answer.
"But nothing." She held out her hand. "If you will not be accompanying us, Mr Wyndham, I suggest you return my basket and be on your merry way."
"Lead the way, Miss Kendall."
Adelaide glanced out of the corner of her eye at the man who was walking beside her rather stoically. Then she looked back at Diamond plodding along behind, rather sedately. Having ridden Diamond once, she was surprised to see the mare contented to go at such a slow pace. That one time, Diamond only seemed to know one speed, fast.
They'd been walking silently for about a quarter of an hour, but it seemed like hours had passed. She wasn't one to require senseless chatter to fill the void, nor was she one who was possessed with the need to hear her own voice. But this silence was full of tension and unease, and it strung her nerves tight. And that she couldn't abide.
She cast about her mind for some neutral topic they could discuss. "Did you enjoy your morning ride with Diamond?"
"Yes," he stroked her nose with his free hand, "she's a fiery one. Aren't you, girl?" The last one he directed at the horse. "Gave me quite the exercise."
"She certainly enjoys being ridden by the men more than by the ladies."
Wyndham coughed rather violently, startling her.
"Is anything the matter?"
He shook his head as he thumped his chest with his hand. "Nothing. I...must have misheard you."
"That she enjoys being ridden by the men more than by the ladies?" She heard the maid smoother a giggle behind her but ignored it.
"Uh. Yes." His pinched expression discomforted her.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No. No." The maid sniggered and she realised Wyndham was trying hard to suppress a laugh. She felt as if she were the butt of a joke and felt extremely foolish at not knowing why.
"Are you laughing at me?"
"Oh. Most definitely not. We're..." The maid all but collapsed in a fit of laughter at that moment, so hard did she laugh that she had to squat down on her haunches and put the basket on the grass.
Wyndham soon followed after. Though his guffaws were more sedate, the effect on her pride was no more less potent than the maid's laughter.
She barely restrained herself from shouting at the two in mortified anger. When their laughing fit ended, she gritted her teeth and forced out the question in as even a tone as she could manage, "what is so funny?"
"Mum," the maid wiped away her tears, "we weren't laughing at you, I promise."
"We were laughing at what you said because it was delivered in such an innocent tone."
Confusion wrecked her. "But how is what I said funny?"
"I'm not sure unmarried ladies should be told the hidden meaning of what you said."
"When you are married, mum," the maid chimed in, "your husband will surely teach you."
"But how..." Understanding dawned and she struggled to not blush furiously even as the other two tried to suppress their renewed laughter. "I see. But, Harriet, you're not married. Why would you know what it means?"
Harriet stared at her. "I...uh..."
"Are you secretly married?"
The maid shook her head vigorously. "No, mum, I'm not. I swear. But I...have a...sweetheart. And..." Harriet bit her lip, unsure how to continue and she looked at Wyndham, a plea for help evident in her eyes.
Wyndham came to her rescue. "That is to say, her sweetheart taught her about marital relations."
"Oh." This knowledge went against everything she'd been taught, though she supposed she shouldn't be surprised. She'd overheard many a conversation between the married women in the village discussing about which young couple having to marry immediately because of a babe on the way. "Well...it's nice to know you have a sweetheart, Harriet. I hope he treats you well."
"Yes, mum, he does. And I hope you find a sweetheart of your own too."
"Yes, thank you."
The uncomfortable silence returned as they continued walking but Adelaide resolved to not say another word. She'd rather this silence than be the butt of a joke again.
She was glad to see the top of a chimney appear in the distance. It meant they were near, though it would be another hour of walking.
While Philip had known that Miss Kendall would receive a warm welcome, he hadn't predicted just how warm a welcome it would be.
She was feted as she entered the cluster of houses, as though she were the King who'd arrived for a visit. What surprised him more was how she greeted everyone by name and even hugged and played with some of the young children. She didn't seem to mind the dirt on their faces rubbing off on her cloak or dress or even her face. A smudge had somehow appeared on her cheek, which she wasn't aware of and it remained there the entire of their visit.
The scene of the children crowding around her as she distributed flour, herbs and sweetmeats — and the unadulterated joy it brought them — was a humbling view and it reminded him what she'd shared with him yesterday about caring for the farmers. And about the men who marched with him to war.
Before he joined the army, he wouldn't have thought much about these things, about how difficult life was for the labouring poor. But years with his men taught him differently. They opened his eyes to the pittance they earned, the hardships they endured earning a living from working the land or, if they were more fortunate, as an apprentice.
There were many a times that he regretted eating so well as an officer. But few others of his rank and background agreed with him. So, he told himself that after the war ended, he'd do what he could on his brother's estate.
It seems the war made him forget about that. He'd have to thank her for reminding him of his promise to himself.
The other thing that struck him was the tenderness he saw in her eyes as she passed around the foodstuff. It touched something in him. What would it be like to be at the receiving end of such affection without wanting anything in return?
He was curious to know what it was like. Had Mrs Colston ever held such a fondness for him? Or did she merely display it because it was required of her since he had paid for it?
Would he ever be capable of even giving it to someone else? He who'd never been experienced it before...would his future wife expect it from him? Or would theirs be a purely contractual relationship, just like what his parents had?
Such questions left him in a melancholy and despondent mood.
He tried to shake it off by distracting himself by conversing with the children. Or more accurately, listening to them while they nattered off on whatever things they saw or wondered about, which he tried his best to explain.
When they finally departed, after almost three-quarters of an hour later, the sun had risen high enough to burn away the morning mist. And he was in a slightly better mood.
Swinging her empty basket, she checked her watch. "Oh, we best hurry, Harriet. Or Mama will be wondering where I am if I don't appear at breakfast."
"Shall I get young Sean to drive you in the cart?"
She shook her head. "No. Mama will know where I've been if I smell like a farm. It's best if I walk." She handed over the baskets to Harriet and passed her a shilling. "Take these. You can have Sean drive you in the cart if you want. The coin's for him. I'm sure you have duties to fulfil. Best get back before Mrs Harton finds out."
Harriet nodded and dashed off to find Sean. Philip hurried after Miss Kendall who was marching in the opposite direction. "Why don't I take you back on Diamond? It'll certainly be much faster than walking."
"I doubt she will be able to take our combined weight."
"She is a strong one. Besides, I doubt you weigh more than half of my weight. Surely, she can carry as much. She's been fed and watered so she'd be able to manage."
"Even if she can, which I doubt, how will I sit? There is no side saddle."
"You can ride astride."
"Scandalous!"
"No one will be none the wiser if we both keep silent." He felt a drop land on his nose. He looked up at the grey sky. "It looks like you might not have much of a choice, madam."
She looked up as well, muttered something under her breath that sounded very much like a curse, then back at him. "It seems to be the case. But you will let me down at least a mile away. We cannot let anyone else see. It'll be the height of impropriety."
"Half a mile." He quickly interjected when she opened her mouth — to protest he was sure. "We can argue about this until the end of time, but we don't have all day. It's half a mile or right up to the doorstep. Your choice, Miss Kendall."
"You wouldn't dare send me right up to my house while I'm riding astride!"
"Try me."
They both knew she was getting the end of the short stick and her growl of agreement indicated her extreme unhappiness with the situation.
"Lead the way, Mr Wyndham."
They hurried to Diamond and he mounted before helping her up behind him. "You have to put your arms around me, lest you fall off the horse." When her hands rested on his waist reluctantly, he tugged them forward so her chest was pressed against his back. "Interlace your fingers. You will be more secure." With a touch of his boots, they flew down the path and onto the open fields.
The droplets striking them were getting fatter. They were still at least two miles away from the house. He glanced up at the grey clouds hovering about them and hoped they'd be able to make it before the rain grew heavier.
However, he could feel Diamond growing tired. He slowed her down to a trot. "Miss Kendall," he spoke over his shoulder, "we're going to have to change our plans. Diamond here's not going to be able to carry both of us for much longer and we're about a mile away from the house. I'm going to get down and you can take Diamond here the rest of the way." He swung his leg over the horse's neck and slid off before helping her dismount.
"But how will you get back before the rain starts?"
"It won't take long. Besides a little rain will do me good I believe." She frowned in disbelief but said nothing and he knew that she'd also come to the same conclusion. "I trust you'll be able to manage."
"I'm nothing if not resourceful. Help me up." He cupped his hands for her to step on and lifted her.
She rearranged her cloak to some semblance of decency to hide her riding astride but not before he caught a flash of calf and ankle. "Thank you, Mr Wyndham." He noted her grudging tone. "Good day."
He rubbed Diamond's neck affectionately before slapping her rump and he watched the pair of them canter off.
And not a moment too soon for a steady drizzle began. He turned up the collar of his coat and prepare for a cold walk back.
Adelaide dismounted in the warm stable, the sounds of the downpour striking the roof echoing through the building. The head groom, Kirby, looked at her curiously. She knew he wondered why it was her that returned on Diamond instead of the gentleman and when she wasn't even dressed properly for riding. Wordlessly, she took out a crown. They both knew that sometimes money was the only explanation necessary. He smiled, accepting the coin as he took the reins from her. "Give her a treat and an extra helping, Kirby. She deserved it today." He nodded as he led the horse away.
She glanced down at herself. She wasn't dripping puddles. But she definitely needed to change. She stood at the doorway, staring at the downpour, and wondered if Mr Wyndham would be all right in this rain.
Lifting her skirts and holding her cloak hood close to her, she ran into the house via the kitchens. It was bustling with activity since breakfast was in the midst of being prepared. Weaving her way in between the busy servants, she hurried up the stairs and to her room. Thankfully, she encountered no one along the way.
"Miss Kendall!" Betsey was horrified to see her mistress in her drowned state. "I best get the maids to fetch some hot water for a bath before you catch a chill!"
"Can you have some sent to Mr Wyndham's room? And have a footman wait for him in the front yard with an umbrella." When her lady's maid stared at her blankly, she injected as much urgency as she could muster into her voice. "Hurry!"
Betsey nodded and rang for a footman to pass on her instructions while she attempted to get out of her sodden clothes. She could barely feel her fingers even after she'd stripped her gloves off and she was starting to shiver. As Betsey helped her with the rest of her wet things, the rain grew heavier, until it was almost impossible to see the grounds from her window.
She bit her lip in worry, but she tried to reassure herself that he would be fine. He had to be.
After her bath was done and she was warm once again, she ventured to Mr Wyndham's room, a maid trailing behind her with a tray of food from the breakfast table and a pot of tea. Her heart was racing, and she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down before she knocked.
She told herself she was only nervous because she was unsure if he was well, and not because she was excited about seeing him.
When Dover opened the door, she blinked in surprise. "Oh. Good morning, my lord. My apologies. I didn't think...that is to say...I think I may have the wrong room."
He waved her apology away. "Good morning, Miss Kendall. Did you have the hot water sent up to Philip's room just now?"
"Yes, I did. And I've some food and hot tea for him since he wasn't at breakfast."
He peered around her to see the maid and he stepped back to allow her to bring in the tray. "Thank you for thinking of that." Since she wasn't invited in, Adelaide barely restrained herself from stepping into the room.
"Yes, well, I hope he is well, despite getting caught in the rain."
He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "Yes, about that." He waited until the maid had departed before he continued. "How did you know he was caught in the rain and would need a hot bath?"
"I..." She pressed her lips together. "Are we going to have this conversation out here in the corridor, my lord?"
"Yes, for we have to protect your delicate sensibilities, Miss Kendall. Philip's still in the bath."
Images of naked statues sprung to mind before she could stop herself. "Oh. Right. Yes, of course." She cleared her throat. "Is he...I mean...I best not be disturbing you. Or him. Good morning, my lord." She bobbed in her place before hurrying away.
"Who was that?"
Christopher turned to look over his shoulder at his valet fussing with Philip's morning coat. "Miss Kendall." He closed the door and strode over to where the tray was placed and picked up a piece of bread.
"Oh. What did she want?"
He shrugged, popping the bread into his mouth. "She didn't say. What she did admit to was having the hot water brought in for you because she knew you were caught in the rain." His offhanded tone was calculated to elicit a response from his brother, which — as he'd expected — it did.
"I'd need to thank her for that."
"However, she could not say why." He lounged in the settee as Philip wandered over to the tray and poured himself a cup of tea.
"She must have seen me as I was coming in from my morning walk."
"And how was your walk?"
"Pleasant." Philip blew on the top before taking a bracing sip. He silently thanked Miss Kendall's foresight as the heat chased away the chill inside.
"You should have called me along."
"I went out the moment the sun rose."
"Eager, were we?"
"Sleep eluded me."
"Again?" His brother's frown flustered him. He didn't think he'd ever get used to Christopher's worry. "Have they been happening very frequently lately?"
"No more than usual." He lied through his teeth. At his brother's raised brow, he tried to appear guileless. "They come and go. I'm not particularly worried about them." When his brother nodded, he let out the breath he'd been holding in.
"Should you need a bit of...womanly distraction, I'm certain Kendall will be able to direct you to the nearest place to find a bit of flesh for some slap and tickle."
It was disconcerting to have this sort of conversation with his brother, but he knew that Christopher was only worried about him. "Yes, I'll be sure to ask him should the need arise." He slathered some butter and jam on his toast, and bit into it. While he knew a physical release would help, he found he wasn't all that eager for any random warm body. He only wanted one, but she couldn't be had, not for all the coin in the world.
If he was going to have her, he would need to pay with it for the one thing he couldn't afford. His heart.
He shoved the thought out of his mind. Dwelling on it would only serve to highlight his lack. Directing his attention back to his brother, he said, "Speaking of Kendall, he'd like to meet you. To discuss about raising some matters in the House of Lords. At your convenience, of course."
Christopher nodded. "Maybe after the end of the house party."
"Certainly. I will inform him."
*~*~*~
The afternoons were always a lazy time for everyone. The men were either in the billiards room or were off fishing or hunting, and the women were in the drawing room.
Adelaide sat with Frederica on a chaise longue in one corner of the room, ever grateful that her friend was here to make the party more tolerable.
"I've got a puzzle I cannot solve."
The other woman was intrigued. "What about?"
"I...there's this person I'm acquainted with and-"
"You have other acquaintances? Shocking!" Adelaide bit back a smile at her friend's teasing. Her levity was one of the things she appreciated very much. It made the Season less maddening.
"Be serious. The person I'm acquainted with-"
"Does this person have a name? Sorry, I shan't interrupt you anymore," despite her words, Frederica looked anything but apologetic.
"Yes, this person is my distant cousin, Miss...Kendall." At her friend's satisfied nod, she continued. "So, my cousin, Miss Kendall, wrote to me recently to ask me a question which I find myself at a loss with which to answer."
"Is this a different cousin? Different from the one with the friend who wanted to know about Mr Wyndham?"
"Yes, a different one. She told me that there is this person she has known for half her life and who has always managed to infuriate her to no end. But he went away for a period of some time. And he is now here...I mean he has now appeared before her after many years away..."
"And?" When Frederica prompted her to continue, she realised she'd stopped narrating.
"And...she doesn't know how to feel about him."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"She..." Worrying her bottom, she gazed off into the distance, recalling the exact moment she saw her friend relishing Wyndham's company and the burst of jealousy she felt within. And the confusion after for having thus felt like that. "For so long she's ever only felt animosity towards him. However, she is now confused by other emotions that have come into play."
"Like?"
"Like...envy." She muttered the word, somehow ashamed to even speak it out, for uttering it seemed to give it life, and to acknowledge that she felt other things.
"She's envious of him?" Her friend's forehead furrowed in bewilderment.
"No, she's envious that he enjoys the company of other people."
"Other people...are these other people males or females?"
"Females."
"Well-bred ladies or the working class?"
"Does it matter?" At Frederica's nod, she answered, "well-bred ladies. As of this moment. I don't...I mean my cousin is unaware if he keeps the company of other sorts of women. She's ever only seen him talk to ladies who are like those in this room."
"I see." Frederica sipped from her teacup. "Why does your cousin hate this man?"
"He called me...I mean Miss Kendall names. Many years ago."
"And how old was your cousin at that age when she was called names by this man?" At Adelaide's puzzled look, Frederica said, "tell me. It matters."
"Eleven."
"How old was he then?"
"Sixteen."
"And now?"
"She is about my age."
"Ah. I may have an answer for...your cousin."
She leaned forward. "Pray tell."
"But first, you have to be truthful. This story isn't about your cousin, is it? It's about you." Adelaide pressed her lips together and looked away, not wanting to answer. "Refusing to give an answer indicates that there is a measure of truth in my words. And am I right to say that the man in question is Mr Wyndham?"
Her gaze flew to her friend's and she covered her mouth in shock. "How did you know?"
Frederica chortled. "I didn't, not particularly. I have eyes to go along with the fact that you have just corroborated my guess. Don't sulk." She waved a footman forward to take away her half-drunk tea so her hands were free to clasp Adelaide's one in hers. "I do have a possible answer. Or at least a possible reason for whatever it is you're feeling."
"What is it?"
"The animosity you feel towards Mr Wyndham isn't truly that. It is to cover up your true feelings, which is that you like him." She squeezed Adelaide's hands that were unmoving, the horrified expression on her face somehow amusing to see. "You have always like him but when he hurt you with his words when you were a child, that fondness turned to anger. And you've been bearing a grudge ever since."
"No." Adelaide withdrew her hands from her friend's grip. "You're wrong. I don't have a fondness for that blackguard. He has ever only been mean to me. I haven't yet received any kindness from him."
"Haven't you?"
Adelaide hesitated. The other woman wasn't aware of what happened in the morning. "I-"
"Yes, or no?"
Her reply was meek. "Yes."
"Therefore..."
Adelaide leaned back against the longue. "You're right."
"About?"
"Everything." She closed her eyes. "I'm in such a muddle, Frederica."
"There is but a simple answer, Adelaide, and that is for you to decide if you want to forgive him or not."
Adelaide glanced at her. "Even if he doesn't apologise for his words?"
She nodded. "The forgiveness you bestow him isn't about him, but about yourself. If you refuse to let his words go, you will forever be plagued by this uncertainty and befuddlement, for two opposing emotions are warring inside you, pulling you in different directions."
"It's just that easy? Forgive him?"
She smiled ruefully. "If only forgiveness were that easy to bestow, my dear. Though if you do manage it, you will certainly be all the more better for it."
"Huh." Adelaide stared up at the ceiling, mulling her friend's words, while the latter continued with her needlework. She glanced at the embroidery her friend was working on, and admired the woman's creativity and delicate touch. "That is a pretty thing."
"It is, isn't it?"
"Is it a present?"
"Yes, for when I'm engaged to my future husband. I will need to woo him with my superior needlework and other fine accomplishments so that he might overlook my very, very modest dowry."
Adelaide laid a hand on her friend's shoulder in commiseration. "I hope you find someone suitable soon."
"As do I. If not, we can do as per what we talked over during the Season. Live together as old maids on the income of your dowry and my income from being a governess."
"Are you certain you will survive? Your penchant for turning your nose up at propriety will surely not endear you to your employers."
Frederica sniffed in mock disdain. "Miss Kendall, if I were a man, I'd call you out for besmirching my character. I'll have you know that propriety and I are good friends. Or will be soon at least. I have grand plans to be the, as my aunt likes to say, 'epitome of decorum and appropriateness'."
Adelaide giggled and shook her head at her friend's imitation of her aunt, Lady Leyland. "If you do manage it, I will eat my bonnet."
"I will bring along some salt and pepper for you. I hear it rather improves the taste of straw." The pair of them snickered behind their hands so as not to draw the attention of the other women sitting in the room.
"Good afternoon, sister, Miss Blackmore." Frederica looked up to see Mr Kendall in front of them. She nodded and returned the greeting. The air between them crackled and she looked away first. She really shouldn't play with fire any longer.
"Garrett, do you need something?"
"Yes, Mother needs you apparently. For something or other. She's in her room. I can accompany Miss Blackmore while you attend to whatever matters you need attending to."
Adelaide sighed and got up from her seat reluctantly. The speed at which the man took the vacated space would have been comical had Frederica not already resolved to keep her distance from him.
"Did Lady Healey really require Adelaide?"
"Why do you ask?"
"It sounded vague enough to be an excuse you made up."
He leaned against the side, lolling about rather indolently, like a pasha among pillows. "And why would I actually want to do that?"
"To remove your sister so you might have access to me."
"Do you wish that to be true reason for what I said, Miss Blackmore?"
"No." She got to her feet,forcing him to his as well. "I bid you a good day, Mr Kendall." Curtsying, sheleft the room before he could even react.