Stranger at the Villa by Kingswood Mary

Author:Kingswood, Mary [Kingswood, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sutors Publishing
Published: 2021-06-12T22:00:00+00:00

18: Beside The River

Samuel sat unmoving at his desk, just as when Dr Beasley had left him. Lassitude and despair had him in their icy grip, and he waited without impatience for his world to end. He was not sure how that would manifest itself — it might be Beasley returning to ask him to leave, or it might be a note from Susannah ending their brief engagement — but one way or another, his life here in Great Maeswood was at an end.

But nothing happened. Occasionally he caught the sound of voices, or footsteps passing his door. Once the knocker sounded and Thomas answered the door. But then the door closed and Thomas went away again. Gradually the house descended into its afternoon somnolence. The fly returned, or perhaps it was another fly, bashing itself against the glass time after time, even though just six inches lower the route to freedom could be found.

Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt.

Samuel rose, and pushed the sash window a little higher. The fly buzzed momentarily, then found its way outside again.

Escape…

Impulsively, Samuel climbed over the sill, ducked under the raised sash and jumped down into a bed of small shrubs. Within moments he was hidden by taller shrubs and could make his way unseen to the gate at the bottom of the garden. And beyond that was the path to the river and freedom.

Unlike the Sunday before last — was it really such a short time ago? — when he had followed Susannah to the river after church, there was no one else on the path today. The labourers were all hard at work tending their fields or pigpens or lathes, their wives gossiping together as they spun their wool or fed their babies. The gentry were lazing under trees, sipping lemonade. He was alone. He would always be alone, he realised. His dream of a quiet country practice, of riding about to far-flung farms and mills, with a wife and a cluster of children waiting to welcome him home each evening, was gone, the flames of his hopes doused by the cold rain of history. What would he do now? What could he do? Nothing… for there was nowhere he could go that was out of reach of Sir James Strickland and the story he told.

Samuel came to the place he sought, the little opening in the trees where he had sat watching Susannah bring the river alive with her paint brush, and a day later they had agreed to marry. The river was lower today, for there had been no rain, but it burbled cheerfully over the stones, running on to its inevitable destiny, to become one with the sea. Samuel’s destiny was just as inevitable, it seemed. He had fallen into a dark pit, and no effort of his was sufficient to enable him to climb out again.

He was resigned. There was nothing to be done about it, so he would do nothing. He sat down, crossing his legs, and watched the river. Perhaps,

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