entry.”
“Surely you are mistaken.” Even as Elspeth spoke the words, she knew them to be inaccurate. No one would accept her these days. For heaven’s sake, her own parents had turned her away. Still, she held out a small morsel of hope. Marbella and Elspeth were more than family, they were friends.
“It is no mistake, Your Grace,” Chadwick said, then began closing the door.
In a moment unbefitting a duchess, Elspeth pressed her hand against the door and stuck her head inside, preventing the butler from closing her out. “Marbella,” she shouted, “I have nowhere else to turn. My carriage has abandoned me, and I have no coin.”
Elspeth’s heart pounded as she waited for whatever would come next. Her mind raced with a desperation she’d never experienced before. Where would she go? How would she get there? Marbella was her last option. What would become of a castaway duchess alone on the moors? “Marbella, please,” she shouted once more.
The door slowly opened, and Elspeth breathed a premature sigh of relief. She attempted to step into the entry hall, but Chadwick blocked her path.
A moment later, Marbella stood in the doorway, her face drawn but stance firm. “I am sorry for what has befallen you, Elspeth, but you must leave at once.”
Elspeth drew back, a stab of disbelief pricking her heart. “Would you truly turn away your family? Your closest friend?”
Marbella’s eyes closed for a moment, and she swallowed hard before peering at Elspeth with steel in her gaze. “I haven’t any choice.”
“Rubbish.” Elspeth shook her head. “You know I am innocent.”
Marbella stepped closer and lowered her voice. “If it were my decision to make, I would help you. Alas, it is not. Regardless, there is little I could do to salvage you.”
“You could give me shelter. Leastwise for a few nights while I figure out where to go.” Elspeth reached for Marbella’s hand, but her cousin pulled back.
Marbella shook her head in denial. “To do so would be to sentence my husband and children to ruin. Anyone who helps you will suffer for their kindness.” She pivoted, then said over her shoulder, “You must leave now.”
The door closed, thudding against its frame in time with Elspeth’s pounding heart. She squeezed her fingers tight around the handle of her valise. There was always hope, always a way to survive and thrive. Perhaps she would be met with kindness in town. Her title might be enough to gain her shelter for a night or three.
Maybe she could barter something for coin, though she didn’t know what. An old gown? Dance lessons? Her skills were few, and her passions scant, but she would not give up. Doing so was not in her genetic makeup.
Thus she straightened her spine, pulled in a cleansing breath, and started walking. If memory served her, Blackburn laid about six miles down the road to the north. Little more than a two-hour stroll. With diligence, she could reach the town before dusk.
Elspeth set her course and marched toward the north along the rutted dirt road. She maintained a steady pace for the first hour, but by the time two hours had passed, her back ached, and her feet throbbed, causing her to slow her steps.
Every so often, she would scan the horizon, hoping to see Blackburn coming into view. Once her hopes were dashed, she would pray for a kind passer-by to stop and offer her a ride in their carriage. Unfortunately, none ever drove past. Nonetheless, she continued to look.
Bone weary and certain she had chosen the wrong direction, Elspeth sank onto a half-rotted tree trunk and plopped her valise onto the ground at her feet. She could scarcely say how much time had passed since she’d set out, nor would she venture to guess the distance she’d walked. Still, she’d traveled many hours and surely gone farther than a league’s distance, for the sun was now dropping against the horizon.
A loud crack of thunder in the distance caught her off guard, and she jumped as it cracked the air to reverberate around her. Elspeth covered her heart with her hand as she peered into the distance. A shelf of ominous dark clouds gathered off to her left and seemed to race toward her.
“Bloody perfect,” she mumbled. Then, having no other recourse, she laughed at the irony of her situation. A stormy end to a downright dreadful day. It somehow seemed fitting.
She pushed to her feet, then stopped to retrieve her valise. Blackburn may not be ahead of her,