Page 20 of The Runner
Images of her and George making love the previous night flashed through her mind and her skin burned at the thought of her wanton behaviour. What alarmed her even more was her longing to feel his arms around her again, as his beautiful hard body covered hers and he took her. A virgin when she retired for bed the previous night, it was surreal to awaken in the morning and know what consummation felt like.
Shewashed and dressed in haste, her linen shift sticking to her damp skin as she rushed into her plain gown, worrying all the while that she would miss breakfast and incur Cook’s wrath.
It would be all right, she reassured herself. The countess and Olivia were still abed at this hour, and George would no doubt be out riding as usual. She closed the door quietly behind her and entered the hallway, intending to dart down to the kitchen unnoticed. She meant to fit her cap onto her mane of chestnut hair as she walked, to save precious minutes, but before she could do so, it slipped from her fingers and tumbled to the ground. As she bent to retrieve it from the cold wooden floor, she heard footsteps and raised her head. Her eyes locked with George’s, who appeared unperturbed at finding her in such a dishevelled state.
‘Good day, Caroline. Are you having trouble with your cap?’ he said, an unmistakable teasing gleam in his dark eyes, as he stooped to help her. She noticed he called her Mistress Caroline when they were in company, but when he encountered her alone, he dropped the formality. Their hands brushed and a fierce current shot through her and she jumped. She could not stop a fierce blush steeling across her chest, up her pale neck and onto her cheeks.
Carolinecouldn’t hold his all-knowing gaze, so she cast her eyes downwards as if seeking her cap, wishing he hadn’t loomed at her like a shadow out of nowhere.
He handed her the cap, holding on to the garment longer than needed, before releasing it into her hand.
‘Are you all right, Caroline? You seem a little troubled. May I assist you further?’
Caroline raised her head and resolved to push through her embarrassment. ‘I’m quite all right, thank you, my lord. I must hurry as I’m late for breakfast.’ She bobbed a quick curtsy and almost ran down the corridor.
He looked after her and watched her disappear out of sight, wondering why he was so bewitched.
CHAPTER9
The Cavendish School, Willow Wick - Georgiana (1721)
Caroline huddledin the corner of the classroom in the old cottage where the children attended the village school, which was recently set up and funded by the Cavendish family.
‘Attend to your studies quietly until I return,’ Caroline’s father said when he looked up from reading a note, a stern expression on his usually amiable face. He left his usual post at the front of the classroom and hurried out to respond to the latest school emergency.
Three tall and skinny, grubby looking boys taunted Caroline and chanted, ‘Teacher’s pet, teacher’s pet’, asthey closed in and surrounded her, pulling at her petticoat, their dirty faces looming over hers as they pushed and prodded at her clothing and body.
The wiry, innocent young girl began to shake with a mixture of terror and revulsion, but she did her best to hold herself together so she wouldn’t cry. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of reducing her to tears, but she felt the emotion welling up within her and desperately tried to conjure other thoughts to distract herself.
Think of Mother reading to me on Sunday afternoons after church, turning the pages of the book slowly while I perched on her knee with one arm round her soft neck.
Caroline could still smell the comforting lavender scent of her dear mother when she recalled the maternal scene. Her father said her mother was watching over them and keeping them safe, so Caroline thought of her whenever she was scared or lonely.
Why were the boys so mean just because she was the teacher’s daughter? She’d done nothing to antagonise them other than come to school, but they seemed to think she was special.
Caroline saw the door swing open and prayed it was her father returning. He would command them to leave her alone and would restore order with one sharp look. Her shoulders hunched over further, and her chest heaved as she realised it wasn’t her father, but a tall boy with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes who entered with a swagger. She recognised him as a local boy, but she couldn’t recall his name, not being in the habit of mixing with the village children. Caroline tried to shrink into herself further as if she might become invisible in the corner, out of reach of the boys’ odious hands as they continued prodding her viciously. But alas, it was no good. They enjoyed goading her too much to stop of their own accord, and the atmosphere in the room had reached fever pitch. The onlookers, who were mostly boys, were either too scared or too weak to intervene, even though they pitied the newcomer’s plight. They knew from experience how cruel the Knight brothers could be when the fancy took them, and none of them were about to take on the three brothers who had decided to make Caroline their prey for the day.
The blue-eyed newcomer strode over to the boys and pulled them off her, one by one. ‘Leave the poor lass alone. Pick on someone your own size,’ he hissed at them, clouting one of them round the ears, and pushing the others so they lost their footing. One brother raised his fists at her blue-eyed defender, but then thought better of it and quickly backed down, and she saw the fight go out of him. Like all bullies, they didn’t do well when they received a taste of their own medicine. The boys turned away from Caroline and returned to their seats, cursing under their breath, and kicking some stones on the floor.
‘Are you all right, Mistress? I must apologise for the behaviour of my oafish brothers. There isn’t a brain between them, and they act before they think. They mean no harm, really.’
Caroline’s breathing gradually regulated, and she straightened her petticoat, scowling at the boys who were already homing in on their next victim.
‘You will have no more trouble from them. I’ll see to it,’ said her mystery saviour. Then he smiled the most charming smile she had ever beheld, and as she looked into his blue eyes, she struggled to breathe freely again. He stretched his hand out towards her, which wasn’t grubby like his brothers’ hands, and he introduced himself. ‘I’ve seen you in the village, but we’ve never met properly. ‘I’m Ralph… Ralph Knight. I’m the elder of that sorry lot you’ve been up against on your first day.’
She shook his hand, somewhat timidly, and returned his smile, grateful for his bold intervention, and intrigued by his gallant manner and breath-taking good looks. ‘I’m Caroline,’ she said.
Some of the children watching from their small hard chairs titteredat the exchange, finding the new girl’s awkwardness amusing.
‘Return to your seat, Caroline, before your father comes back and threatens to give us all a thrashing. As for you lot,’ he said, turning towards his brothers, his blue eyes flashing, ‘If I see you lay a hand on her again, I’ll skin you alive. Is that clear?’
Caroline saw it was certainly clear to everyone in the room that Ralph Knight was in charge, and his brothers wouldn’t dare cross him. She settled back in her seat, relief coursing through her, grateful to have been rescued. She thought her defender must be a little older than her. It was difficult to tell with him being so tall, and she wondered why he was at school at all. Most young people of their class were out working, as she would be too if her father wasn’t an educated man who could afford to feed her and put a roof over her head for a few more years yet.
Willow Manor,York - Present day
George and Eddiewere called away after breakfast to assist the builders and Cara stole a few quiet hours to make some final edits to her book before she would send it to her editor.
She sat in the snug in a cosy armchair, a half-empty cup of tea on the small table nearby and her manuscript open on her computer. After combing through the text for more than an hour, her eyelids began to droop, and she fought to stay awake. Several unsuccessful attempts later, and she gave into the temptation. She wouldn’t make any more progress on the book when she felt so lacklustre. A quick power nap would do her the world of good and so she set a twenty-minute alarm on her phone, pushed her computer aside and pulled the velvet blanket over her as she snuggled into the armchair. Her heavy eyelids were already closing to the hypnotic pitter-patter of gentle rain against the windowpanes, and the sound lulled her effortlessly into a deep sleep.
