Free The Highwayman's Mistress by Francine Howarth Page B

marriage.”
      Richard and his foolish games could make
things worse, when it was he who had robbed Lady Fortnum and others within the
county. “It is no fancy.”
      “I think you misjudge my brother, Mrs.
Whitaker,” said Angelica, adamant in tone   “He walked in here tonight after a long ride from London, and could not
have committed all these terrible deeds you’ve all talked of. He’s been there
for days.”
      “That is what he said,” remarked a man
standing close by, “and you know, I don’t think he’s the highwayman from
hereabouts. I’ve been thinking, the young count is dark of eyes and dark of
hair, and that young varmint who held us up the other day had eyes as blue as
the viscount’s, and I swear as fair, too.”
      The footman reappeared, and with that her
mother turned to him allowing the man to inform her the carriage at the door.
“Come girls, the evening is at end for us Whitakers.”

Chapter Nine
    ~
     
    She had not thought her
mother’s wrath would be so cruel, yet here she was hundreds of miles from home
and staying with relations of Lady Fortnum’s, the lady herself as good as her
jailer. The only consolation they were staying at a most elegant house overlooking
the Cleddau Estuary. She’d had no prior notion Wales, in particular
Pembrokeshire was such a beautiful place. In some respects it was much like
home, with pretty villages, country churches and a few grand houses.
      To be able to walk beside the tidal waterway
every day, weather permitting, had been a whole new experience, too. Although
keeping company with Lady Fortnum proved no great thrill, when Hugh Lewelyn
Griffiths, her nephew, accompanied them he turned the time to local history
lessons and made confinement more palatable.
      On this day they’d all taken a drive in a
carriage to see a ruined castle, and Hugh had promised it would be a pleasant
surprise. With eyes closed as instructed, she waited in anticipation as the
carriage climbed a hill and then rolled to a standstill.
      “What can you see?” he enthused, his
chestnut eyes almost laughing, his dark brown hair ruffled by remarkably warm
breeze off the sea.
      “Oh my goodness. What a beautiful bay, and
stretching as far as the eye can see. The sea is so blue, and the sand pure
gold.”
      “What else can you see?”
      She veered inland, and there it was, further
up the valley inlet, sitting on a large outcrop of rock. “A tower, a part
ruined tower. Can we get to it? It looks so romantic.”
      “Of course we can. No one lives there.” He
chuckled, excitement evident. “Would it surprise you if I told you it once
belonged to one of your mother’s ancestors?”
      “It did?”
      “Indeed it did,” said Lady Fortnum. “Roche
Castle, once owned by the de la Roche’ family.”
      Hugh chuckled. “And Charles the second’s
mistress, Lucy Walter, lived there when her father owned it, during the time of
the Civil War. Another story in itself.”
      “My goodness, I have much to learn. After
all, Lucy gave birth to a son, whom Charles, the merry monarch, recognised as
his and duly bestowed title Duke of Monmouth on the little fellow. Such a shame
he lost his head in trying to wrest the throne from James the second. But,
please, do tell me more about the castle.”
      Hugh ordered the carriage onward and the old
place came to life in her mind as, en route, he retold its de la Roche history.
    ~~
    Thrilled to have received a heartfelt letter of reprieve, from her
mother, nonetheless a little bit of her regretted having to leave Pembrokeshire
so soon. Hers and Hugh’s trips to castles and relics of historical merit,
although sometimes having involved a lot of walking, riding, and carriage
drives and picnic lunches she had enjoyed every minute of her time in
his company.
      Although a tad full of himself in the nicest
possible way, he was completely obsessed with the past and a bit of a romantic
fellow, and always telling her tales of