Mr. Trelawney's Proposal - Mary Brendan

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thirst there, of course,’ Rebecca cautioned with a smile. ‘I’ve seen all manner of creatures in the water.’

      Lucy managed a weak grin at this. She wordlessly demonstrated her agreement by catching hold of the handle of her bag.

      ‘I shall tell you a bit about Lord Ramsden, our landlord, while we rest.’ Rebecca offered conversationally. ‘He resides at Ramsden Manor in the village of Westbrook, which adjoins Graveley. The Summer House Lodge is part of his estate. A very good and kind landlord he is too,’ she praised him unreservedly, as she led the way off the main track.

      They threaded their way gingerly through creeping undergrowth. ‘Take care your gown doesn’t snag. There are some brambles concealed amongst the ferns,’ Rebecca cautioned Lucy.

      A musical sound of running water became audible. Rebecca pushed aside the last of the pliant branches that barred their way and they stood in a picturesque rough-grassed glade, a large pond situated centrally.

      A small sound of delight burst from Lucy. She immediately relinquished her side of the bag again, but before she rushed away Rebecca received an apologetic smile. Reaching the bank of the pond on fleet feet she called back, ‘Look, a toad, there on the water lilies.’

      Rebecca nodded and smiled, repressing a shudder at the sight of the enormous speckled creature. She knew all manner of wildlife took refuge in this quiet oasis. She had often sought its soothing sanctuary herself in the past when needing privacy and solitude.

      Lucy slipped her soft shoes off and Rebecca enjoyed a pleasant, relaxed moment before it dawned on her that the girl was, incredibly, intending to wade out to fetch the creature. No doubt that sort of slimy beast was preferable to the one Lucy was obliged to share a home with, Rebecca surmised with a sigh.

      ‘Lucy…come back at once,’ Rebecca admonished, threat and plea mingling in her voice as the girl eagerly hitched up her skirt and inched forward into the still green depths of the pond.

      Lucy’s high-pitched giggle was all the response Rebecca received. Anxiously watching Lucy’s painstaking progress towards the glossy flat-leaved lilies was nerve-racking. Foreboding was taking hold of her with a vengeance. The uneasiness that she had experienced earlier that day with Rupert Mayhew returned to haunt Rebecca. She was becoming certain she would have fared better without this family’s patronage. She was an accomplished tutor and took pride in what she achieved with her students, but so far Lucy’s moods had been totally unfathomable and unpredictable. At times her conduct and attitude seemed completely inappropriate. Disciplining her might prove impossible.

      Sensing danger, the toad dived into the still surface of the pond.

      ‘Come back now, Lucy,’ Rebecca ordered firmly, an icy prickling stalking her spine, as she noticed the girl’s dress dragging in the water.

      In response, Lucy ducked herself down in the water, submerging up to the shoulders. She twirled about, and gaily coaxed, ‘Come in…it’s so cool.’

      ‘Come back here this minute, Lucy,’ Rebecca bit out through clenched teeth, her heart now in her mouth. She knew the pond was quite deep towards the centre. Her worst fears were realised when Lucy suddenly shrieked and slipped backwards, thrashing her arms.

      Without further conscious thought, yet inwardly cursing, Rebecca sped to the pond and began wading, skirt gripped high about her thighs, towards the struggling girl. As she approached, Lucy surfaced, giggling. ‘See…I told you it was refreshing. It’s better than the spa at Bath. It’s better than sea bathing at Brighton. Have you swum in the sea at Brighton?’ she demanded gaily, splashing water at Rebecca’s still relatively dry figure.

      Rebecca gathered her skirts into a clenched hand. The other covered her face, clearing pond water and shielding the raging fury and utter disbelief contorting her delicate features. Had Lucy been within reach, she would have shaken her until her teeth rattled and her stupid, selfish head fell off.

      ‘Well, what have we here?’ came a sardonic male voice. ‘Water sprites? Woodland elves? A welcome diversion?’

      Chapter Two

      The ironic well-modulated voice had Rebecca swirling unsteadily around.

      Two strangers were watching their antics from the pond bank mere yards away. Rebecca felt her heart pumping painfully as she hurriedly smeared filming pond residue from her vision. Then she stared, horrified.

      One man sat astride a grey farm horse, the other was lounging comfortably against the bole of a centuries-old oak, and was the most handsome man she had ever before seen in her life. His long, thick hair appeared jet-black beneath the shading oak. His narrow mouth was curved a little with the same mocking humour that had tinged his words, for she knew instinctively that it was he who had spoken. Peat-dark eyes were heavy-lidded and fixed on her with the same intensity that she watched him. In one hand he idly held the reins of a second rather mangy-looking horse, placidly cropping the rough grass. As his lazy gaze lowered to slowly survey her drenched form, her fists abruptly opened, dropping her thigh-high skirts into the water.

      Rebecca closed her gritty, stinging eyes momentarily in utter despair. Why did disasters invariably always cluster together? Why would they never spread themselves out a bit in her life? This was too much for one day! Thank heavens five years had lapsed since she had last endured times such as this, crammed with alarm and anxiety.

      The stranger astride the horse, who had fairer colouring and looked to be younger by some years, laughed down at his broad-shouldered companion and exchanged a few quiet words. Earthy eyes skimmed to her sodden bodice and aquamarine eyes lowered there too. The thin wet cotton was almost transparent and clung to her bosom like a second skin. As her breasts hardened with shame and her nipples stung she instinctively closed screening arms about herself.

      She remembered Lucy, positioned somewhere behind her. Her pupil’s safety and well being were now her responsibility. Through the girl’s stupid recklessness they now found themselves stranded in soaked clothes that served only to display every feminine contour they were designed to cover. They were in the densest part of the wood, still a good way from home, with two complete strangers witnessing their discomfort.

      She had never seen either of them before. She would have remembered if she had. Both were memorably good looking but the powerfully built, darker man was quite ridiculously so. She was acquainted with most people in the small communities of Graveley, Westbrook and the immediate surrounding areas. These two were probably just passing through. They might be miscreants…

      The disturbing possibility possessed her abruptly, monopolising every thought. Why were they off the main track and in private woodland? Why were they dressed in finely tailored black breeches and white lawn shirts but, confusingly, in possession of horses that looked little better than tired farm hacks? She had heard fearsome gossip about young village women being mistreated by bored gentlemen out looking for diversion. Even as she thought the word, she recalled him uttering it, and her temples hammered as blood surged through her veins.

      The hideous danger in their predicament forced itself mercilessly upon her and she twisted towards Lucy, wanting to reassure the girl. The expression on her young pupil’s face was the most daunting aspect of the whole nightmare situation. Excited interest was darkening and widening Lucy’s blue eyes as she ignored Rebecca and stared at the strangers on the bank.

      ‘Who are you? Why are you trespassing?’ Rebecca demanded tremulously of the man who still relentlessly watched her. Before he could reply she swivelled away, aware of Lucy approaching her through the water. She believed the girl to be seeking her closenesss for safety, but Lucy made to glide straight past. Catching at one of Lucy’s wet arms she attempted to detain her in the pond. Should the need arise for physical protection it would be far better to be close together. Lucy impatiently slipped her arm through Rebecca’s cold, stiff fingers and swayed herself forward. As she approached dry land, her plump arms raised and the movement caused her precociously curvaceous body to be quite deliberately outlined as she slowly wrung out her dripping dark hair.

      Rebecca

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