Read Online Shades of the Past by Sandra Heath - Free Book Online Page B

otherwise you’d have passed it drawed up by the big elm tree two ‘undred yards back. Its blinds was pulled down tight, but someone were inside, I heard ‘em.”
    Laura’s ears pricked. A carriage with lowered blinds? Could it be the one she’d noticed yesterday? Oh, surely not. She could understand seeing it at Tyburn, Oxford, and even passing the King’s Head, for those places were all on the same main route to the west and Wales, but this would be different. There wasn’t anything main about these little lanes, so if it were indeed the same carriage, she’d have to wonder if it was deliberately following her.
    The coachman glanced back along the lane, and then shrugged. “Probably some young blood on a tryst with another man’s wife.”
    “No doubt.” Ha’penny Jack shifted his load. “What you doing ‘ere, anyway? Stuck here like sommat useless tied to a stick.”
    “I’m reduced to carting around a prospective chaperone for Miss Deveril.” The coachman’s resentment was very plain indeed, and he didn’t really care if Laura heard or not. A lady of means like Lady Tangwood was a very superior sort of chaperone, and warranted respect. A nonentity of a widow reduced to working for her living did not, even if she did look the image of the late Lady Deveril!
    Ha’penny Jack grunted. “Oh, well, can’t be ‘elped. I’ll be on my way afore I seizes up under this lot. You comin’ to the fair?”
    “Yes. Sir Blair’s given everyone the day off as usual.”
    “See you then.” The showman began to trudge away.
    The coachman called after him. “Reckon you’ll be an attraction at the prize ring this year, when you and the butler punches each other’s lights out for Dolly’s favors!”
    Ha’penny Jack was scornful. “I’ll make minced meat of ‘im!”
    “That’ll be the day!”
    The sound of a church bell drifted over the valley, and the coachman stood up to peer over the hedge at her. “Reckon we’d best be going. Sir Blair don’t like to be kept waiting.”
    She returned. “I gather there’s a fair soon?” As she reached the gate she wondered suddenly if she would return to the future, but she didn’t, and was still her Regency self as she came to the carriage.
    The coachman nodded. “Yes, the Mercury Fair at Great Deveril.” He answered, but hardly courteously.
    “Mercury?”
    He shrugged. “Sommat to do with the god of trade and gain. His day’s the twenty-fifth of May, and the fair’s ‘eld ‘round then every year. It’s a big occasion and folks come from miles. Come on now, we’ve got to get going.” He gathered the reins, making no attempt to get down and open the carriage door for her.
    She glanced along the lane in case she could see the carriage the traveling showman had mentioned. The lay of the land was against her, but she could see the top of the elm tree. She climbed into her seat and closed the door behind her. The whip cracked and the vehicle jolted forward.
    The lanes were the same ones that existed in the future, and in bad weather couldn’t be much more than mud tracks, but they were passable enough now, and it wasn’t long before she recognized the lodge ahead. Just before the carriage turned through the gates, she looked to where the modern signpost to the canal tunnel would stand. There was nothing there now, but she could see the narrow way that led down the hillside. In times to come it would be overhung with trees, but here in 1818, its banks were exposed and grassy.
    The drive still swept down between rhododendrons, but when the grounds opened out, there was no holly avenue, just close-trimmed lawns beyond which stood the original great house, its golden stone gleaming in the May sunshine. What was going to happen to it, she wondered? Would fire destroy all but a third? Or had some other fate befallen it?
    She remained in her seat as the butler emerged from the house. He was in his late thirties, of medium height and stocky build, with blue eyes and