Page 29 of A Brush With Love at Brookview Hall (Noble Hearts)

This took but moments. Then they took their exit.

Julia let Cornelius leave through the door.

No need for him to crawl along a tree branch that still pierced the broken window.

The door could be opened and locked from inside, and this was just what Julia did, before creeping out through the broken window.

The smugglers would discover soon enough that someone had been in the cottage, but there was no reason to make this apparent a moment sooner than necessary.

With the door locked and matters looking—at first—to be as they had left it all, it would give them another minute or two to make their escape.

But they were not safe yet.

“Where do we go? To the great house?”

Cornelius shook his head violently, almost losing his balance in the process.

“No, anywhere but that.” The alarm in his voice was more concerning than the protestation itself.

“That way instead.” He pointed in the direction opposite to Brookview Hall, further along the cliffs.

“If we keep just inside the line of trees, we will not be spotted from the water. If they come after us… I pray they will not. The woods are not so dense it will be easy to hide, and I cannot climb. I can barely walk.”

The aftermath of the storm provided some help, however, in the form of a suitable length of broken branch that Cornelius was able to use as a cane.

With its support, he was able to limp along with little vocal complaint, and with more speed than Julia believed possible.

Perhaps the movement was easing his injuries, as sometimes happens.

They walked in silence at first, their attention entirely on their feet and on their hands, which they had clasped within moments of leaving the cottage and which they had not released since.

At first, Julia told herself that Cornelius was relying on her to keep him upright should he stumble.

But she knew that was a lie. She was holding his hand because she wanted to.

It was a nice feeling, and she would not let go for anything.

They moved through the trees, further and further from Brookview Hall with every step, one painful footfall after another, listening at every pace for the shouts of their hunters.

“You can tell me now,” Cornelius said after a while. The cottage was long out of sight; no yells or shouts had rung through the woods. There was no one in pursuit, or at least, not yet.

“Tell you? What do you wish to hear? How I found you?”

He shook his head.

“No. How you lost yourself. All those years ago, you disappeared and reinvented yourself as this prim governess, but that is not the real you. You have seen me at my worst and I have heard the worst about you, which,” he hastened to add, “I cannot believe. Rumours seldom hold to the truth. What really happened, six years ago in London?”

He knew.

Julia’s heart turned to stone, her eyes wet. But his voice did not scold, and his hand remained warm in hers, returning only gentle pressure.

This time there was no escape. She could not run off now, leaving him alone and defenceless; remaining silent would only perpetuate the story bandied about Town, which he had admitted to knowing. Hiding had helped nobody, for whatever people believed was surely worse than the truth.

“I do not judge you, Julia. I can see there is another side to that tale, which surely holds much closer to fact. Tell me.”

He tightened his grip on her hand and she squeezed back. It was time to relieve herself of this sad tale. She blinked back tears and began her account.

“My father was not young when he married my mother, and older still when I was born. My cousin George, the son of my father’s cousin, is therefore nearly twenty years older than I am.

He is the one who inherited when my beloved father died.

I was sixteen. George is not an entirely pleasant man, but at first, he was kind enough.

He was my guardian as well as the new baron, and permitted me to remain in the house I had known as my only home.

Everything went well enough at first, but things soon grew more difficult.

“One of his friends took a liking to me. I cannot say why, for I never paid the man the first inappropriate attention. John Lorwick was at least five years older than George, and not a handsome man in any way. Had he been a good person, this would not be of concern, but his character was uglier than his appearance. He was cruel, cruel to the servants and cruel to the animals, and I had heard tales about his terrible actions towards his mistresses. I did not like him at all, but my cousin did not take any account of that.”

Cornelius said nothing, but held her hand more securely, giving her encouragement through his touch, and she continued.

“Lorwick decided he wished to marry me, and my cousin agreed.

My thoughts on the matter were not canvassed at all.

Of course, I refused. There followed weeks of cajoling and threats, and still I refused.

George was my guardian and could forbid me from acting as I pleased, but he could not force me to marry a man I despised.

At last, I was given an ultimatum: marry his friend or be sent from the house, whereupon he would wash his hands of me forever.

I chose to leave. At first, I begged sanctuary with my dear friend Dorothea, which was granted and gratefully accepted.

Her family were kind, and I had known them all my life.

I thought all the trouble was behind me.

“But George and Lorwick were not satisfied. Sending me penniless from my home was not punishment enough, for I was alive and well, and seemingly happy. And, to their purposes, still not wed. About a year later, I was at a ball with Dorothea and her family. I had no notion of my cousin being invited, but he must have heard I would be in attendance. He arranged for invitations for himself and his vile friend. Somehow, they manoeuvred me into a quiet room where his friend made… unwelcome advances.”

Cornelius stumbled, all but falling into Julia’s arms. She wondered if it was from shock at her tale, or an excuse to hold her tight for a moment. That he was disturbed was unquestionable, for even through blossoming bruises, his jaw grew white, so tightly was it clenched.

“He did not… how badly…?” He cursed. “I cannot ask this of a lady.” He struggled to his feet and let Julia lead him onward.

This was no easy matter to talk of, but she forced the words to come.

“It was bad enough, and I was not wholly uninjured, but I escaped with my virginity if not my virtue. He pressed his attentions on me, forced his cruel kisses, mauled my… my body, destroyed my ballgown. Worse, my cousin had arranged for us to be discovered. There I was, beaten and shaken, half undressed and entirely unkempt, and grasped in this dreadful man’s arms, with half the ton looking on.

My humiliation was worse than the attack on my person. That was the true injury.”

Her voice began to waver. How could she talk about this? But there was power in the telling, especially to one she knew would not cast her away for her sins.

Swallowing a lump of bile, Julia made herself speak on.

“George insisted once more that I marry his friend. Every matron in the house insisted likewise, and Dorothea’s parents as well.

I had lost all respectability; I was quite ruined.

But I would not agree. I could not give myself to a man whom I did not love, but who also treated me so badly.

I refused and was sent out that very night, in my ripped gown, my flesh exposed to the world, with not even the chance to pack my trunks.

I have not spoken to Dorothea since, for all my early letters were returned unopened and I doubt she knows that they were even sent.

George wished to destroy me completely; or, perhaps in refusing his friend, I destroyed myself.

But I would rather die a pauper than live a day with that dreadful man. ”

She blinked back tears threatening her eyes and stared straight ahead at the path along which they still walked, one slow step after another. She could not look at Cornelius, no matter that he still held her hand.

“The rest, you surely know. I appealed to my uncle, my mother’s brother. No, that sounds too genteel. I walked there at midnight in tattered slippers and banged on his front door until one of the servants came to inquire and took pity on me.

There was little enough my uncle could do without risking his own good name, and that of my young cousins.

Still, he did what he could for me, and it was sufficient.

He let me use his name, sent me to school for a year under an assumed kinship, and wrote appropriate letters of recommendation.

I could not believe my fortune when I was offered this position here at Brookview.

I dare do nothing to risk it… or, I dared not.

I fear I have now crossed a line, and must confront a different future to that which I had imagined.

But it was worth it. This is my tale. It is as sad and simple as that. ”

Cornelius dropped her hand.

That was it. He had heard what he thought was the worst of it, but clearly the truth was so bad that he could not even stand to touch her.

She was soiled, utterly ruined. Beyond all hope.

She had hoped by confessing the truth, she could redeem herself somehow; it had not been her fault.

It had never been her fault. But he could not even bear to touch her hand.

Her feet stopped and tears flooded from her eyes.

Then something remarkable happened. Warm arms wrapped about her, and she was gathered into a fierce embrace. The solid beat of his heart beneath her cheek comforted her even as he poured soft words into her ear.

“Do not cry, my love,” his gentle voice urged.

“Your story is not so strange or uncommon, for all that it is lamentable. I am only grief-stricken that you are the one to suffer for it and not that evil man. You will always be safe with me. That I promise from the bottom of my heart and with all my being.”

“You… you are not disgusted by me?” she asked through the tears.

“Disgusted? Far from it. Quite the opposite. You are resilient and you shine with honour. How can I begin to understand the strength it must have taken to withstand your cousin’s cruel scheme?

To stand up and refuse to be treated as a pawn in some demonic game of chess? I admire you more than I can say.”

He caught her up in his arms once more and for a moment, they just stood there, two souls in the cold early morning air, wrapped in a mutual embrace.

“Aha! Caught you!” A voice, far too close, called out, followed by the heavy thud of running feet.

Julia leapt back in alarm as Cornelius spun about to fight their assailant, his cane brandished like a sword. To her surprise, however, instead of bellowing some war cry, he broke into a great laugh.

“Rainham, you old devil! Just the man we were coming to see. May I introduce Julia Lyddon.” He looked at her and she beamed back. “My hero.”