Chapter 24
Tonight
Rebecca had a change of clothes. She had removed the long gown she was wearing and was in a rather short, brown, muslin gown. She had removed her petticoat because of how it might disturb her riding and had worn drawers instead, preferring the freedom they offered her. Then she picked up the old, thick cloak with a hood that had been in her wardrobe, unused since she came to the church. She placed the cloak in her right hand and walked downstairs. It was almost dark. The sun was just about sinking into the horizon, to rise the next morning.
Rebecca walked briskly and went out of the house. She hadn’t seen Miss Wendy before she left, but she couldn’t go searching for her now. Time was at a premium. Rebecca walked to the stable and released the mare with a white star shape on its forehead from its pen. She wanted a horse that could be easily seen at night. Rebecca buckled the saddle around it and led it out of the stable. She drew it to the front of the house before mounting it. After balancing herself on it, Rebecca then wore the cloak properly, tying it with a soft rope around her neck in a loose noose. She raised the hood of the cloak over her head, covering all of her face. With a lowered face, Rebecca rode at top speed out of the gate.
“Who goes there?” the man at the gate shouted.
Rebecca was certain he would have tried to stop her if she had dressed like that and was coming from outside. But he had seen her late because she had been coming from inside the grounds, and she was riding at too quick a pace for him to try to stop her.
Rebecca crouched low on the horse and bent her head to prevent the wind from throwing the cloak back and revealing her face. It was night now so she reduced her pace when she got some distance away, trusting her knowledge of the road and the senses and direction of the steed itself.
Rebecca was yet to hatch out a good plan. She had at first decided to go to the gate at the Earl’s house. She knew she would meet the guards who had let her into the funeral that day.
Those young boys seemed very nice.
Then she had decided completely against it when she remembered what Arthur had told her about his sister, how she used servants to garner information and manipulate people. The stewards at the gate might trick her into thinking they were fetching the Earl for her, meanwhile they would go and summon Lady Teresa. That was a risk she just couldn’t take.
She thought of going in through their private cemetery into their estate since they shared a fence. But she was scared that she would be spotted and an alarm would be sounded. It would be very embarrassing, and her purpose would surely be defeated.
Rebecca then decided she would ride close to the estate and hang around in the shadows, very close to its gate. From her hiding place she would see who was entering or leaving and determine who it was safe to communicate with.
Rebecca slowed her riding even more as the night grew darker and darker. She didn’t have light and didn’t want to hit any obstruction. She had been riding for about half an hour when there was a stream of light from above. Rebecca raised her gaze and saw that it was the moon.
“A full moon,” she said, grateful for the mercy of the night.
She rode harder now using the illumination moonlight provided her. About another half hour later, she saw the gate of Arthur’s estate in the distance. The full moon would not allow her to ride so close without being detected so Rebecca rode into a nearby shed instead, banking on the fact that whoever was passing would surely come past her.
More than a frustrating hour later, Rebecca was still under the shed. She had come off the horse now and with the reins in her hand’s grip, she watched the gate. Her eyes hadn’t waivered once, and she didn’t feel the lure of sleep that would surely have neared her if she was in the safety of her bedroom. Rebecca saw the gate open and squinted although it didn’t make her see more clearly.
It was only one of the stewards at the gate who walked to a nearby bush and released a stream of urine into the bush outside the estate. He started to whistle and walked back in, closing the gate behind him. Rebecca rested on her horse and continued her watch.
It was a galloping sound that alerted her. Rebecca opened her eyes and looked to the gate, searching for the approaching rider, but she saw no one. Shaking her head to clear it of the sleepiness that she felt, she tuned her ears to the sound and discovered it wasn’t coming from the gate. It was coming towards the gate, from the head of the street.
Someone is just returning home.
Rebecca didn’t know what to do. She had fallen asleep and didn’t know how long she had been waiting. It was long into the night now, and there was a very great likelihood that this was the last time the gate would be opened for anyone. She looked at the figure as it approached her.
“It is a male,” she said to herself.
It was a male rider, and therefore it couldn’t be Lady Teresa. That fact was enough for Rebecca to take the risk. She mounted her horse quickly and steadied herself, waiting for the rider to get close enough. When he got a few metres away, Rebecca burst into the opening, suddenly blocking the road the rider was to pass through. The rider was quick and put a halt to his riding, causing his horse to rear up and neigh loudly.
“Bloody dickens! What for hell’s sake is this?” the man shouted.
Rebecca had planned her interruption perfectly. It was timed enough to draw his attention and cause him to stop but far enough that the men at the gate didn’t notice. Now she hoped it would be someone who she was in favour with.
“I am sorry,” Rebecca said, “I really am. I had no choice.”
“A woman?” the person exclaimed.
Rebecca knew he had been shocked by the sudden appearance of a horse and rider. But he was now even more dismayed that it had been a female rider.
“Yes, I’m a woman. Please I need your help,” she said.
The hood to her cloak had flown off her head, and Rebecca knew he would be able to make out her face clearly. That was the risk in her plan; if he didn’t favour her, then Lady Teresa would surely hear.
“Rebecca?” the person said.
He knew her. Rebecca couldn’t tell whether that was good or bad.
“Is that you, Rebecca?” he asked again.
Rebecca exhaled loudly.
“Yes, it’s me,” she replied.
She rode her horse closer to the person. The rider was backing the moon so his face was covered by the light shadow his hair made. But on getting close enough, Rebecca recognised his face and figure instantly.
“Mr Victor!” she exclaimed.
Except if the Mr Victor she had known had changed for the worse, this was good news.
“Mr Victor, thank gosh it’s you,” she said.
She couldn’t come off her horse, but she led it closer and allowed Mr Victor to grip her hand in a tight handshake.
“What are you doing here and at this time?” Mr Victor asked.
Rebecca smiled and almost burst out laughing.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” she said.
“Try me,” Mr Victor said.
Rebecca looked back to the gate and noticed some movement. To avoid detection, she grabbed his hand and led him gently off the middle of the road, to the side where they couldn’t be easily seen. The sound of the tapping of horseshoes on the ground rang far into the night.
Rebecca then alighted and waited for Mr Victor to do the same.
“Rebecca, it has been so long. I was scared I would never see you again,” Mr Victor said.
“I came for the funeral,” Rebecca said.
“I heard,” Mr Victor replied.
He stared into her eyes, taking account of how she had changed, surely. Rebecca smiled. She always felt comfortable with Mr Victor.
“I need your help, Mr Victor. I need to speak to Arthur,” Rebecca said.
Mr Victor chuckled.
“It’s not funny,” Rebecca said gently.
“I’m laughing because I guessed right. The Earl came back home in very low spirits. He went straight to his room and had completely forgotten he was to have a meeting with the Council of Derby Masons. When I went to remind him, he was fast asleep, and I had seen him before he slept. I thought it unwise to wake him. I guessed it had been you he had gone to see,” Mr Victor said.
Rebecca didn’t like what she was hearing. She hoped Arthur hadn’t hurt himself in any way.
“Can you arrange a meeting between the two of us?” Rebecca asked.
She gripped his hands and clamped them between hers.
“Please Mr Victor,” she begged.
Mr Victor slowly released his hands from her gloved hold.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied.
“I need to see him.”
Rebecca paused because she knew the crux wasn’t in the seeing, the crux of the matter was in what she was about to say next.
“Tonight.”
“To – what? You want to see him tonight, are you hearing yourself?” Mr Victor asked.
Rebecca nodded. She had heard herself before she even spoke.
“Yes, Mr Victor, I am tired of postponing. I want him and me to finish what we have to talk about today,” she said.
“It’s night already,” Mr Victor said.
“Then tonight,” she corrected herself.
Mr Victor laughed softly. He shook his head.
“This is completely crazy,” he said to no one in particular.
He looked towards the gate for a short while before turning back to look at her.
“What do you want me to tell him?”
“Thank you, thank you,” Rebecca cried.
“You had better speak up now. This is a moment of madness, and it is usually fleeting,” Mr Victor said.
Rebecca chuckled.
“Tell him to meet me at the private cemetery, at his father’s grave,” Rebecca said.
“Till how long?” Mr Victor asked.
“I’ll wait there for not more than an hour,” Rebecca said.
“Fair enough,” Mr Victor said.
“Thank you, Mr Victor,” Rebecca said once again.
Mr Victor mounted his horse again.
“Do note that if I find him sleeping, I wouldn’t be so inclined to wake him up just for this. If he doesn’t appear in an hour’s time, I advise that you go home and come back here tomorrow. Surely by then I would have told him,” Mr Victor said.
“Fair enough,” Rebecca said, borrowing the phrase Mr Victor had used.
Inside her it wasn’t in the least fair because she was scared if she went home without seeing Arthur, she would over think her actions and fail to show up the next day. She wanted to see him tonight.
“It was nice meeting you,” Mr Victor said before he rode away.
It was nice meeting you too, Mr Victor. Thank you.
Rebecca blessed her luck and watched Mr Victor ride to the gate. It was opened for him almost immediately, and she saw him look back to her before he rode his horse in. Rebecca waited till the stewards had closed the gate and returned to their positions before she mounted her horse and rode into the road. She took the long way into the private cemetery, opening the gate which had been left unguarded. She feared that she would make too much noise if she remained on the horse.
Rebecca alighted and found a strong branch. She fastened the reins to the branch very tightly before tapping her horse by the side of the head and finding her way into the cemetery. The strands of light that trickled between the thin leaves of the trees above showed her the way. Rebecca moved on small paths and found herself feeling a bit lost at first. She then retraced her steps and found her way to the late Earl’s grave. She recognised it with the insignia of the Bexley house that was engraved on his headstone. The insignia had been coated gold and silver and reflected in the light of the moon. As Rebecca got to the grave, she heard a sound of cracking leaves behind her.
Rebecca quickly jumped into a nearby shade. She couldn’t see anyone, but she wasn’t sure Arthur could have gotten to the grave so quickly. She dipped her hand into a small pocket in the side of the cloak and removed her letter opener. She had been sceptical of bringing it along but had decided that as a woman moving in the dark, she couldn’t leave herself totally unprotected. She waited till the person got into the clearing and she could see him clearly. He was looking from side to side but she couldn’t tell who it was just yet. She needed him to come a little closer.
He did. It was Arthur. Rebecca quickly put the opener back into the pocket of her cloak. Her movement had caused a small noise that attracted Arthur’s attention. He looked into the shadows where she was and called her name softly.
“Rebecca,” he said.
Rebecca gently walked out of the shadow into the light. He smiled immediately he saw her and started towards her. Rebecca ran to meet him and jumped into his arms. She felt herself melt in the strength of his arms, and his embrace was so tight she was scared he wouldn’t want to release her from his grip. He lifted her gently but soon dropped her down.
“Rebecca,” Arthur said again.
His mouth was just in front of her, and Rebecca felt the dance of his breath against the top of her lip. Arthur was in her embrace again and didn’t look angry. Rebecca was elated. She lifted her mouth and claimed his in a kiss that was an affirmation of commitment.
He tasted like Arthur and a sprinkling of salt. His hands wrapped her and pulled her into him as if he wanted them to merge.
“Arthur,” Rebecca muttered, breaking the kiss.
“Rebecca,” Arthur replied in a voice that was hungry with want.
He dropped his mouth to her upper lip, taking control of a part of her oral orifice. Rebecca felt herself swoon as he dipped his tongue into her mouth. He was making her lose control. She couldn’t afford making the trip all the way from her estate to hide in the cemetery just to allow Arthur to distract her with his erotic activity.
She pushed him backwards.
“Arthur listen to me,” she said, lifting a hand to his face, letting him know she needed him to listen to her.
“No, you listen to me,” Arthur said.
Rebecca shook her head. She had listened to him. Now he needed to listen to her. She walked to him and used her fingers to pin his lips together.
“I listened to you earlier today, Arthie. You need to listen to me,” she said.
She saw his eyes calm down. He was ready to listen to her.
“After your sister chased me away from your house, I couldn’t go back. And barely a week later I found out I was pregnant. I told you about how I had to find solace somewhere. I found solace in the church where John showed me incredible kindness. He encouraged me and managed to convince me that life didn’t end when love did. I only survived that time because I had Miss Wendy and John, just the two of them.
John was a widower whose wife had been unable to have children. John told me she always miscarried. He came to wake me up one day, telling me he had an idea. We were to get married. Of course, I rejected it almost instantly, but when he explained the ploy, I had to agree that it wasn’t a bad one. If I got married to him immediately, when I gave birth six or seven months later, people could easily attribute fatherhood to him. And he would have the child he had never been able to have with his late wife. It would save me from incredible shame. ‘You won’t mother a bastard,’ he told me. You don’t know how true that statement rung with me.”
“I didn’t know all this,” Arthur said.
“I don’t blame you for not knowing, Arthur. What I blame you for is losing faith in me,” Rebecca said.
A cold wind blew past them, reminding Rebecca that there was still space between them. But she didn’t want to walk up to him. She wanted to see that Arthur had forgiven her and was willing to accept her. She wanted him to be the one who closed up the space.
Arthur didn’t look pained like he had earlier in her room, but his eyes were open and bright. He looked sincere.
Maybe he is drained and doesn’t have any emotion to give anymore.
“John saw it as a gift that God was giving him, a chance to be a father. I knew it would be the only chance I would have to protect myself. I had to take it. I and John never shared the same bed. Our marriage was one of shared parenthood and a strong friendship,” Rebecca said.
Arthur nodded.
He suddenly sank to his knees and raised his eyes to her.
“Rebecca,” he said, in a voice that sounded much like a wail.
“I am sorry,” he said.
“I should have had more faith. I put you in family’s way, and I wasn’t there to share the experience with you. Instead, I was over in London, festering in anger over non-existent worries. I am sorry that I was so gullible,” Arthur cried.
Rebecca was scared that the broken man that had run away from her estate would soon return so she ran to him, falling in a heap in front of him. He looked to continue to speak, but she covered his mouth with her hand.
“Please Arthur, it’s enough. All that is past now,” she said.
Arthur shook his head.
“No, you don’t understand, Rebecca,” he said, edging her hand away from his mouth.
“I am grateful to Pastor John for being a banner when you needed protection, a friend when all the world seemed to have turned against you and a father to my daughter. I wish he was here so I could truly appreciate him, but he isn’t.
“Now, I want to be a father to my daughter. She has gone long enough mistaking her heritage. I want her to be the Earl’s daughter,” Arthur said.
Rebecca wasn’t sure she was hearing correctly.
“Do you know what you are asking for, Arthur? Harriet is a female child. She has no effect on your heritage. Peers only care about male children,” Rebecca whispered.
“I’ve never been so sure of one thing in my life. I want her in my life. I want you in my life,” Arthur said.
Rebecca started to back away from Arthur. No, she wasn’t going to fall for this again. She had believed in a dream once and had been burnt. Here she was, six years after, still recuperating from the injuries sustained. She backed away some more and hooked her leg on a small vine that was high above the ground. She felt herself start to fall only to be caught mid-air by Arthur’s strong arms.
“I am serious, Rebecca,” Arthur said.
Rebecca shook her head.
“No, Arthur,” she whispered and saw as Arthur slowly lowered his mouth to hers.
No, Arthur, please don’t hurt me this time. I might not survive.
She could only think these thoughts. Her mouth had been captured in an enrapturing kiss that took charge of her. She was with Arthur. And despite all the travails of the years past, she, in his arms, felt safer than anywhere else in the world.