Page 77 of A Secret Correspondence
They separated to complete their tasks. Samuel was anxious, antsy. He could not stand in one place, but paced the cobbled road as the tired grooms located Oliver’s horses and prepared his carriage. He had explained his errand was of the utmost urgency, but they did not seem to understand what that meant.
Samuel decided to help. He jumped in, pulling the horses into position and helping situate them. After they were finished, Ridley, Ruth, and Oliver all arrived. They loaded into the carriage and Oliver’s coachman climbed onto the driver’s seat, his wig slightly askew and a yawn on his lips for having been awakened suddenly. Then they were off.
“Were you able to pull more information from the decoy?” Samuel asked.
Ridley rubbed his eyes. “Yes. He described the gent. Thick side whiskers, widely built.”
“That lines up with the man I saw carrying Marguerite.”
“Oh, Marguerite,” Ruth said quietly. Distress flashed over her face.
Ridley’s face was grim. “He also said the man had a French accent.”
“No one in Leclair’s party fits that description, though,” Samuel said.
Oliver pulled his wife closer to his side. “We do not know what their servants look like.”
“That is true.” Samuel gritted his teeth. “What shall we do when we arrive?”
“He could be dangerous,” Ridley said. “We must assume he will have her inside and the door will be locked. Can either of you pick a lock?”
Neither Samuel nor Oliver had that skill.
“Once we attempt to gain access, he will know we are there, and we’ll lose the element of surprise,” Oliver said.
Samuel’s emotion pulsed through his body, making him jittery. He could not sit still. He could hardly breathe. “I think it will not be a good idea to allow me within arm’s reach of that man,” he said quietly.
Ruth leaned across the carriage and squeezed his knee. It was too dark to see her clearly, but he could feel the weight of her stare. “You care deeply for Marguerite, do you not? I could see it in the way you watched her.”
“Yes,” he said, the word like a plea. “I have grown to love her over the last few months, but I was a foolish, blind man and did not see what was plainly in front of me.”
“Does she know now?” Ruth asked.
“Yes.” He swallowed, leaning back in the seat. “Though convincing her that I care not for her station has been a trial.”
Ridley’s laugh was a low rumble that filled the carriage. “I wish you luck, Samuel. I had great difficulty accepting the same from Eliza.”
“You stubborn tradesmen,” Samuel muttered. Though he could not smile to soften his words, he meant them in jest. “When I have removed her from the clutches of that nasty Frenchman, I will leave her with no doubts about how I feel.”
“That is the emotion you were missing when you told us of Miss Farrow, you know,” Oliver said. “It felt like something was missing, and it was this passion. You were too unmoved. I did not understand it, not when you had spent years following Ruth around with such a zest of emotion.”
“Because it was not love.” Samuel looked out the window, wishing the drive would be finished already.
“How did you end the engagement with Miss Farrow?” Ruth asked. “You must have if you are speaking this way.”
“Her mother did.” Samuel revealed the uncomfortable interview he had been forced to endure with the Farrow women andthe resulting circumstances Marguerite had found herself in. “How do I extricate her? Even if she agrees to marry me, her name will be dragged through the mud. She will lose the patronage of many, including Lady Faversham, I am sure.”
“Is that something she cares greatly for?” Oliver asked.
“I do not know. There is the other matter of my father’s debts, the prison that awaits him, and my mother’s impending homelessness.” Samuel rubbed his eyes, feeling far older than when he had awakened that morning. “I do not feel it is my responsibility to save my family estate or my father, but my mother does not deserve to suffer.”
“She will not, Sam,” Ridley said. “You know Eliza’s mother would never permit it—she would sooner invite your mother to live at Rose Manor. Mrs. Rose’s pride has undergone a great maturing since Eliza married me.”
Samuel nodded. He did not choose to spend much time with his aunt, but he knew his mother was very close to her sister-in-law. It was also true that she would be much happier in Rose Manor than with Samuel above the modiste’s shop. Mother would not like it, but it was a valid plan. He could still maintain a relationship with her once she became a grandmother, but he would not be responsible for her or his father.
Now, he needed to save his love.
The carriage pulled through the outer roads of Harewood, and Samuel’s heart began to race. “Does anyone with a level head at present have a plan? I have a feeling mine will result in more death than the situation warrants. I would rather not hang before I can marry Marguerite.”
