Page 69 of Scandalous Nights With the Earl

The blood drained from Willa’s face. Simon St Claire had found her. He was here in Winchelsea to take her back to the courts in London and he would surely rape her on the way. With a small breath of utter fright, she fell back onto the soft mattress of the bed behind her and fainted.

The hope that had risen in Phillip was dashed as the woman returned quickly and shook her head.

‘I am sorry, sir, there is no one of that name residing here. Perhaps you might try the inn opposite the big church in the middle of the village. They cater for many guests and your friend may indeed be there.’

‘Thank you. I will be at the Royal Albion in Hastings until the morning if you do hear Mrs St Claire has been in Winchelsea, and I will pay you well for any information.’

He slipped her a gold coin to sweeten the possibility of something coming from this contact but she only smiled and nodded, watching as he mounted his horse and rode away.

That evening, back in Hastings, Phillip knew he had come to a dead end. He would leave tomorrow to make for Folkestone and hope there would be some luck, and then he would go further east to Dover. There were so many places that Willa could be, so many bays and towns and villages in this part of England. So many farms, too. He poured himself another brandy because frustration had engulfed him and because he had left this morning with so much hope it felt deflating to be back hereright where he had begun.

But he had felt close to Willa in Winchelsea. He had imagined her there in the inn by the river, watching, waiting and hoping. When he passed by tomorrow he would call in again, just to ask if perhaps the older woman had remembered anything because there had been some quick expression on her face that he was unsure about.

The brandy settled him and the food the publican had brought up was welcomed because he was tired from all his hours of riding.

Tomorrow would be easier, though, for he knew the way. Outside, the moon was bright and almost full. Phillip wondered if Willa was watching the sky, too, from her room over the river. The dream was beginning to feel like a truth to him, a way to find her, and he was glad of it.

It was dark and Willa could not settle.

The moon was nearly full tonight, a bright, wide orb in the sky. She had slept most of the day, a nightmare-filled slumber where Simon St Claire had her in his grasp and she could not get away.

When she had woken from her faint she had felt even worse than usual. The housekeeper had arrived back after a few moments with extra pillows for beneath her legs and with a tall glass of something that had made her sleep all day long until now.

‘He is gone, my dear; he will not trouble you again. He has left for Hastings.’

Willa had not wished to ask anything at all about him this morning but tonight she felt braver.

‘Did the stranger give you his name, Mrs Withers?’

‘Mr Phillip Moreland.’

Wilhelmina’s mouth fell open and she sat up, her legs dangling over the bed.

‘I have to let him know that I am here.’ She burst into tears as she said this, desperation building and hope too.

He had found her. He had come after her. She was certain Lionel’s cousin must have spread his rumours about her by now, but even if Phillip had heard about all her past problems and all her questionable decisions he had still tried to find her.

‘Mr Moreland gave me a gold coin for my trouble and asked me to get in contact with him if I remembered anything else. He said he would be at the Royal Albion there. He also said he would come by again tomorrow just in case I had more news. Is he your lover, dearie? Is he the father of your child?’

‘He is.’ Wilhelmina found a handkerchief and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Worry set in across the face of the other woman.

‘I thought he was the man you were scared of, the one you told me of when you first came here, but we can fix things up. I will have one of the boys go very early in the morning to Hastings with a note to ask Mr Moreland to call in here.’

‘Thank you.’

‘But for now you must eat something wholesome, so I have brought you a hot meal.’

Chapter Fifteen

Phillip knocked again at the door of the small Inn in Winchelsea. A note had been delivered early this morning asking him to return to the inn as soon as he was able to and he had saddled his horse immediately and left.

When the same woman he’d seen yesterday appeared, he smiled at her. ‘I was pleased to get your note. Where is Mrs St Claire?’

‘She is upstairs, sir, but she has been very ill.’

‘What is wrong with her? Has a doctor seen her?’ Panic filled Phillip. What could be wrong with Willa?

‘She did not wish for one to be called at all, but if you follow me I will take you to her.’