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I should have stopped there, apologised for my rudeness and deferred to his better judgement. But a challenge hung in his eyes and I could not resist it.
“Miss Edwards,” I motioned to his little niece, “will one day run a household of her own. If she stands any hope of not being cheated and hoodwinked by every tradesman and servant she encounters, she had better have a good grasp of her mathematics.”
“Hmmm,” he chewed that over, “I grant you, perhaps that is true.” A little smile twitched on my lips. “But I would argue, Miss Samuels, that if Miss Edwards hopes to find herself a husband one day, she would be better off steering clear of mathematics and the natural sciences. A man hardly finds such knowledge attractive in a woman.” He stared at me, and I understood the unspoken insult in those words.
Chapter 4
I was too restless to return to my room after I left the children with their parents that afternoon, so, grabbing my cloak, I headed for the door. Autumn blustered through the gardens, sweeping brittle leaves over the earth and swaying branches overhead. I hoped it would blow away the strange feelings that had settled over me. Bring some colour to my cheeks and some sense to my thoughts.
Tugging the spencer around my neck and tying my bonnet firmly on my head, I braced my face against the weather. The wind was too strong to choose the open paths, so I ducked through the pleasure garden instead, past the bare stems of rose bushes that had long since dropped their petals, and further into the dense part of the garden where the rhododendron bushes grew tall, blocking the view of the house. I quickly realised it wasn’t what I wanted. I needed open views, space, and freedom. Instead, the groaning branches packed tightly around the path left me feeling dizzy and trapped. But at least here, the weather could not batter me.
Picking up my heels, I weaved between the russet leaves, the ground slippery in places where thick moss carpeted the stone path. Twice I slipped, the soles on my old boots long since worn, but I kept walking. I had but an hour and I intended to tire myself out, fearful my unease would keep me awake that night if I were not bone-tired.
As I walked, the peculiar sensation of being followed shivered through my body. I whipped my head around, searching the path behind me, listening for the telltale bootson the ground. But the path lay empty, howling wind the only sound.
I batted away my paranoia and continued on. The light faded, and it was as if a heavy shadow fell over me. I peered over my shoulder again and again.
By now, my hands trembled, and my breath came in frightened little pants.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the ridiculous sensation. It would not budge. It had wedged itself deep in my bones. My body was convinced that someone pursued me.
The path weaved this way and that and suddenly I understood I had stumbled into the abandoned part of the garden. Overgrown and untended. I had not trodden this path before and fear settled in my stomach. Was I lost? Would I find my way out?
I stopped still, then spun around once again, although I knew there was no one there, that it was all in my mind. I threw back my head and looked up at the wild heavens.
“You are not a silly girl,” I said to no one else but the wind. “Nor a foolish one. Get a grip of yourself.”
With renewed determination, I marched onwards.
Darkness rapidly chased away the daylight. I hurried on. If I did not find my way back to the house within minutes, I would be late to collect the children and my scolding would be severe. The hedgerow curved to the right, and I followed its length, turning a corner and colliding straight into the foreboding figure of Mr. Edwards.
To my shame, I screamed, jumping backwards in alarm. Mr. Edwards, however, seemed unperturbed. Almost as if he had been expecting me.
He blocked the entire path, solid and substantial, heat radiating from his presence.
“Miss Samuels,” he said.
“I… I… I…” I spun around, stumbling back the way I’d come. My manners seemed to abandon me whenever I faced this man and yet, in that moment, I could not bring myself to care.
“Miss Samuels,” he called after me, his voice roaring over the wind. “If you hope to find your way back to the house, you are walking in the wrong direction.”
I halted. My hand rested over my thumping heart. I blew out a long puff of air. “You know the way?” I asked, not turning around to look at him.
“I do. I can show you.”
What could I do? Fumble onwards in the hope I’d stumble across the right path? Or trust this gentleman to lead me? I was not completely naïve to the dangers young men presented to a friendless woman like me. Yet, I had no desire to linger out here in the dark alone. I would take my chances.
Slowly, I nodded and came to stand next to him. How funny. I stood saved, rescued, no longer lost, yet that fear still slid through my veins, that chill of a sensation not lifting.
Mr. Edwards spoke not a word to me as he led the way through the garden, pausing several times to ensure I followed him. His boots fell heavy on the path—he was a solid man—and I knew he could not have followed me without my knowledge. And yet… and yet…
When we broke out of the bushes and onto the lawn, I picked up the skirt of my dress and scampered across the wind-flattened grass. I was late, and my reputation could not withstand tales of a tryst with a gentleman. The house had been abuzz with the Davenport scandal all weekend long—a whole family stained by one daughter’s foolish actions. I did not want to fall prey to the gossips’ tongues. I would have to pray no one had seen us.
“Thank you,” I murmured over my shoulder, racing for the house.
Chapter 5
I went about my evening duties as usual that night, bathing the children and putting them to bed, all the while stealing glances at the other servants, wondering if rumours about me already circulated. Nothing appeared untoward. Nothing but the strange sensation that all was not as it should be. Those glinting eyes, William’s picture, that walk in the garden. All this left me uncomfortable and I could not shift the sensation, no matter how many times I told myself it was all imaginary.
