Prologue
England 1786 (or a variation thereof)
Twenty Years Ago
An icy wind howled through the night, attacking the tall, fortress-like manor from all sides. Windows rattled in their hinges as the onslaught continued, not yielding but clinging tightly to the dark stone that had faced down many such attacks and not succumbed.
It was a night on which only the foolish or reckless would venture from the safety of their homes.
Or the desperate.
Pulling the heavy, black cloak more tightly around her shoulders, Ellen Cartwright, Countess of Radcliff, stood in the large kitchen located in the back of the monstrous building and gazed down at the sleeping child in her arms.
Lost in her dreams, her daughter smiled as Ellen brushed a gentle hand over the little girl’s forehead, her golden locks slightly swaying as her mother rocked her.
Taking a deep breath, Ellen wrapped her arms more tightly around her precious girl, pulling her closer as though any moment she might slip from her arms and vanish. “My sweet, little Beth,” she mumbled into the child’s hair as her arms began to feel the two-year-old’s weight. Slowly, she forced them to relax, allowing the carrying cloak she had fashioned for the child to bear most of the burden. As her arms relaxed, the straps cut into her shoulders, and she had to brace a hand on the table beside her to keep from falling over.
The moment she leant forward and her hand touched the rough wooden surface, a jolt of pain cut through the left side of her ribcage, and for the hundredth time, Ellen prayed that her ribs were not broken…only bruised.
“Do you truly not want to wait?” her mother-in-law asked as she came walking into the empty kitchen, a dark bag in her hands as she stepped toward Ellen, deep concern in her gentle eyes. “You are not feeling well. What if you cannot hold her for long? What if−?”
“No,” Ellen interrupted, drawing in a shaky breath. “It has to be tonight. Everything’s in place.” Gritting her teeth, she straightened her back and met her mother-in-law’s eyes. “I can do it, Clementine,” she said, knowing that she had to. It was a simple as that. “I can do it.”
As a tear rolled down Clementine’s weathered face, the older woman reluctantly slung the bag over Ellen’s head and shoulder, careful not to disturb the sleeping child. Then she gazed down at her granddaughter, gently brushing a stray curl from her little face, and whispered, “Be safe, my little angel.”
“I will protect her,” Ellen said as though saying the words would make them true. Deep down, she was terrified, and yet, she needed to be strong. Fear would not serve her. Only strength would see her daughter safe.
“I know.” Nodding her head, her eyes brimming with tears, her mother-in-law gently cupped her wrinkled hand to Ellen’s cheek. “I hate to see you go,” she whispered, “but neither can I stand and watch you suffer any longer.” She hung her head. “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened. I wish…I don’t know what happened that changed him so. I wish I did.”
Ellen nodded, her own throat constricted at the thought of leaving behind the only mother she had ever known. As much as she despised her husband, his mother, next to her daughter, was the person she loved most in this world and leaving her broke her heart. “I need to go,” she said, reminding them of the inevitable. “Will you…will you see me outside?”
A soft smile came to her mother-in-law’s face. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
Pressing her lips together, Ellen forced the tears back down as she turned toward the door, her mother-in-law by her side, her arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Silently, they stepped out into the dark night, the wind tearing at their clothes, and walked around the side of the building to the stables, leaving behind the looming manor and its sleeping inhabitants.
For weeks, Ellen had planned for this night of their escape, but without her mother-in-law’s help she would never have succeeded.
Only together, they had been able to convince her husband to allow her to remain in the country when he had been called back to London for business. By then, Ellen had known that business generally referred to another night of gambling and drinking until the wee hours of the morning. However, by then, she did not care any longer.
In her mind’s eye, she still saw the pale bruises on her daughter’s little arm after her father had dragged her from his study.
Oblivious to her father’s temper, little Beth had ventured around the house after escaping her nurse’s attention and then discovered the many wonders hidden in her father’s desk.
Upon discovering her in his study, papers strewn about, some crumpled, some torn, he had been furious, his face turning red, as he yanked the crying child out into the hall.
It had been the first time his rage had been directed at his child. The first time she had felt her father’s uncontrolled temper. The first time his anger had marked her skin.
It had been in that moment that Ellen had known that she had to leave.
Alone in the country, far from her husband’s watchful eyes, she and Clementine had arranged for them to start a new life. In her bag were papers that would attest to her marriage to a fictitious man, to their daughter’s birth as well as to his untimely death. As a young widow, Ellen planned to start over and give her daughter the one thing every child needed the most−safety.
Long before Beth had fallen asleep that night, her grandmother had added a sleeping potion to the servants’ food, and by the time Ellen had sneaked downstairs to ready the horse, most of them had been sound asleep in their beds. Then she had returned to gather her things and latch her daughter to her body so that she could ride with greater ease.
Although the wind howled around them, the earth was dry as it had not rained in over a week. And yet, the sky had been heavy with dark clouds all day, promising a storm on the horizon.
The opportune moment had come.
Ellen knew it. She couldn’t hesitate now.
If she left tonight and covered sufficient ground, the hard soil would show no hoof prints that would lead others to her location. And if luck held and the storm came in a day or two, it would impede the search for her even more. After all, what she needed most was a head-start to put as much distance between herself and her husband before she could start looking for a place to begin a new life.
Leading her trusted mare from the box, Ellen turned to her mother-in-law. “Thank you for everything you’ve done,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face, and she quickly wiped them away before they fell on her daughter. “You saved us both.”
Closing her eyes, Clementine took a deep breath, then strode forward and wrapped her daughter-in-law and granddaughter in a desperate embrace. “I wish I could’ve done more. I wish you didn’t have to go.” She stepped back, her eyes brimming with tears. “But I am grateful that you’re strong enough to go. I don’t know if I could’ve done it.”
Pride swelled in Ellen’s chest giving her strength. “It is a mother’s duty to protect her child,” she said as she had so many times since making up her mind.
Her mother-in-law nodded. “It is.” Then she pulled a small envelope from her shawl and slipped it into Ellen’s bag. “To help you get started.”
Ellen’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t. I−”
“For my granddaughter,” Clementine interrupted, her eyes determined as she held Ellen’s gaze. “After all, it is also a grandmother’s right to protect her grandchild.”
“Thank you,” Ellen whispered, feeling new tears sting her eyes. Before they could spill down her face, she stepped forward, gave Clementine a quick hug and then led her mare to the mounting block. Handing the reins to her mother-in-law, she mounted the horse, careful not to wake her sleeping daughter.
“Be safe,” Clementine said over the howling wind, her hand squeezing Ellen’s as she returned the reins into her grasp. “Be safe.”
Holding her mother-in-law’s gaze for a moment longer, Ellen nodded. “I will. I promise.” Then she kicked her heels into the horse’s flanks, and a moment later, they were swallowed up by the night.
Forcing herself not to look back, Ellen guided her mare away from Beechworth Manor and across the fields, grateful for her good sense of direction as she planned to stay off the main roads as much as possible.
If everything went well, her husband would never find them.
She could only hope that her luck would hold.
For her daughter’s sake.