Page 43 of Scars of a Passionate Revenge
“I am just a little tired,” Alice said softly. “Perhaps it is all just a little bit too much excitement for me. I shall be better in the morning, after a good night’s sleep.”
Clara nodded and Alice was relieved that her friend allowed her to leave the room without any further protests.
A little later, she was settled in her room, preparing to go to bed, when she was surprised to hear a gentle knock at the door. It could not be Clara, surely? She would be immersed in whatever after dinner activities were going on downstairs.
She opened the door a little tentatively and was surprised to see one of the maids standing outside, looking rather anxious.
“A note for you, Miss,” she whispered, then handed Alice a folded piece of paper, looked around a little furtively, dropped a curtsy, and walked quickly away along the corridor.
Alice went back into her room and closed the door, then unfolded that paper.
I know it is a risk, but I want to keep my promise and show you the stars. Meet me in the gardens? If you go out of the side gate by the kitchens, no one will see you — B.
He had added a scrawled postscript:Do not worry about the maid. She has received a bag of coins for her silence, and she will distract the cook so you can go outside without being seen.
She allowed herself a secret smile. He really had thought of everything, to ensure that they could spend time together without her being compromised.
She gathered a robe around her shoulders, swallowing down her nerves, and pulled her boots on over her bare feet. She had a feeling that what was about to happen this evening would change the course of her life forever, and as she left the room and made her way quietly downstairs, she knew that she was ready to take the leap.
When she emerged into the gardens, she saw him waiting for her in the shadows. He was carrying a bag, slung over his shoulder.
“We must walk a little deeper into the woods,” he whispered, taking her hand. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
She looked at him in the moonlight as they began to walk away from the house. “Of course I trust you, Benedict,” she replied, and she knew that she had never uttered a truer word in all her life.
They walked and walked, going deeper into the woods. Alice lost her sense of direction entirely; she realized that she would not be able to find her way back to the house alone, but she thought that she would probably not have to.
“It is just a little further,” Benedict said, and sure enough, just a few feet further ahead, the woodland opened up into a large clearing.
Alice looked up and gasped. The sky was clear and full of stars. She had never imagined that they would have such a good view of the sky from the middle of the woods.
Benedict opened up his bag and pulled out a blanket, then threw it down on the ground. “Are you warm enough?” he asked her.
She nodded. “It is a warm night,” she replied, and sat down on the blanket, waiting for him to join her. She felt a thrum of anticipation going through her body. She knew that tonight was about more than just looking at the stars.
But as he reached into the bag and drew out a telescope, she gasped in delight. “Where did you find that? I have read all about them, but I have never seen one in real life.”
He laughed. “Do not tell Lord Hutington, but I borrowed it from his study. I will return it in the morning, before it is missed.”
He handed it to her and showed her how to adjust the view.
“It’s heavy!” she giggled.
He sat behind her and helped her to hold it up, and before long, she was
looking at the constellations and he was helping her to name them.
“Do you see, there, the zig zag formation, shaped a little like the letter W?” he asked.
She looked through the telescope, shivering a little as his hand brushed against hers. “I can see it, yes. It is Cassio… cassia—” She broke off, struggling to get her tongue around the word.
He laughed, and she felt his chest vibrate behind her as he did so. “You always struggled with that word when we were young, too!”
She dropped her hands from the telescope and turned to him in shock. “You have never spoken of anything from our childhood before, Benedict,” she whispered. “Are your memories beginning to come back?”
***
Benedict realized too late what he had said. His heart leapt in his chest. The lies that he was being forced to tell, day after day, were not becoming any easier. In fact, as he looked at Alice’s frank and honest face, gazing up at him in the moonlight, he felt his heart clench.
