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Authors: Marly Mathews
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this time around, it wouldn’t do any harm, and she was traveling a good distance. It wasn’t like she was taking a ride down to Lark Hall. He could sit behind the main compartment and stay there unless she needed him to tend to the horse. She was perfectly capable of getting up into the driver’s seat and back down without any assistance, and the Gypsies hadn’t been a problem since that fateful day when Rose and she had been accosted.
Once the blackguard that was the root of the problem had died trying to drown Rose, everything in their quaint little part of Wiltshire had gone back to normal. The Gypsies had become a help, not a hindrance, and they wouldn’t let anyone hurt one of the Lovetts. Still, it would be nice to have him sitting there in case anything did go wrong. Of course, when she rode her phaeton, she normally did take a groom or two with her, because it was a little trickier alighting from a phaeton than it was to step down from a curricle!
She chuckled, as she recalled how much Rose deplored this conveyance. She abhorred it with a bloody passion, and Iris wasn’t too fond of it either. Come to think of it, none of her cousins were fond of riding with her in her curricle. The only person that had been up for it was Freddie, and he’d always let her drive. She sighed heavily, and tried to shake the cobwebs from her mind.
Happily, she sat up in her curricle, and looked at her beautifully matched pair of chestnut coloured horses. She might have been dumped by Freddie, but at least she could comfort herself with the fact that she didn’t have a hard life. She led a charmed one, and ever since she’d heard about Freddie’s hard upbringing, she’d been all the more grateful for it. Once the Tiger was seated behind her, with the reins and the whip in her hands, they were off!
She rarely drove with a horsewhip, foolishly thinking it wasn’t necessary to control her team of horses, but after what had happened with the Gypsies, she felt a little more secure having it in her hands.
Before she knew it, she had the wind blowing around her and rustling her hair. Fortunately, she wore a dependable bonnet that hardly ever let her down. She laughed as she sped toward Lark Hall. Oh, how she would love to go racing today, but she didn’t have the heart for it, yet.
The breeze rustled through the trees that lined the road down to Lark Hall, and it sounded as if they whispered to her. Before she knew it, she imagined they were chanting, Freddie, Freddie, Freddie.
She grit her teeth together, and grew heartened as the Queen Anne styled manor house came into view. It was a lovely old place, and always beckoned to her with welcoming arms. Slightly smaller than Castleton Court, it didn’t lack any finery. It was just as gilded as Castleton Court…if not more so. Her dear uncle had spared no expense turning it into a manor house that was the envy of every nobleman in the County.
It looked as if the children were playing out on the grounds, and she could just make out her uncle in the distance, sitting by the River Avon with his fishing rod and his mastiffs by his side. She laughed. The man wore a brightly ruby hued banyan today with the matching cap, and he looked rather charming. He looked like the lazy gentleman he was. Some underestimated her uncle thinking that since he led a carefree life that he was as daft as a donkey, but he wasn’t. He was one of the wittiest men she’d ever met, and had a cunning mind to go with it.
Life here had gone on as if nothing had happened, and while she almost rued them for it, she realized that she was not the center of everyone’s world. And in a strange way, it was almost reassuring to realize that no matter what happened in life, the nice set of pace, and idyllic existence of Lark Hall would never be altered.
“It’s Julia!” her cousins cried, rushing to her as she drew up to the lane. A few grooms ran to help her and she left her curricle in their capable
Once the blackguard that was the root of the problem had died trying to drown Rose, everything in their quaint little part of Wiltshire had gone back to normal. The Gypsies had become a help, not a hindrance, and they wouldn’t let anyone hurt one of the Lovetts. Still, it would be nice to have him sitting there in case anything did go wrong. Of course, when she rode her phaeton, she normally did take a groom or two with her, because it was a little trickier alighting from a phaeton than it was to step down from a curricle!
She chuckled, as she recalled how much Rose deplored this conveyance. She abhorred it with a bloody passion, and Iris wasn’t too fond of it either. Come to think of it, none of her cousins were fond of riding with her in her curricle. The only person that had been up for it was Freddie, and he’d always let her drive. She sighed heavily, and tried to shake the cobwebs from her mind.
Happily, she sat up in her curricle, and looked at her beautifully matched pair of chestnut coloured horses. She might have been dumped by Freddie, but at least she could comfort herself with the fact that she didn’t have a hard life. She led a charmed one, and ever since she’d heard about Freddie’s hard upbringing, she’d been all the more grateful for it. Once the Tiger was seated behind her, with the reins and the whip in her hands, they were off!
She rarely drove with a horsewhip, foolishly thinking it wasn’t necessary to control her team of horses, but after what had happened with the Gypsies, she felt a little more secure having it in her hands.
Before she knew it, she had the wind blowing around her and rustling her hair. Fortunately, she wore a dependable bonnet that hardly ever let her down. She laughed as she sped toward Lark Hall. Oh, how she would love to go racing today, but she didn’t have the heart for it, yet.
The breeze rustled through the trees that lined the road down to Lark Hall, and it sounded as if they whispered to her. Before she knew it, she imagined they were chanting, Freddie, Freddie, Freddie.
She grit her teeth together, and grew heartened as the Queen Anne styled manor house came into view. It was a lovely old place, and always beckoned to her with welcoming arms. Slightly smaller than Castleton Court, it didn’t lack any finery. It was just as gilded as Castleton Court…if not more so. Her dear uncle had spared no expense turning it into a manor house that was the envy of every nobleman in the County.
It looked as if the children were playing out on the grounds, and she could just make out her uncle in the distance, sitting by the River Avon with his fishing rod and his mastiffs by his side. She laughed. The man wore a brightly ruby hued banyan today with the matching cap, and he looked rather charming. He looked like the lazy gentleman he was. Some underestimated her uncle thinking that since he led a carefree life that he was as daft as a donkey, but he wasn’t. He was one of the wittiest men she’d ever met, and had a cunning mind to go with it.
Life here had gone on as if nothing had happened, and while she almost rued them for it, she realized that she was not the center of everyone’s world. And in a strange way, it was almost reassuring to realize that no matter what happened in life, the nice set of pace, and idyllic existence of Lark Hall would never be altered.
“It’s Julia!” her cousins cried, rushing to her as she drew up to the lane. A few grooms ran to help her and she left her curricle in their capable
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