Page 67 of Memories Made At Midnight

“Yes, please.” Beatrice ought to be mortified about discussing something so personal, but pride had a way of evaporating when critical matters shoved themselves to the forefront. At that precise moment, her very full bladder didn’t give two figs about her delicate sensibilities.

An overly full bladder wasn’t her only discomfort. Her stomach seemed intent on gnawing through her spinal column. For all the suffering she’d endured at Uncle Cedric’s hand, she’d been well-fed.

Except for the times he’d punished her by sending her to bed without supper. Sometimes, a kind servant sneaked her a dinner roll or an apple to hold her over until morning. If her uncle had caught them, the servant would have faced immediate dismissal, which explained why, most of the time, no one dared try to help her.

In short order, Cassius dismounted, lifted her down, and set Teddy on the ground.

Almost afraid to move, lest her bottom scream in protest or her legs buckle beneath her, as they had the other night, Beatrice took a couple of tentative steps. To be sure, she was sore, and her inner thighs chafed, but the discomfort was bearable this time.

Cassius led the gelding back into the trees for privacy, and she hurried behind a fallen log. After inspecting the area to ensure no one and nothing observed her, Beatrice attended to her needs.

Once finished, she tried to brush the grime from her stained clothing. What an unkempt state to be in to meet the Duke and Duchess of Latham. She hoped Cassius’s parents were as understanding and welcoming as he’d assured Beatrice they were.

Still, arriving at a ducal estate wearing soiled and tattered garments, smelling of horse and sweat, and in dire need of a bath, wasn’t exactly the introduction to Cassius’s parents Beatrice had anticipated.

They might mistake her for a tatterdemalion—or worse—rather than an heiress.

What would they think of her, involving their son in her troubles?

Beatrice’s welcome might not be as cordial as Cassius assured her it would be.

Still, she had no choice but to continue onward.

Coming out from behind the fallen larch tree, she signaled Nala and Teddy to her side. All she needed was for one dog to chase a squirrel or rabbit and delay the journey.

Several feet away, Cassius stared at the road, visible through the forest.

Was he concerned?

Should she be too?

As if he’d been listening for her, Cassius glanced in Beatrice’s direction. His expression unreadable, he held his hand up, clearly telling her to be still.

She froze in place, fear nearly strangling her, then snapped her fingers twice; the signal for her dogs to remain immobile.

Uncle Cedric had poked fun at her for spending so much time training Nala and Teddy, but her efforts had not been for nothing. This moment was proof.

A cart, pulled by a pair of mismatched but sturdy horses, lumbered down the track toward them. Cheerful, off-key whistling carried into the serene woods where the birds had stopped singing.

In short order, a beefy man wearing humble farmer’s clothing, along with a lad of perhaps fourteen dozing beside him, trundled past. The wagon bed contained several metal milk cans that clinked and clanked against each other on the bumpy road.

Once the cart disappeared from sight, Cassius brought the gelding near the tree next to which Beatrice stood rooted.

“A local dairy farmer taking his milk to market in Kirby Lonsdale,” he explained. “My ancestral home is only about five miles from here.”

In the process of lifting Teddy into her arms, Beatrice jerked her head up. “Only five?”

That was so much better than the twenty, she’d guessed.

Relief tunneled through her veins.

This leg of her journey to freedom was nearly over.

“Aye. Mayhap a little less. We’ll cut through the woods and a couple of meadows.” Scratching his temple, Cassius grinned as he maneuvered the horse into place for her to climb on. “I recognized where I was several miles back and took a diagonal route through the woodlands. My father’s land borders this road for the next several miles.”

Miles?

Just how big was the ducal estate?