Page 42 of The Runner
‘I see,’ she said. ‘I confess I had no knowledge of that and must apologise for the misunderstanding. Please excuse me.’ She inclined her head, wishing the ground would swallow her up and take her out of this excruciating situation, and then she gathered her skirts and fled the stables as fast as she could without running and losing all appearance of ladylike decorum.
Taylor appeared in the stable yard leading Nellie, Caroline’s missing mare, as George stood staring after her retreating back, regretting what seemed to be his unwitting knack for insulting her. He wondered why he cared so deeply what she thought of him. What strange spell did this governess hold over him, and why did she haunt his dreams?
He feared he wasn’t in control of his senses when she was around. But lord how he had missed the sight of her when he was away at court, even surrounded by an endless supply of beautiful, high-born women. He had found none of them to his taste and was no closer to finding a suitable wife, which his mother had made clear must be his highest priority. As the latest Earl Cavendish, he had a duty to perform and a noble lineage to continue. His wild desires had no place in his life, and he resolved to get a firm hold on himself. Such lustful feelings and attraction for Olivia’s governess, no matter how charming and graceful, would not do at all.
George’s fate was decided for him long ago; his future mapped out, and with a troubled heart, he made his way into the house to greet his mother and sister properly.
Fortunately, Caroline had made it to her chamber, unseen, and no one witnessed her distress. When she closed the door behind her, she removed her riding boots, ran to her bed, and threw herself upon it. And then she let the tears flow. The pent-up emotion from the past weeks and months as she had grappled with her feelings for George erupted and shook her whole body. She allowed the violent emotions to overcome her usual composure and to take their course. She knew not how long had passed, until she quieted, and her tears slowed and then ceased, leaving her face pink and wet, and her heart still sore.
Giving way to the storm of distress lent a certain cathartic release, and her spirits lifted slightly, as though renewed. She lay on her bed, clasping a piece of the green counterpane, wondering whether coming to Willow Manor had been a huge mistake and she should return home to the cottage and resign herself to living a simple life with her father. But the mere thought of leaving George and never speaking to him again, which would surely be the outcome of retiring her post, made the tears bubble in her eyes anew and her breast heave.
No, I do not have the strength to leave. Not yet, anyway. I will pull myself together and accept that I am only a governess in his eyes, and he was merely showing the kindness any gentleman would for a lady in distress.
Caroline could not bear the bleak thought of the empty days stretching out before her, turning into years, with no sight of him. Being in the same house and dreaming of him would have to be enough for her aching soul. She vowed she would force herself to leave if staying became unbearable, but as it was, he was home and darts of joy shot through her as she realised he would be present at Willow Manor every day, once again. The realisation hit her that despite all the gossip; he had returned without a wife.
How could she leave him now?
Willow Manor,York - Present Day
The dateof the grand opening was confirmed, and the press coverage booked. Kate rolled up her sleeves and was busy making the final touches to the centre. Cara was going through the motions of ticking off her portion of the to-do list, but her mind wasn’t on the job. She remembered Sylvia’s warning to be present, but she found it increasingly impossible as she grappled with her dreams and the events of Georgiana.
Will we ever be left in peace to enjoy our life?
After many conversations with Kate, she had managed to piece together an understanding of sorts of what may have happened in 1729. There were still enormous gaps in her knowledge and her mind constantly reverted to them like a tongue probing a tender tooth. After the priest hole debacle with Kate, she had avoided entering again, but the thought was never far from her mind, that she could try to time travel on demand to Georgiana to intervene if George and Caroline were in danger of resetting the timeline.
Why would I be given the chance to time travel on demand, if not to use it?
Eddie had texted her several times to ask whether she had travelled through the wormhole again, and she sensed he was disappointed at her reluctance to embrace the opportunity more enthusiastically.
She loved having Kate on their business team and enjoyed her company immensely, but they had to watch their words when she was around and avoid discussing anything that would alert her to their strange circumstances. Cara dreamt nightly of Georgiana and remembered snippets of Caroline’s life at Willow Manor at odd times of the day. She was confused because, so far, she had no reason to believe that George had been an irresponsible gambler or drinker. From what she learned, he indulged in the occasional whisky or glass ofwine with dinner, but he was no profligate drunk.
‘What’s the eighteenth-century version of me like, then?’ asked George one night when they settled into bed.
‘Funny you should ask. I was just thinking earlier about how charming he is. The description of a cad, a drunkard and a wild gambler doesn’t match, at all.’
George smiled. ‘I have to confess to being rather pleased to hear that! I didn’t like the idea of being some ungrateful, drunken wastrel. It didn’t sit well with me.’
Cara stroked his hand and ran her fingers down his arm. ‘Well, I don’t know how things took such a disastrous turn. There must be a misunderstanding because I can’t see such reckless behaviour in his character.’
‘So, what you’re saying then is that I’m just as wonderful in Georgiana as I have always been?’
She rolled her eyes.
He removed her book from her hands, pulled her further down the bed, and kissed her.
‘Pretty much, but you want to watch that gigantic head or you won’t be able to get through the door, never mind the priest hole,’ she laughed. George dropped tender kisses onto Cara’s neck.
‘I thought you were tired and getting an early night,’ she said.
‘I am… but I have a bit of energy in reserve, and I know just how to use it.’
Cara trailed her fingers across his chest and down his body until he shivered. ‘You don’t look at all tired, to me,’ she said, raising an eyebrow.
They made love until they were both spent and satisfied, and drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.
Cara slept, and the church clock struck six and she saw a heartsick and confused George in her dreams.
She stayed in bed later than usual that Saturday morning, exhausted from her restless night, feeling like she hadn’t slept at all. The dreams were becoming more urgent, and it was like she was living two lives—the busy one in the present day, and the emotionally charged one where she was Caroline.
