Free Into the Blue by Christina Green Page A

upset your stepmother, and I wish to forget the whole unpleasant incident.’ He opened the drawing-room door and she went in, knowing that although this was a small victory, it did not open the way to unconditional freedom, the dream of which still filled her mind, even as she smiled and prepared the table for tea.
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    The next morning was fresh and sweet scented and Hester found herself looking forward enormously to meeting Hugh and some old friends. Tennis, conversation and laughter would be enjoyable, the last few days having been so unhappy. She found her racquet, dusted it down and felt for sagging strings, hopeful that it would last just one more summer. A disturbing thought struck: would she still be here next year, playing tennis, immersed in mind-searing domesticity and still hating every moment of it?
    At breakfast the atmosphere was sober and quiet, and she did not engage either Father or Stepmother in conversation. Enough that they both looked happier than yesterday, she thought.
    Stepmother, finishing her toast, looked up and said, ‘I suppose Hugh will be here soon. And will you stay at the Marchants’ for luncheon?’ Her pale face managed a smile and Hester returned it.
    â€˜I don’t know, Stepmother. It might be best not to expect me.’
    Emma blinked. ‘I see. But you’ll be back in time to come with me when we go to tea with Vicar’s wife, of course?’

    Hester sucked in a breath. ‘Yes, Stepmother. I’ll be here.’
    Hester’s faded blue linen dress was then carefully inspected by Emma, who murmured, ‘It must be difficult to play with a bustle bouncing up and down at your back. And have you pinned your hat on securely?’
    â€˜Yes, Stepmother.’ Hester adjusted the small, brimmed straw hat and ran a hand down her tightly waisted dress. She wished that the modern decision to remove corsets from feminine fashion would soon have results: in the exciting future that lay ahead women must throw out such tight and uncomfortable manifestations of men’s dictatorship. With Nicholas Thorne’s words about the amazing lady adventurers echoing in her head, she wondered whether they wore something easier and looser as they travelled, and she had to hide the laughter bubbling up as she remembered. Corsets in the jungle would surely be very restrictive indeed.
    At ten o’clock precisely there was a knock at the door and Hugh stood there, his smile broadening as he looked at her. ‘Good morning, Hester. My word, you look ready for anything. I predict we shall win all our matches this morning.’ Taking her racquet, he held out a hand to lead her into the pony trap at the bottom of the steps. ‘Up you get. And now – where would you like to go for luncheon?’ The pony moved down the drive and then, as Hugh flicked the whip over its back, trotted up the lane and away from Oak House.
    Away from home . Hester took a long, deep, enjoyable breath, realizing that life was blooming all around her. Away from home, a meeting with old friends and some exciting games of tennis. She smiled at Hugh. ‘What a good idea. All of us, going off on the spree?’
    â€˜No.’ He sounded authoritative, and his expression was intense enough to make something flicker inside her. ‘Just you and me. I think we’re old enough friends to allow our families to accept we need to be alone sometimes. Your parents don’t expect you back too soon, do they?’
    She shook her head. ‘I said I might be back at lunchtime, but they won’t worry if I’m not.’
    â€˜Well done.’ His grin was approving. ‘So think about where you’d like to go.’
    As they turned into the main road, Hester looked around her, saw
the inviting blue-grey hazy outline of Dartmoor a few miles away and said impulsively, ‘Let’s go up on the moor. We’ll find an inn. Oh, what fun!’ And then she heard the