Page 45 of The Runner
‘Quite so,’ said the countess, eyeing her daughter fondly. ‘I am certain your father would approve of you learning the ways of society, Caroline, and it will prepare you to secure a future role once our darling Olivia marries.’
Olivia looked startled. ‘It is some years before I will marry, Mother, but even when I do, I mean to always keep Caroline at my side as my companion.’
‘Then it is agreed. I’m afraid you are not off the hook with such ease, Mistress Caroline, humble governess or no. If I am to suffer through another social whirl in the name of entertaining Olivia in my country seat and making her ready for court, then you shall not be excused either!’ George said. ‘You are, as Olivia says, her companion, so it is only fitting you should be at her side.’
A wicked smile played over his lips as he enunciated his clipped words, and Caroline had an unpleasant feeling he was teasing her.
She flushed and her cheeks burned as she tried to swallow.
Why did he taunt her so? He must see how uncomfortable she was at the prospect of a house party.
She didn’t have any answers, but suspected he found her a quaint, amusing distraction after the sophisticated circles he moved in at court. Caroline retired shortly after, pleading a headache, and returning to her chamber, desperate for solitude. She hadn’t lied; her head was pounding and the muscles in her face ached from playing her part of engaged dinner companion for what had been an exhausting two hours.
That night she dreamed of a different George and awoke abruptly and pulled herself up in bed to rest against the cold wooden headboard, the sheet coveringher chest, as the vivid images of another life flitted through her mind. The dark stillness of the midnight hour unnerved her even more, and she was tormented by the now familiar fear of the unknown.
She sat contemplating her fate, wondering what was to become of her. A wave of sickening dread swirled through her as she realised that not only did she not belong at Willow Manor, but she did not belong in Willow Wick either. She seemed not to belong in this life, or in the future life she dreamed about, which became more real with every passing night.
I am lost.
Willow Manor,York - Present Day
The grand openingwas approaching fast, and the Willow Manor crew worked every hour to meet the deadline. Cara and George did numerous interviews with the press and radio, and Kate styled new exhibits about the various Tudor features on the estate, and she had a wonderful time plundering local antique stores for pieces she thought would help set the scene.
Cara and George had a rare break alone in the city and nipped for a coffee after one of the interviews.
‘It’s a shame we don’t still have the Hampton Court interview about the Tudor Kings’ Manuscript, isn’t it? That would be fantastic publicity to highlight for the opening.’
Cara looked blank, her overworked brain tired and sluggish to respond. ‘Aye—why don’t we?’
George raised an eyebrow. ‘It was all lost in the great timeline reset.’
‘Oh yes, how could I forget? Mind you, at least we still have the manuscript.That is the jewel in the Cavendish crown and now we have a more impressive setting than your workshop for people to appreciate it.’
George referred to the dramatic events after they first met in the present day. Because of a misdirected time-travel experiment, George had disappeared. After a lot of confusion and heartache, eventually they were reunited.
Cara felt a stab of guilt about the upheaval to his life when he had lost the career that he so adored, but she reminded herself that if it hadn’t happened, the odds were that they wouldn’t be together now.
‘And let’s also not forget Kate! We wouldn’t have her if it weren’t for the great timeline reset…’
George nodded. ‘True. Life wasn’t as good without dear Kate.’
‘Talking of Kate… The priest hole is going to be a sensation. People love heroes and mysteries. And she has done a marvellous job with the exhibit. She is having an excerpt of the piece about Eddie and the priest blown up and displayed, along with some other pieces, about the reformation and fate of the catholic priests of the day. That will point people to explore the library where the family history volumes can eventually be on display too,’ said Cara.
‘A cunning plan,’ said George, taking a last swig of coffee and offering Cara his hand. ‘Shall we get back? Lots to do and all that…’
She accepted his hand, and he pulled her gently to her feet.
‘I’m still studying the Georgiana volume. I’d like to keep that back for now, if that’s okay,’ Cara said as they exited the coffee shop.
‘Of course. The Tudorville volume can be made available, and as we have found no others yet, anyway, I don’t know quite why we’re referring to them as volumes! We only have two… unless you found some in those bottomless cupboards that so intrigue you?’
‘No, I haven’t had time to look again. I wonder if the others were lost or sold over the years, as surely they would be in the library if there was a collection.’
They chit-chatted all the way home, and George’s parents called from the Caribbean to tell them they were having a wonderful time and to wish them luck with the grand opening.
The line crackled, but they could just make out George’s father’s voice. ‘I forgot to say we have some family books for you. We found them in the attic the other week. Had forgotten all about them—they’ve been up there for years.’
Cara and George looked at each other. ‘Which books, exactly?’ asked George.
