Page 18 of The Rum and The Fox

“Well, not a tyrant exactly …” he said as she tutted at him.

“Faint praise indeed, your grace.”

“Oh, do call me Ash,” he said, a pained look in his green eyes that was hard to ignore. “You can’t know how tired I get of you ‘your gracing’ me every five minutes.”

Keziah pursed her lips and considered the young duke for a moment. “Very well,” she said, even knowing it was most improper. “When we are here, I shall call you Ash, but,” she added, holding up one finger as he went to speak, “in return, you will stop apologising every time you miss the tree, and you’ll go and get yourself some spectacles so you can at least see the wretched thing!”

He was silent for a moment before holding out his hand to her. She slipped her hand in his and was a little surprised by the warmth and surety of his grasp. “Deal,” he said, beaming at her.

“Thank heavens for that.” Looking up, Keziah frowned as she noticed large, bruised-looking clouds had started to roll in, covering up the previously clear blue sky. “Oh dear,” she said, wondering if they’d make it home in time. “I think we’d better make haste.”

They piled their belongings back in the carriage and Ash harnessed the horses to the curricle with what even Keziah had to admit was great speed and skill. She had long admired his way with the horses and the effortless manner in which he handled them in harness. He really could drive to an inch, and if things were different she would have long since begged that he teach her how. As it was, she satisfied herself with watching his long, elegant hands holding the reins, and the expertise with which he guided his matched greys around a particularly narrow and winding lane.

Huddling back under the awning of the curricle, she hoped that she could make it back to the house without getting soaked through, but looking at the increasingly sombre-looking skies, she thought her chances were diminishing by the second.

“I think perhaps I should take you into town,” Ash said, as if reading her thoughts. Keziah looked around to see him watching the skies with misgiving, but she shook her head.

“No, we dare not risk it,” she said, certain that it wasn’t worth the prospect of being discovered. “If my father sees us together, he’ll know I’ve betrayed him, and then …” Keziah faltered as she considered what would happen next. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “It’s too dangerous,” she said instead of illustrating the nightmares that might await her. “I assure you, I can withstand a bit of rain. I won’t shrink, you know.”

Ash grimaced as a faint rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. “I’m afraid it will be rather more than a bit,” he said.

“Set me down here,” she said, scrambling from the curricle before he had a chance to get out and help her. “I don’t know when I can get away next,” she added, raising her voice over the sound of the wind, which was picking up, the thunder rumbling in an ever more ominous manner overhead. “I’ll send you a note.”

“Very well,” Ash replied, his expression filled with concern. “You will take care?”

She nodded at him, finding herself happy to note that there was some other person in the world other than the devoted Molly who cared at all for her happiness and well-being.

“I will. Goodbye, Ash.” She caught the fleeting glimpse of a smile at hearing her use his nickname, and then she was off and running as fast as she dared as the rain began to fall in earnest.

***

Soaked to the bone and shivering enough to rattle her teeth, Keziah forced herself to go around the longer route to the back door in the hope of avoiding her father. Hopefully, he was out wooing the unfortunate Lady Ashwicke, but he had a nasty habit of appearing when you least wanted him, an omnipotent sixth sense that she had long had cause to curse.

Her instincts were immediately set on alert when she heard the quiet sound of sobbing as she crept in through the kitchen door.

Keziah paused, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as something told her to take great care.

“Molly?” she said, her voice quiet as she stepped further into the room. The range was dying, the heat from it nothing near as hot as it should be for the coming meal, and no candles lit. Lightning flickered outside, casting the gloomy kitchen with a strange blue light that only served to make her heart beat faster. She moved further into the kitchen, closer to the scullery, hardly daring to breathe. “Molly?”

“Miss Keziah!”

The voice of her abigail rang out, plaintive and full of panic. Before Keziah could even react, a strong hand grasped her around the arm and dragged her forward into the scullery, shoving her with such force that when she was released, she stumbled and fell to the ground. In the next few seconds she registered the terrified, tear-streaked face of her maid, her arms clutching her knees to her chest as she cowered in a corner, and the face her of father, his eyes dark with fury.

“Well, daughter,” he said, his tone making her breath come fast as fear squeezed at her lungs. “I think you have something to tell me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Keziah said, knowing she must at least try and discover what he knew or suspected before she decided what to say. Before she could demand what on earth he’d done to Molly, as she could see the poor girl had a bloody nose and what looked like the beginnings of a black eye, she was hauled to her feet. As ever, she was startled by the speed with which such a large man could move, and she didn’t even see the hand that struck out at her. The blow made her ears rings, the sting of it making tears prickle at her eyes.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“I didn’t tell ‘im nought,” Molly cried as Keziah stumbled backwards, clutching at the wall to stop herself from falling.

Keziah put her hand to her cheek, pressing it against the heated skin to try and stop the burn of his attack. “I met someone,” she said, throwing the words at him in fury. If there was one thing she knew about dealing in lies, the closer you kept to the truth, the better it was. “Why should you have all the fun?” she added, sneering at him with contempt despite her terror. If he suspected her of crossing him, she feared what might become of her and Molly. There had never been much in the way of fatherly feelings from her sire, and she doubted he’d keep her around if she wasn’t at least useful to him.

“A beau, eh?” he said, and Keziah swallowed as she saw the darkling look in eyes as he moved towards her. “You couldn’t wait until I had things arranged and you could make your come out? You little slut.”

The next blow was harder and she fell in an awkward tumble, crashing onto her shoulder and crying out with the combined pain of his fist and the fall.

“He’s a good man,” she protested, knowing she had to make him believe it if she was to survive. For a moment, the image of Ash flickered into her mind and she wondered what her fate might have held in another lifetime. “He loves me.”