The Garden of Forgotten Wishes - Trisha Ashley Page 0,135
confirms when the rose garden was created. Shall I read the rest of it?’
‘Go on,’ I urged, fascinated, and he set off again, forefinger moving along under the closely-written words.
After a while, Ned looked up. ‘This all sounds like a Victorian melodrama, doesn’t it? The jolly squire, the younger son … But is she ever going to get to the point where she elopes, before my throat silts up with paper dust?’
‘I’ll make some more coffee, shall I?’ I suggested. ‘Then you can finish reading it. There can’t be much more.’
‘OK,’ he agreed. ‘And you’re right, there’s only a couple more pages to go …’
Lizzie
This fairly happy existence continued until the year I was to turn sixteen. Susanna was a year older and I began to dream of accompanying her to London as her lady’s maid when she had her Season. While I secretly cherished romantic thoughts of her brother Neville, I knew very well that nothing would come of them, but hoped that perhaps one day, I might meet and marry a man of my own station in life, while in the service of my mistress …
But these modest hopes were to be shattered, for one Sunday my father informed me that as soon as I had turned sixteen, I was to be married to Mr Hodgekins, Minister of the Thorstane meeting house! He was not only older than Father and ill-favoured, but a harsh, disagreeable man of whom I went in fear, like all the women in his congregation. He had recently buried his second wife and I had secretly thought she must have been pleased to escape him, even by death.
Nothing I could say would sway his decision and his anger was terrible when, in my distress, I let slip some hint of my hope to accompany Susanna to London. He said the marriage would take place immediately upon my attaining my sixteenth year and once the deed was done, Mr Lordly-Grace could have no say in my future.
I was thrown into great despair by this and did not know which way to turn, until it occurred to me that if Mr Lordly-Grace were to learn of my father’s plans for my disposal before the marriage could take place, he might very well intervene – for after all, I had been trained up as a maid in his house and Miss Susanna would be extremely upset should she have to do without me.
Next morning Master Neville, who was now an officer in the army and had been home on leave, was to return to his regiment, garrisoned near York. This would normally have caused me to weep into my pillow, but my present predicament was all I could think of, and I resolved to appeal to Mr Lordly-Grace to intervene with my father, as soon as he left the breakfast table for his study next morning, as was his habit.
But I was to discover that I was most grievously mistaken in my hope that he would have any desire to help me.
32
Flight
Ned laid down the sheet of paper and picked up the next. ‘I think we can work out why Lizzie ran off with one of the sons, if it was her only hope of escaping marriage to a man she loathed,’ he said.
‘It certainly doesn’t sound as if this Mr Lordly-Grace was prepared to help her, so I don’t suppose she had any other option,’ I agreed. ‘I’m dying to know the rest now, and how she ended up married to your ancestor, instead of Neville – and whether the true story is the same as the version in Elf’s book!’
‘She’s going to be really miffed if it isn’t.’ He pushed the glasses back up his nose again. ‘Last lap: here goes.’
In my distress and agony of spirit, I ran straight out of the front door of the house, which stood open and must have passed the chaise that was to take Neville on the first part of his journey to rejoin his regiment, for as if in a dream – or a nightmare – I heard him call my name in a surprised voice.
But I did not – could not – stop. Without conscious thought, my feet took me down to the bridge over the river, and I only stopped when I had reached the highest point and was looking down over the low stone parapet into the cold, churning depths of the Devil’s Cauldron so far below.