If You Were Mine (Cavendish Mysteries 1) - Page 1

CHAPTER ONE

Isobel slowly closed the bedroom door behind her, wincing as it squeaked loudly in protest. In the silence of the midnight hour, the noise was loud enough to wake the entire household. She waited for several long moments. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest. She was certain that any moment now she would hear the heavy boots of her uncle stomping down the hallway towards her, his face mottled with rage at being disturbed at such an ungodly hour, all too ready to give her another sound thrashing for simply being alive.

Her stomach lurched with a wave of nausea at the thought of the beating she would get if she was caught outside of her room, on the darkened landing.

‘You can’t allow nerves to get the better of you now! Not with the only chance of escape possible at last, and freedom just a short, albeit nerve racking to journey across the upper hallway,’ she silently chastised herself.

She stood shrouded in inky blackness, and tried to quell the rapid thundering of her heart. With each passing moment that the midnight air remained blessedly undisturbed, her tension began to wane.

It had only been a few scant minutes since Kitty had appeared at her bedroom, yet Isobel already felt a lifetime older. Her stalwart maid had taken a considerable risk to offer Isobel the opportunity to escape the harsh cruelty of her uncle, and take control of our own future. Dear Kitty, who was now strapped, battered and bruised, to a hard wooden chair - as Isobel had been - a prisoner in the room behind her. Isobel shook her head remorsefully and considered the past few minutes, when her life had taken yet another astonishing twist.

“His manservant was boasting just this Eve’ that ye be gone in the morning to be wed and taken off his hands,” contempt laced Kitty’s voice. “He has sold you Miss, to one of his old crones if’n you please! A Bertram DeLisle, I think he said. If you refuse to go with ‘im on the morrow, you know what will happen!”

Isobel knew exactly what would happen. She shuddered against a wave of terrified revulsion. It would be the same thing that had happened every single time her uncle got into one of his rages. The bruising was deep and plenty; the cuts raw and painful. Isobel knew that Kitty would not be allowed up to tend to her battered flesh afterwards. She was very aware that lately, her uncle’s rants had become increasingly ferocious, until Isobel had begun to fear she could actually survive his next ‘lesson’.

“Please, mistress, you must leave tonight! Now! You have to do this!” Kitty pleaded in a voice that, although kept low for fear of discovery, lost none of its urgent insistence.

Isobel nodded jerkily in agreement. Her mind was unable to focus on anything apart from the wild possibilities that began to unravel before her in a confusing, and terrifying, jumble. She couldn’t absorb the import of Kitty’s outrageous suggestion. Was it really that simple? Her hands shook with a mixture of giddy elation, and sickening nerves, as she considered the enormity of what she was about to do. Could she really take the branch of freedom that was being so readily offered to her? Apart from her uncle and her Aunt Elspeth, she had only a handful of surviving family members living miles away. She felt like she had buried most, if not all, of those who were nearest and dearest to her over the course of the past few months, until there was hardly anybody left to care.

With no protector or guardian likely to come forward and challenge her uncle’s claim to guardianship, Isobel was well and truly stuck in the daily hell she had been cruelly drawn into since her brother’s death.

There had been only man, besides her brother, whom she had once considered someone she could trust. But he had unfortunately proven to be as duplicitous as her conniving uncle downstairs.

She had given her heart and body to Dominic Cavendish, Lord Havistock, oh so foolishly. Despite his initial gentlemanly restraint, he had taken everything she had innocently offered, before promptly leaving her to walk up the aisle with another woman. If the gossip was indeed accurate, he had married his new wife within days of leaving Isobel, and was already in the process of setting up his nursery!

“Damn you to hell, Dominic!” Isobel muttered, cursing her own folly.

Quickly closing off the painful memories of him, she turned her thoughts back to her current predicament. ‘There was certainly nobody else in life, other than Kitty, whom you should consider,’ Isobel thought bleakly. ‘You are well and truly on your own now, so get used to it.’

The stark reality of her situation was raw. But what shall I do? Where should I go? Trying desperately to quell the growing hysteria, Isobel took several deep breaths to try to calm herself down, and think rationally. She was suddenly so very glad for the reassuring presence of the woman before her. For the time being at least, she wasn’t completely alone in the hideous situation she was in.

“Please Miss, you have the pouch of coins Master Peter left you with?”

Isobel nodded hesitantly, and swallowed against the lump that had formed at the thought of her elder brother.

“Then you must take it. Or what’s left of it. You must leave now, since they will take you on the morrow, and I fear for your safety - your very life - should you go with them.”

Isobel closed her eyes as the mental image of the short, florid faced, elderly man popped into mind. The memory of his green eyes roving lasciviously over her the last time they had unfortunately crossed paths, was simply vile. The thought of being married to such a creature, and subjected to God knows what, left her quaking in fear.

“Miss, hurry up!” Kitty’s abrupt shake of her shoulders snapped her out of her daze.

“Oh yes, Kitty,” Isobel whispered, fighting the clawing panic that threatened to overwhelm her. “Of course, I will go now.”

Isobel watched as Kitty hurried to the linen closet and began to pull out the few scraps of clothing her uncle had allowed her to keep. Everything had been used repeatedly since her arrival at the house several weeks earlier and were soiled beyond redemption, but they were all she had.

Giving herself a stern mental shake, Isobel moved to the bed and quickly began to sift through the assembled garments. “Wait!” Isobel frowned down at the meagre pile of cloth. “I can’t take these! I have no way of carrying them. I will travel quicker if I don’t carry anything.”

Isobel deliberately blanked out the gnawing doubt that continued to grow, and defiantly sat down on the edge of the bed, tugging on her only walking boots swiftly.

“Miss, I have relatives in Coniston up in the Lakes. They will not be able to keep you for long, but they will be able to give you somewhere warm and dry to stay until you can decide what to do. You just get yourself there. However best you can.”

Isobel could hear the doubt in Kitty’s voice, but chose to remain silent.

“You tell them Kitty sent you, all will be well. Ask for Annie, she is my cousin. She works at Winheld Hall.”

“Right, Winheld Hall in Coniston,” Isobel whispered softly with a tiny shake of her head. The words swam around Isobel in a hazy fog, and she considered the enormity of the task before her. She had never even been allowed out

on her own unchaperoned before, and yet here she was discussing with her maid setting out alone in the middle of the night, with nothing more than a few coins in her pocket and a handful of clothes on her back.

“Here take these.”

Isobel looked down the leather pouch of coins thrust into her palm. “These are your life savings Kitty; I can’t take these!”

“Please Miss! When you are safe, you may get the coins back to me somehow, but first you must get out of here.” Kitty didn’t bother to inform her mistress of the rest of the manservant’s vile boasts about the exact nature of the future that lay in store for her, as the wife of a profligate gambler and lecherous beast. “Tie me up,” Kitty added, ignoring the startled gasp from the younger woman.

Isobel looked down at the torn strips of stockings Kitty was holding out to her. Although she understood that it was the only way she could ensure Kitty would not be punished for helping her, Isobel couldn’t prevent the surge of horror she felt at the thought of inflicting pain upon another person.

“If Rupert does punish you Kitty, and throws you out on your ear, you must make your own way to Coniston. I shall await you there. Do you have enough funds yourself?”

“Don’t you worry about me Miss, I can get myself there,” Kitty’s eyes shone defiantly in the darkness. “Just make sure you aren’t caught.” The stern tone of her voice clearly reminding her mistress of the consequences to them both should she get caught. She took a seat on the rickety wooden chair in the centre of the room, and waited while Isobel quickly tied the makeshift straps to Kitty’s wrists.

Tags: Rebecca King Cavendish Mysteries Historical
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