The Ton's Most Notorious Rake. Sarah Mallory

The Ton's Most Notorious Rake - Sarah Mallory


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Joseph and Mr Flemington were absent.

      The residents of Prospect House were amongst the last to arrive. They were all most soberly dressed, with the ladies heavily veiled, and they were accompanied by Moses and little Billy Matthews, scrubbed and dressed in his best coat. The whole party slipped into their usual seats at the back of the church and, although they quickly settled down for the service, Molly found it difficult to concentrate. She rebuked herself for her inattention and told herself there was no reason at all why Sir Gerald or his friends should have occasion to look back at Fleur and her companions, but she did not relax until the service was over and the Newlands party had gone out without sparing a glance for the rest of the congregation. She hovered at the church door and watched them exchange a few words with Edwin and only when they had climbed into their carriages and driven away did she turn her attention to her friends.

      ‘Everything is well at the house,’ Nancy told her, in answer to Molly’s anxious enquiry. ‘We have had no unwelcome visitors and Moses has found us a guard dog.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘He brought home the prettiest little terrier! Not a mastiff, I know, but he has a good bark, which is what we need, and Moses tells me he will be useful for keeping down the rats in the barn.’

      Molly laughed. ‘He sounds perfect.’

      ‘Why not come back with us and you can see him for yourself?’

      ‘I would love to do so, but I am helping with the Sunday school today, and tomorrow I have promised to call on Mrs Calder at Raikes Farm. Edwin tells me she has not been well and asked me to visit her. No matter, I shall see this new addition on Tuesday, when I come over to help you prepare everything for the market. If the weather is as fine as today, I shall walk.’

      ‘And you will bring your maid?’

      ‘Of course. I intend that Cissy shall go everywhere with me from now on, whenever her other duties allow. Having recommended that you must all be circumspect, I must lead by example!’

      * * *

      Alas for such good intentions. On Monday, when Molly went below stairs to collect the basket of food for Raikes Farm, she found that the upper housemaid, who also acted as her dresser, was in tears, having received word that her mother was very ill.

      ‘Then you must go to her immediately,’ Molly decided, quickly revising her plans. ‘Gibson shall take you in the gig. He is waiting for me at the door now.’

      ‘Ah, no, ma’am, I couldn’t possibly,’ sniffed Cissy, mopping her eyes with her apron. ‘You and the master is too good to me already, taking me in, and me without a reputation—’

      ‘Nonsense,’ said Molly briskly, handing Cissy her own handkerchief and shepherding her up the stairs. ‘Reverend Frayne and I know very well that you were too young to be blamed for what happened to you. But I hope you know better now than to walk out into the gloaming alone with a young man.’

      ‘Aye, I do, ma’am, and it won’t ever happen again, I promise you. I am much wiser now.’ She managed a watery smile. ‘And the baby is doing very well.’

      ‘You have no regrets about sending him to live with your sister and her family?’

      ‘Oh, no, because I wants to become a lady’s maid and I can’t do that if I have my baby with me, so I was very happy when my sister offered to have him. No, he is very happy where he is. They quite dotes on him.’

      ‘I am very glad of it,’ said Molly, ‘and you are proving to be a very good dresser, Cissy. As soon as we can find another housemaid to take your place, I shall promote you to my personal maid.’

      She cut short Cissy’s effusive thanks and instructed her to run up and fetch her cloak. ‘I will tell Gibson there is a change of plans and he is to take you to your mother. And you must remain with her at least until tomorrow. Promise me.’

      ‘Very well, miss, if you say so, but what will you do about delivering your basket?’

      ‘Mr Frayne shall drive me to Raikes Farm in the carriage.’

      Having seen the maid off, Molly went in search of her brother, only for him to tell her that he had made other arrangements.

      ‘My old college professor is on his way to Ripon and is breaking his journey at Compton Magna tonight,’ he said. ‘He has invited me to join him at the White Hart for dinner.’

      His face clouded when she explained she had sent her maid off in the gig and he immediately suggested he could cancel his engagement, but Molly stopped him.

      ‘No, indeed you must not do that,’ she said, smiling. ‘You will be passing the turning to Raikes Farm on your way, so if you set off a little earlier you can drop me off there. Now, please do not argue, Edwin. It promises to be a fine afternoon for me to walk back. I do not intend to stay above an hour and it is barely two miles from here cross-country, so I shall be back in good time for dinner.’

      The arrangements having been agreed, Molly collected her basket and set off with her brother in the carriage. The inclement weather had not let up for the past week, but at last the skies had lifted and although the sun only showed through intermittently, there was every promise of a fine afternoon and evening.

      Molly’s visit to Raikes Farm was much appreciated. Mrs Calder was the wife of a hard-working farmer and the young family had been struggling to cope while their mother was ill. They fell with delight upon the basket of food, with its bread and pies and cakes. Molly soon ascertained that Mrs Calder was on the mend and after spending an hour talking to them all, she set off to follow the footpath back to Compton Parva.

      The sun was peeping in and out of the clouds, but there had been so much rain over the past week that the footpaths were thick with mud. Molly did not mind. She had taken the precaution of wearing serviceable boots and she would be able to change as soon as she reached the vicarage, so she strode away from the farm, determined to enjoy her walk.

      The highway to Compton Parva followed a circuitous route, but the footpath was much more direct, ascending between enclosed pastures until it joined the stony cart track running along the ridge. A solidly built drystone wall ran along one side of the track and separated the farmland from the moors that stretched upwards to the skyline. To avoid the thick, glutinous mud that covered large sections of the lane which had not yet dried out, she walked along a narrow grassy strip at the side.

      The view from here was unrivalled. Looking across the valley and the road that ran through Compton Parva, she could see the lane leading to Prospect House, while directly ahead was the dark green mass of Newlands’s Home Wood. At this distance she would see immediately if anyone was riding out from the Park, but all was quiet and she knew she would shortly be cutting back down towards the town, so she had little fear of meeting anyone while she was alone and unprotected. She gave a little sigh. Before Sir Gerald and his rakish friends had appeared, she had never worried about walking unaccompanied in the town or in the surrounding countryside. Now she was aware of the constant danger.

      As if summoned by her thoughts, her eye caught a movement on the lane ahead of her. Someone was approaching from the opposite direction. The gentle curve of the lane meant she could not see the figure clearly above the walls, but she could make out it was a man, carrying a long staff. Most likely a farmer, checking his stock. A shepherd, perhaps, looking for a stray sheep.

      Distracted by trying to peer into the distance, Molly missed her footing. Her boot slipped off the uneven grassy bank, and she lost her balance. Her left foot flew forward, but landed awkwardly amongst the stones of the rutted lane and she gasped as the impact jarred her ankle. The next moment she found herself measuring her length along the ground.

      Bruised and shaken, Molly pushed herself up, feeling very cross. Her skirts and spencer were filthy and she suspected that her face, too, had not escaped the mud. As she tried to stand a sharp pain shot through her ankle and she fell back. She took a couple of moments to compose herself, then struggled to her feet, but one tentative step was enough to tell her that the pain was too severe for her to walk unaided.

      She hobbled to the wall and leaned against it,


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