A New Season
Chapter One
Closing the door behind her Adelaide Willoughby placed the small box of cleaned and reset jewellery inside her reticule. Turning, she looked back at the elegant display of necklaces and bracelets in Gatward’s window and around her at the Hitchin market place, wondering where she would be the next time her jewellery needed cleaning. After all, she had been in Hertfordshire only since the death of her papa, while recovering at her eldest brother’s home in Ickleford from the death of both her parents in little over a year.
Loving and affectionate though Adam Willoughby and his family were, in the quiet of her mind she had still railed at her father for leaving her. It hadn’t helped in the slightest when people had shaken their heads, murmuring that he couldn’t live without her mother. Well, what about her? Her heart had cried. A late baby, her parents had been all she’d had, her much older brothers and sisters all married and settled in different parts of the country.
She should be happy, she told herself, it wasn’t every young woman who was plucked from her home to spend a season in London. The sudden advent on her brother’s doorstep only a month before of their aunt, Lady Drusilla Chetwynd, had brought with it the realisation that her grief at losing a beloved father had been all that had then stayed his eldest sister’s hand. Thinking about the unexpected visitor as she made her way back to the Sun Inn where her carriage and maid, awaited her, her mind slipped away from today to happier times, when she’d had her jewellery cleaned prior to visiting friends or relatives with her papa.
As a result, the sudden commotion behind her took a while to filter through the absentmindedness clouding her mind. The sound was strange enough however, to eventually penetrate her consciousness, bringing her head around toward it. In the second she saw the horse, white rings of terror surrounding his eyes, its rider wrenching violently at the reins, she was scooped up and away by a pair of strong arms and plastered firmly against a strong, warm chest.
Heart beating rapidly, both in shock at her near miss, and her suddenly close proximity to a gentleman as striking as any she had ever seen, she stared into his face. As she watched, he smiled and the hint of a depression in his left cheek became a deep cleft, bringing the irrational desire to trace it with the tips of her fingers. Feeling heat cross her cheeks at such improper thoughts, she pulled against his hold and, once he had determined the danger was past, the gentleman released her. Dismissing as fanciful an impression of loss, she shook her head and stepped back.
Arms wrapped around her, breathing a little ragged from the sudden exertion of his instinctive rescue, he looked down into eyes darkened by shock to a deep green. Feeling her body tremble, he had immediately released her.
Adelaide expressed her gratitude, her voice somewhat breathless. “I’m afraid my mind was other-where sir. Whatever happened?”
His smile returned, “Silly young idiot lost control of his horse.”
A glance at the retreating pair and he continued, “seems to have it under control again thank goodness. Are you quite recovered ma’am?”
She smiled into his concerned face, her smile wide and friendly. Although by now a half step away, the clean, masculine, soapy smell of him easily obliterated any other in her nostrils and did nothing to lessen the beat of her racing heart.
The gentleman looked around at the already dispersing crowd, then returned his attention to her, asked “Your maid ma’am?” as though expecting Rose to pop up out of the ground.
Adelaide’s colour, already heightened as a result of her near miss, deepened still further remembering her maid’s disapproval of her decision to visit the jewellers on her own.
“But Gatward’s is only across the road Rose and I can tell you’re all tired out after walking around the shops with me all the morning. Just you sit there in the shade for a few moments, I’m only picking my package up after all, not doing any more shopping.”
Dismissing discomfort, after all she was no longer a young debutante needing to watch every step, she looked him straight in the eye.
“She’s waiting for me across the street sir,” gesturing toward the Sun Inn while attempting to slip past him. Directing a quick glance toward the other side of the road, he forestalled her by bending his arm to accommodate her hand.
“Allow me to escort you ma’am, I’m heading in that direction myself.”
Having admitted to her lack of escort she could not, without calling the gentleman’s veracity in question, cast doubt upon his statement and so in deep, though concealed embarrassment, she placed her hand on his sleeve and allowed him to lead her through the traffic on the roadway and toward the Inn.
Arrived at the doorway she saw Rose, chatting with one of the ostlers, cast a narrow eyed glance from her to her escort and prayed the maid would keep her peace. A prayer destined to remain unanswered, of course. A quick dismissive word to the ostler and Rose turned to her mistress, arms folded, face forbidding.
“Well Miss Adelaide?”
She bent a lowering glance upon Adelaide’s erstwhile rescuer who, Adelaide saw from the corner of her eye, struggled to contain a quirk of his lips from developing into a smile. He turned to her, a humorous plea in his grey eyes.
“I’m sorry Rose. I didn’t mean to take so long, but Mr Gatward was telling me of his last visit to London, which delayed me a little, then this gentleman kindly rescued me from injury beneath the hooves of a runaway horse, and insisted upon escorting me back to you in case I should succumb to a faint.”
She felt his tremor as he contained a laugh, sent a minatory glance in his direction. Further explanation proved unnecessary when Rose hurried forward all suspicion erased, words of gratitude and concern tumbling from her lips. Patting and stroking her mistress, she murmured words of comfort and support. Nodding her thanks, Adelaide smiled and bobbed a polite curtsy as her maid ushered her toward their carriage waiting to return them both to Ickleford. Assisted inside, it seemed no time at all before John Coachman was guiding his cattle through the outskirts of the town and onto Old Hale Way and home.