REMEMBRANCE (22 page)

“Oh how romantic!” somebody said.

Maria stood dumbfounded; they were actually discussing her—in the past tense. She took a glance at the painting; it was indeed a portrait of her—the same painting as the one at Whitmore. She half expected to see the face of someone else on the canvas. She looked back around the room; it was beautiful, and the fine attention to detail gave it a warm, homely feeling. It made her feel relaxed, comfortable, but why? She couldn’t remember ever being in this room.

“If they were so much in love, why didn’t they marry?” a lady from the group questioned.

“It is said that he was already betrothed to a Miss Lucy Cartland, thus preventing any union between him and Miss Austin. Not wishing to give up on their love, the couple agreed to continue their romance in secret. That is how she became his mistress.”

Maria sighed deeply; it seemed that her old frustrating habit had returned.

“But unfortunately it turned out to be an ill-fated romance, for, on the eve of Thomas Bradley’s wedding to Miss Cartland, the body of Miss Austin was found drowned in the Crystal Pool that edges the Nedgely and Whitmore grounds. It was believed that she could not live with the thought of his marriage to another, so she took her own life.”

Maria gasped, her hand to her mouth. She suddenly felt very sick. Drowned. Oh my God, I drowned!

“It was only after the wedding that Thomas Bradley got to hear of her death, and in his anguish, gave the painting to Sir John of Whitmore Manor. It was later said that Thomas was so sickened with the loss of his love, that a few days later, he too took his own life at the very same pool, with a single gunshot wound to the head.”

Maria had to sit down, as her head was spinning violently and she worried that she would pass out. She could taste the vomit in her mouth. How could this be? How could they have taken their own lives? This could not be true! She and Tom would never do that—would they? She could just make out the final words that the guide said, as everything became fuzzy, and loud ringing in her ears started to drown out everything.

“Miss Cartland, now the new Lady of Nedgely, eventually married a Mr Garth Lewis…”

The pain in her head was savage; she gripped her hands against her skull for fear that it might burst. Images flashed before her, as her vision became blurred.

“She drowned, she drowned?” the voices echoed through her head.

“Noooo!” she shouted out.

“Miss, are you ok? Misssssss?” the voices faded.

* * * * *

“M…? M, what is the matter?” Tom’s voice filtered through her screams, “M…?”

He gripped her hands to the side of her body to stop the thrashing of her limbs, pinning her to the soft mattress of his bed.

“M, my love, what is the matter?” he asked soothingly, loosening his hold as she settled.

She clung to his naked body, “Oh Tom, something dreadful is going to happen!” she sobbed.

“Shush my love; it was only a dream… shush,” he held her to him rocking her small frame for comfort.

“It was not like a dream… it felt so real… We are going to die!” she cried.

He held onto her, noticing that her skin had become damp and her body was racked with uncontrollable sobs.

“M… M… look at me?” He raised her chin, so that her tear-stained eyes locked onto his. “We are here, see… in my bedchamber; we are safe, my love.” He kissed her parted mouth very gently. “I love you Maria Austin, and as long as we love each other, nothing can harm us.”

She buried her face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“But it felt so real, Tom.”

“Shush now.”

He was concerned; he had never seen her act like this before.

They had just shared an incredible night of lovemaking. Now, sated from their love, he cradled her sweat-soaked body to his, as he tried to calm his racing heart. As always when they were together, they had explored the wonder of each other’s bodies all night, finding hidden places that would bring them both to the ecstatic heights of pleasure. She was amazing and the gentle curves of her figure aroused him just by looking at her. He had never believed that their love would be so powerful, so intoxicating. Although his body felt exhausted, he had never felt more contented than he did when he was with her. She had nuzzled her face to his chest with contentment as her limbs had relaxed against him. Kissing the top of her head, he had closed his eyes for just a second, when suddenly she had started behaving like a wild child, screaming out his name for him to save her.

Maybe they were over their heads in this affair and it was starting to take its toll on her. Had it not been a test on both of them when he had smuggled her past the servants to his private chamber, creeping around and secretly meeting whenever they could so that they could be together? She was all he had; his every waking moment was consumed by the thoughts of her and he wanted nothing and no one but her. His every action—his very breath—was taken with her in mind. He knew that he could not put a stop to their romance and neither could she. It was their destiny. Their destiny was to be together.

Why did Miss Cartland have to come between them? Why should he have to marry just because it was expected of him? Why could he not marry the woman he loved and be open about their relationship to everyone? He brought his lips to the silky softness of her hair, if only… he thought.

“Do you have a painting?” Maria’s quiet voice broke the silence.

“Painting?” he asked, a little puzzled.

Maria sat up slowly, “A painting in your sitting room.”

He smiled warmly, “I have many fine pieces. They cost me a small fortune.”

She rose from the bed, dragging the sheet to wrap around her naked frame. Tom followed her to the other room, suddenly confused. She looked lost, apprehensive. “What is it M?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

She spun around on the spot until her eyes rested on the wall above the fireplace. “It’s not here,” she whispered.

“If you want to tell me what exactly it is that you’re looking for, I might be able to help?” he offered, confused by her strange behaviour.

Yet, the look of utter frustration on her face and her increasingly cross voice told him that she hadn’t heard a word he said. “Where is it, where is the painting?”

“Calm yourself, M,” he said in a worried tone, as he moved towards her, his arms open so that he could bring her to the warmth of his chest. She went to him, but as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, she forced him away.

“Tell me where it is!” she demanded heatedly.

He had never felt so confused in his life. Her eyes flashed dangerously, as her frantic gaze took in every area of the room.

“Where am I, where is the painting of me?”

Thomas stood quite still, wondering how she knew of her portrait. He hadn’t uttered a word to anyone about it, except, of course, the artist himself. Maybe he had mentioned something?

“How did you find out?” he asked.

Her eyes widened in shock as she swung back towards him, “You have one?”

Thomas took a tentative step towards her, “It was supposed to be a surprise; I haven’t discussed it with anyone. How did you know?”

“But you have one?”

“Yes, although it is not finished yet. I have had it commissioned to hang here,” he pointed to the empty space over the fire. “It was supposed to be a portrait of you—your likeness—so that I can always have you close to me.”

“Oh my God!” she cried and collapsed to her knees.

He hankered down beside her, “What is it M?”

She turned her horrified eyes to him, “It was my dream… The painting was in my dream.”

Mr Garth Lewis pulled his horse up at the entrance to Whitmore Manor. He had sent his note over an hour ago, requesting Miss Austin’s company on a ride and he now stood before the heavy door with its dull brass hinges.

“Ah, Mr Lewis,” Sir John’s voice rang out in welcome.

“Sir John,” Mr Lewis bowed.

“What a fine day for a ride!” Sir John said, pointing to the sun that shone through the dusty windows.

“Yes, indeed, it is, Sir.”

“And I take it you have come for our Miss Austin?”

“Yes, Sir, that is if I have your permission to take the lady out for a ride?” Garth asked honourably.

“Of course, my man… I keep telling her that she needs to get out more.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Sir John had a word sent to Maria, who was apparently still in her room, and he took Mr Lewis through to the sitting room to wait for her arrival.

“A fine house you have here Sir John,” Garth made polite chit chat.

“Well thank you, Mr Lewis. I must admit, I owe it all to Maria. She has a fine eye when it comes to furnishings,” Sir John noted proudly.

“Is that so?” Garth commented as he glanced around the room with an air of mischief about him. “I believe that Miss Austin is recently returned from her finishing school in Scotland?” he enquired, just to keep the conversation going.

“Yes that is true, but I must say that six years is a long time and she was truly missed. I sometimes wonder if I did right by her there,” he replied sadly. “She was always such a rebellious child—she and that young Mr Bradley. They were always off, getting into some sort of mischief when they were younger.”

Garth’s face hid a knowing sort of smile, “Is that so?” he asked quietly.

“I know; I should have been more firm on the pair of them, but they were so very close and it was all harmless fun at the time.”

Garth was suddenly interested in Miss Austin’s past; he needed to know more.

“And what of their relationship now?” he asked the very solemn looking Sir John.

“And now…,” Sir John started.

He didn’t have time to finish because at that moment Maria entered the room, dressed in a very stunning green riding outfit.

“Ah, Maria, my dear!” Sir John exclaimed.

Garth was transfixed by the woman before him. She was surely something to behold.

“Miss Austin,” he came to say, taking her hand in his and bringing his lips to the back of it.

“Mr Lewis,” she replied, a little embarrassed.

Garth felt a little annoyed that she had entered at that point, as he desperately wanted to know what Sir John was about to say. He wanted to know everything of her relationship with Mr Bradley. He also knew that his very good friend, Alfred Grainger, had great admiration for the lady. Garth though, liked the thrill of the chase and sought to engage the lady himself. How entertaining it would be to woo the very beautiful lady of the Manor!

“Shall we go?” she asked, trying to ease her hand from his grip.

“Yes of course,” he replied, as he let her fingers slip from his.

They rode around the land that belonged to Whitmore, with her groom, Peter, riding a respectable distance behind them, as was expected on such occasions. As they rode, she noted the beautiful surroundings, pointing out all the landmarks of any consequence.

“Whitmore extends out over 200 acres and edges the boundary of Nedgely Hall,” she informed him.

“Is it part of the Nedgely estate then?” Garth asked.

“I believe that it did belong to Nedgely once; it was given as a wedding present to the Austin connection of the Bradley family. It was Mary Bradley, my grandmother, who married to Mr Luke Austin and it has since stayed a separate estate.”

“So you are connected to the Bradley family?” Now he was getting somewhere.

“Yes, Sir John and Mr Simon Austin… my father, were his sons and, on my father’s death, the estate came to my uncle.”

“So what is your connection to Mr Bradley?” he asked with interest.

“Mr Bradley,” she hesitated, “Mr Bradley and I are distant cousins,” she informed him.

“Really?”

Well now, he was even more certain of what he needed to do. Not only was Sir John wealthy, she was also connected to the VERY wealthy Lady Bradley. She was more of a catch than he thought. No wonder she had many admirers.

Having seen the look in his eyes at the mention of her family ties, she disliked this oddly arrogant gentleman even more. There was something about him that she could not quite put her finger on. What was it about this man that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end with disgust? She noted the hard lines to his face and found that he watched her with unemotional dark eyes; there was aloofness about him, and the air of cruelty. She could imagine that he would not treat his employees— or his wife, for that matter—with kindness, that is if he ever found a lady that would take him. She sensed that this man would have a purpose, albeit unlikely to be an honourable one, to anything that he did. His watchful gaze made her skin crawl.

“And here,” she tried to change the subject, “here is my favourite place of all,” she said, pointing to the Crystal Pool.

Garth noted the tranquillity of the area she was now showing him.

“Do you swim, Miss Austin?” he asked, as he took in the size and depth of the clear water before him.