Read Online A Husband's Wicked Ways by Jane Feather - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jane Feather
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garden seemed unnatural. Even the birds were quiet. She jumped at a rustle behind her and twisted to look over her shoulder. A squirrel was digging in the rich soil beneath an oak tree. Nothing else.
Tentatively she called out, “Who’s there?”
There was no answer. She began to walk quickly towards the street, and its pedestrians and carriages. Her back felt exposed, as if it had a target printed on it. This irrational fear was surely explained by the events of the last day. Frederick had somehow risen from the dead, then been buried again, and it was no wonder her nerves were on edge.
Her fingers were clumsy as she fumbled with the latch on the gate, but at last she was outside the dim, green shadows of the garden and in the bright and busy street. She drew another deep, steadying breath, settled her shoulders, smoothed down her skirt with a little comforting pat, and started walking towards Holles Street. But someone was following her. She stopped, looked behind her. Plenty of people were around, all apparently going about their business. No one she recognized.
She swallowed convulsively. She was being ridiculous. What possible reason could someone have for following her, and what possible harm could anyone do her in the middle of the busy street?
A hackney carriage stood against the curb a few feet ahead of her, and instinctively she increased her pace towards it. A passenger was just getting out on the pavement side. With a murmured apology, Aurelia climbed up into the carriage as he stepped to the ground, then without thinking slid across the bench and out of the opposite door into the thronged street, narrowly avoiding a passing curricle. The jarvey stared at her sudden appearance, opened his mouth to shout something, but she was already dodging traffic as she made for the far side of the street back towards Cavendish Square. She had no idea where she was going now, only that she needed to get rid of this fearful intuitive sense of being stalked.
She found herself breathless on Henrietta Place and stopped, listening, looking around. Again, nothing sinister was to be seen, and slowly her panic faded as her heartbeat returned to something approaching its normal rhythm. What on earth had possessed her? For the life of her, Aurelia couldn’t imagine what lunatic impulse had driven her in the last few minutes. Now she was going to be late and she was facing the opposite direction from her destination.
She shook her head vigorously in an attempt to clear away the cobwebby residues of her fear and set off quickly in the right direction. Once again on Holles Street, she was walking briskly towards Hanover Square when someone stepped up beside her and a familiar voice said, “I must congratulate you, ma’am. You nearly lost me. That’s a professional trick, dodging though a carriage like that. Where did you learn it?”
Aurelia stopped dead and stared at Greville Falconer, who was smiling at her with a cool serenity that made nonsense of her panic. “You?”
“Yes, me,” he agreed with his unwavering smile. “I’msorry if I startled you, but I suddenly had the irresistible urge to see if you remembered the games you used to play as a child.”
“Games?” she repeated, aware that she sounded like a parrot. “What games? You scared me half to death. How dare you do such a thing?”
He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, and his smile became even more disarming. “Forgive me. But Frederick told me of a particular game you used to play, a kind of hide-and-seek, I can’t remember what…”
“Hunt the hare,” Aurelia said slowly, still staring at him. “One of us set off across the countryside and had to be in a certain place by a certain time, while the others hunted us.” She remembered the excitement and the trepidation of being the prey on those long-ago days. Sometimes it had felt almost real, that desperate need to evade, to hide, to trick. That was exactly what she had felt in the last
Tentatively she called out, “Who’s there?”
There was no answer. She began to walk quickly towards the street, and its pedestrians and carriages. Her back felt exposed, as if it had a target printed on it. This irrational fear was surely explained by the events of the last day. Frederick had somehow risen from the dead, then been buried again, and it was no wonder her nerves were on edge.
Her fingers were clumsy as she fumbled with the latch on the gate, but at last she was outside the dim, green shadows of the garden and in the bright and busy street. She drew another deep, steadying breath, settled her shoulders, smoothed down her skirt with a little comforting pat, and started walking towards Holles Street. But someone was following her. She stopped, looked behind her. Plenty of people were around, all apparently going about their business. No one she recognized.
She swallowed convulsively. She was being ridiculous. What possible reason could someone have for following her, and what possible harm could anyone do her in the middle of the busy street?
A hackney carriage stood against the curb a few feet ahead of her, and instinctively she increased her pace towards it. A passenger was just getting out on the pavement side. With a murmured apology, Aurelia climbed up into the carriage as he stepped to the ground, then without thinking slid across the bench and out of the opposite door into the thronged street, narrowly avoiding a passing curricle. The jarvey stared at her sudden appearance, opened his mouth to shout something, but she was already dodging traffic as she made for the far side of the street back towards Cavendish Square. She had no idea where she was going now, only that she needed to get rid of this fearful intuitive sense of being stalked.
She found herself breathless on Henrietta Place and stopped, listening, looking around. Again, nothing sinister was to be seen, and slowly her panic faded as her heartbeat returned to something approaching its normal rhythm. What on earth had possessed her? For the life of her, Aurelia couldn’t imagine what lunatic impulse had driven her in the last few minutes. Now she was going to be late and she was facing the opposite direction from her destination.
She shook her head vigorously in an attempt to clear away the cobwebby residues of her fear and set off quickly in the right direction. Once again on Holles Street, she was walking briskly towards Hanover Square when someone stepped up beside her and a familiar voice said, “I must congratulate you, ma’am. You nearly lost me. That’s a professional trick, dodging though a carriage like that. Where did you learn it?”
Aurelia stopped dead and stared at Greville Falconer, who was smiling at her with a cool serenity that made nonsense of her panic. “You?”
“Yes, me,” he agreed with his unwavering smile. “I’msorry if I startled you, but I suddenly had the irresistible urge to see if you remembered the games you used to play as a child.”
“Games?” she repeated, aware that she sounded like a parrot. “What games? You scared me half to death. How dare you do such a thing?”
He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, and his smile became even more disarming. “Forgive me. But Frederick told me of a particular game you used to play, a kind of hide-and-seek, I can’t remember what…”
“Hunt the hare,” Aurelia said slowly, still staring at him. “One of us set off across the countryside and had to be in a certain place by a certain time, while the others hunted us.” She remembered the excitement and the trepidation of being the prey on those long-ago days. Sometimes it had felt almost real, that desperate need to evade, to hide, to trick. That was exactly what she had felt in the last
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