Free In the Garden of Disgrace by Cynthia Wicklund

arrives,
I’m sure it will seem quite a distance to me,” Adrian said wryly.
“I like to fish but I’m better at it when I’m awake.”
    Simon chuckled, a chuckle that sounded
suspiciously gleeful. “Best make that three o’clock, my friend.
When Jilly says early that is exactly what she means.”
     
    *****
     
     
CHAPTER 4
     
     
    The clock on the mantle chiming four in the
morning brought Jillian awake. She moaned aloud and, grabbing the
covers, pulled them over her head. What had made her tell Lord
Wickham she would be leaving early? Actually, what she had wanted
was to leave in advance of his arrival however early that might be.
She had decided the only way to ensure missing him was to rise at
an ungodly hour and depart as soon as possible.
    She crawled from the bed and stumbled across
her chamber to the washbasin and dashed cold water in her face.
That helped but did not alleviate her grogginess. Jillian dressed
quickly in the same outfit she had worn the day before, including
the straw hat, for the clothing was at hand where she had tossed it
on the floor last evening.
    Comfortably rumpled she quit her room not
five minutes later and descended the stairs. She exited the house
by way of the kitchen, stopping to fetch a thick slice of dark
bread from the pantry before leaving. She was awake now and the
bread tasted lovely, something unexpected since her stomach was not
used to being bothered at this time of day.
    She took the path leading to the stable,
munching hungrily while she walked. The structure loomed out of the
darkness as she finished eating and she moved through the door,
feeling as though she had entered a dark pit. She could hear the
horses in their stalls rather than see them.
    “Raven?”
    The horse whinnied in answer and Jillian
stepped over a hay-strewn floor in his direction, careful where she
placed her feet. Feeling in the dark, she found a lantern hanging
from a hook on a nearby post. She knew a phosphorus box rested on a
ledge not far from the lantern, and sure enough a blind search
revealed its location. Fumbling with the box, she extracted a match
and, coating it with phosphorus, struck the tiny piece of wood into
life. She then lit the lamp.
    “That’s better,” she said aloud as the
interior of the barn was cast into shadow and light.
    She could now see Raven. A bridle and bit
had been tossed carelessly over the partition between Raven’s stall
and the horse next to him, something Jillian demanded because she
went out at all hours of the day and night and wanted the riding
gear at hand. Searching the tack room for equipment when she was in
a hurry wasted precious time.
    With experienced hands she placed the bridle
over Raven’s head and led the animal from the barn.
    “You forgot your saddle.”
    The unexpected words came from behind her
and Jillian screamed. She recognized the voice even before she
opened her mouth. However, instant reflexes had already sent the
sound flying forth, making her feel ridiculous. She swung around to
face the intruder.
    Lord Wickham emerged from the darkness, his
eyes gleaming mischievously as he met her angry glare.
    “Why are you hiding in the stable?” she
asked peevishly as her heart continued to race.
    “I would hardly call it hiding, my lady. You
were later than I expected so I decided to take a nap in a haystack
in one of the stalls.”
    “I was later than you expected? You don’t
consider this early?”
    “Not early, very early, much too early,” he
said, his expression innocent.
    “What time did you leave Sutherfield?”
    “Now that was much too early.”
    Oh dear, she wanted to laugh. But she
mustn’t, just mustn’t or he would think she had thawed in her
attitude toward him. And she had no intention of doing that now or
ever.
    Jillian grimaced at him instead. “Have it
your own way. I see you are determined to come with me whether I
desire your company or not. You might as well be helpful then. The
fishing poles are leaning