Read Eloisa's Adventure Online
Authors: Rebecca King
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #thriller, #mystery, #historical fiction, #detective, #historical romance, #historical mystery, #romantic adventure, #historical suspence
“You are
beautiful,” Cissy corrected her. To prove her point, she tugged
Eloisa around to stand in front of the hallway mirror.
Eloisa accepted the silk shawl Cissy draped over her
shoulders with a smile of thanks and studied her reflection. If she
was honest,
she
was a little stunned at the new her. At some point over the
last four hours, her transformation had turned her from an ordinary
country-mouse, into someone even she didn’t recognise.
She had
been bathed, primped, pinned, coiffed, powdered, and dressed with
such careful precision that she daren’t breathe in case it all
turned out to be a dream. Her perfect hair had taken Cissy several
hours to pin up and had cost them both at least three burnt
fingers. The resultant cascade of coiled curls that was gathered at
the back of Eloisa’s head was the height of fashion. Not only that,
but her hair had been pinned with tiny pale pink and white roses
from out of the garden. Each time she moved, the delicate scent of
roses teased her nostrils and reminded her of home. It went some
way toward calming the tight coil of nerves that had started to
form deep in the pit of her stomach.
“It
sounds like your carriage is here,” Cissy whispered when the metal
jangle of a horse’s harness clanked outside. “Your carriage awaits,
my dear,” she declared as she pulled the front door
open.
“Oh,
heavens above,” Eloisa gasped as she stared in shock at the
resplendent carriage and four horses that awaited her.
“That’s
your transportation?” Cissy
stared in awe at the golden coat of arms on the highly polished
door of the luxurious, and very expensive, travelling
coach.
Eloisa
swallowed and watched a liveried footman jump down from the back of
the carriage. He didn’t even look at her as he dropped the padded
step and opened the door. She watched him stand to attention beside
the door. Fear warred with disbelief as she walked down the small
path to the street. Once there and stared into the plush interior
of the carriage.
“Is it
for me?” She whispered to Cissy. She almost wished that a second,
rather less audacious carriage would rumble along at any moment,
because this couldn’t possibly be meant for her – could
it?
“I am
not aware of anyone else who is going to a ball around here,” Cissy
retorted.
“Mr de
Lisle said that he would arrange the transportation, but I didn’t
expect anything like this,” Eloisa exclaimed.
“Don’t
look a gift horse in the mouth, my dear. This is a golden
opportunity to see how the other half live. Enjoy yourself,” Cissy
replied. When Eloisa made no attempt to venture near the huge
conveyance, she placed one hand in the middle of her back and
pushed her toward the open door.
“I
can’t,” Eloisa protested.
“It’s
time to go.” Cissy grunted with the effort it took to get Eloisa to
move. “Mr de Lisle is waiting for you, don’t forget.”
The
mention of her dance tutor’s name snapped Eloisa out of her daze.
She turned to her sister but what she was about to say remained
unspoken because of the arrival of Mrs Jackman, who had come out to
wave her off. She dabbed her tears away with a handkerchief and
blew her nose – loudly. The noise startled one of the horses, which
side-stepped nervously. Although the driver murmured gently to
them, the glare he gave Mrs Jackman for upsetting one of his
precious charges was less than kind. The incident only fuelled
Eloisa’s sense of disquiet, and she turned toward Cissy somewhat
panic stricken as the realisation of what she was about to do hit
home.
“I am
not an invited guest. Why has he sent this?” She gasped, suddenly
wary about the entire evening.
“Who
knows,” Cissy shrugged. “Does it matter?”
Eloisa
opened her mouth to answer but Mrs Jackman appeared at her elbow.
Oblivious to the coachman’s disgust, the old woman nodded toward
the carriage.
“Go on,
go on,” Mrs Jackman urged. “Mr de Lisle said it would be alright.
You have worked hard for this. Have the time of your
life.”
“Go on,”
Cissy urged as she looked warily up at the sky. “I have spent hours
curling that hair of yours, and will be cross with you if you get
it wet before you get there. From the look of that sky, we are
going to have some rain. You will have to dance in the ballroom
with everyone else after all.”
Satisfaction rang in Cissy’s voice but Eloisa paid no
attention to it. She nodded absently, and continued to study the
interior of the carriage without making any attempt to climb
aboard. Rain would indeed make it impossible to remain outside
while the music played through the open doors. The thought of
moving amongst the other guests and having to dance in the ballroom
alongside them made her even more nervous than she already was.
Could she go through with it after all?
“Eloisa,
hurry up,” Cissy whispered, and pushed her sister toward the
carriage a bit more.
“I can’t
do this,” Eloisa replied.
“Yes,
you can,” Cissy grunted. “In you go.”
Propelled by Cissy, Eloisa lifted her skirts and stepped into
the carriage. She had barely taken a seat before the footman had
the door closed. She slid the window down and looked at her sister.
Cissy appeared to be crying and smiling at the same time. The sight
of the tears on her sister’s cheeks made her own eyes sting a
little, but she refused to indulge herself and risk water stains
marking her dress.
“Oh no,”
she whispered when a streak of lightning suddenly lit the
sky.
“What is
it dear?” Cissy asked with a frown. She took a step back and looked
at the carriage but there didn’t appear to be anything amiss.
“What’s wrong?”
Eloisa
opened her mouth to speak but didn’t get the chance to say anything
before the carriage lurched violently into motion. She gasped in
alarm when she was slammed forcefully back into her seat. By the
time she righted herself, her house had been left far behind. She
looked outside in time to see several familiar faces of her
neighbours waving at her as she passed, but barely got the chance
to wave back at them. The coach sped through the village until,
within minutes, the last of the houses on the outskirts of the
village disappeared from sight.
She sat
back against the thickly padded cushions with a sigh and studied
her plush surroundings. It felt like she was in a dream just being
able to sit in such a carriage. From the leather straps on either
side of the seats, to the royal blue material that was lavishly
embellished with a gold coats of arms identical to that on the
door; everything was a world away from what she was used to. She
began to wonder whether this was all a dream, or a case of mistaken
identity or something.
Surely
Lord Aldwich wouldn’t have sent a carriage like this for her, would
he? She had no idea, but it was taking her to her first ever ball
anyway. It was too late to go back now.
With
nothing else to do, she sat back and studied the landscape that
rushed past the window. It felt somewhat decadent to sit in luxury
and watch the rain creep steadily closer. From the darkness of the
sky, the encroaching storm would be a bad one as well.
When the
rain increased and left droplets of her water on her arm she
reluctantly slid the panel up. The gloved hand she lifted to tug it
back up gave her a moment’s pause, mainly because it didn’t seem
like her hand. It was then that she remembered Cissy’s comment that
these had been her mother’s gloves. When had their mother ever
attended a ball? Why would their mother have such expensive gloves?
She was certain she would have remembered her parents going to a
ball while she had lived in the rectory as a child.
A frown
settled over her perfect brow as she looked the fine material of
the gloves. Now that she came to study them, they appeared to be
silk. The material was certainly finer than anything one could buy
from a local shop, or the market around Hollywell. These appeared
to have been made to order by a modiste, or an equally experienced
seamstress.
A sudden
slash of lightening lit up the sky and snapped her out of her
musings. She glanced up and lifted her brows at the ferocity of the
wind that followed the loud rumble of thunder. Suddenly the
carriage increased in speed but then slowed back down again. The
memory of the rather skittish horse that had objected to Mrs
Jackman’s sneeze came flooding back. She had to wonder if it didn’t
like thunder and lightning either.
When
nothing untoward happened, she turned her attention back to the
landscape. With nothing to do and nobody to talk to she grew bored.
A wiser person would have asked how long the journey was going to
take. She simply had no idea, and it was too late to ask
now.
“I wish
you were here, Cissy,” Eloisa murmured for want of anything else to
say, or do. “Being an elegant lady of refinement is nothing short
of lonely.”
She
jumped in alarm when another loud rumble of thunder sounded
overhead and, once again, the carriage increased its pace then
slowed back down.
When
another jagged streak of lightning broke the darkness, a gasp of
dismay escaped her. A strong gust of wind made the carriage sway so
violently that she clutched the edge of the seat and waited for the
inevitable speeding up of the horses. This time, however, the
coachman didn’t slow them down. The carriage continued to bounce
down the lane until the hedgerow on either side of them became
nothing more than a green blur. She wondered how much longer this
journey was going to take. She leaned forward to see if she could
identify anything outside that was familiar, but it was too
dark.
“Oh no,”
she whispered, when the door she beside her rattled. She frowned at
it and willed herself to remain calm as she carefully moved away.
“It’s nothing; just the wind. This conveyance is new, Eloisa, and
is made from the finest materials. Nothing could be wrong with it.
The footman just didn’t secure it properly.”
Unfortunately, even the sound of her own voice didn’t quell
her growing concern. She stared out at the darkness and didn’t have
to wait long for the next rumble of thunder. The volume of it
erased the noise of the carriage wheels for a moment. A shiver
swept over her. She drew her shawl higher over her bare shoulders,
but it was too thin to ward off the chill that brought goose bumps
to her flesh. Somehow, the wind was managing to find its way into
the carriage and the temperature within had dropped by several
degrees. Chilled, and beginning to become fearful that she would
manage to get to the ball in one piece, Eloisa rubbed her arms and
frowned at the door. Another gust of wind made it rattle even
louder and, sure enough, her skin was teased by a gentle
breeze.
“Oh,
mercy me,” she muttered when her attention was captured by a
shocking sight that lay in the valley several yards away. “What an
unfortunate looking place.”
The dark
shadow of a huge castle stood out in silent menace against the
backdrop of jagged lightning streaks that flashed across the sky.
It lit up the dark stone turrets and gothic roof with such haunting
clarity that Eloisa willed the carriage to go quicker so they could
get away from it.
“It’s
haunted, I don’t doubt,” she whispered, and turned her gaze away
from the uncomfortable sight. Although she couldn’t bring herself
to face it again, she knew it still lay within her line of sight;
like a silent beast waiting to stalk its prey. She stared down at
her gloves and willed herself not to look at it again.
“Get a
hold of yourself, Eloisa,” she said, grateful that nobody could
hear her.
She
flinched when another loud rumble of thunder rattled overhead. It
was accompanied by a loud crack of lightning that reverberated
around the carriage. To her horror, the loud squeal of a horse
sounded somewhere off in the distance. Before Eloisa could decide
whether it might be one of the animals pulling the carriage, she
was thrown forward in her seat. The conveyance then began to jolt
violently from side to side. She struggled to hold on to the edge
of the seat while the carriage dipped and swayed through the storm,
and began to pray that she would be alive by the time she got to
the ball.
“Slow
down, or we are going to get killed,” she called but doubted that
the coachman would hear her above rumbling of the carriage wheels,
and the ferocity of the storm. Outside, one of the horses squealed
again, and signalled yet another increase in the carriage’s
speed.
“Oh God,
we are going to die if we don’t get out of this storm soon,” she
moaned, and stared in horror as the door began to bang loudly.
Thankfully it didn’t open, and she managed to a little more
distance between herself and it. As far as she was concerned
though, the foot or so she moved wasn’t enough.
“Slow
down!” she screamed when the carriage began to tilt dangerously to
one side as it took a corner at a speed that was nothing short of
reckless. She began to slide across the seat, back toward the door
she was desperately trying to avoid. When she tried to grab the
strap, she found it impossible let go of the seat before she was
thrown onto the floor. When the carriage bounced into one
particularly deep rut in the road, she was tossed unceremoniously
onto the seat opposite. She crawled back to the other side of the
carriage with a huff and braced herself for the next
jolt.