Andy's Story

Chapter 13

It had been two weeks since she had left London, but it felt like a lifetime. Two weeks in which her friends would have been amazed at her, Andy refused to think about the number of coaches she had been in since leaving London. Two weeks of travel and rain and staying in out-of-the-way places. Places she hoped she was safe.

And those two weeks had led to her current whereabouts.

Standing in the driveway looking up at the massive rain drenched mansion which was looming before her. Red bricks and at least four stories tall.

Just looking at the facade of the place Andy could tell it was bigger than Oakfield Hall, with massive sparking windows to let in the light and Ivy growing up one side of the house, clinging to the brick work. She had taken all these details in, before the weather had turned and the sky had darkened and the heavens had opened, as she had walked up the long curved drive - a drive that was in a lot better condition than Riverdale's but that was going to be fixed come dry weather - carrying her carpetbag, a small smile on her lips as she thought of how she had ended up here.

Redworth Park.

All that remained to be seen was if she would be safe there. Would they let her in? Let her shelter from the rain?

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Once she had gotten on the coach and left Oakfield she had headed for her property, Riverdale Place. It had taken two days of travel before she reached it. A shorter amount of time than usual, due to her mode of transportation.

It was an estate that she had inherited from her grandmamma, one she normally visited in the summer months. It was only a small house, in comparison to Oakfield, even smaller in comparison to the one before her now. But she loved it - it was a home away from home.

George would not let here live there by herself - even if she had a companion. Andy was of the opinion that it would have been good for George to have the running of Oakfield to himself, it would have been the making of him. Rather than whatever he got up to in London. Gambling, drinking and what-not, Andy was sure he would be the death of her. Did she worry too much? She wondered.

So Riverdale Place was a retreat away from Oakfield, from George, for even though she run the house she received joy from it knowing that it was her own and she could do as she pleased without answering to her brother. She could change the chairs, the wallpaper, and paint the rooms any colours she chose.

Andy had bumped alone the drive in the dogcart that she had hired from a nearby farmer, promising that she would return it as soon as may be. The drive up to Riverdale Place was not one she could have walked, but maybe she should have given the condition it was in, as it was bumpy and littered with holes that she noted needed fixing. She made a mental note to have her estate manager to take care of the problem as soon as the weather fined up.

Mrs. Willows had greeted her at the door, as she didn't have a live-in butler for she normally hired one for the duration of her stay. She apologized for arriving unannounced and mentioned she wasn't staying long, just a few days, as she wasn't sure she would be coming down this summer and there were some things that she needed to see to just in case.

Andy had stayed for two nights, even though she knew it could be a risk she was treating herself to a small break in her subterfuge and she felt better for it. She had more to organize at Riverdale than she had at Oakfield.

Again she arranged for the steward, Mrs. Willow's son David, a man nearing forty with kind grey eyes and the necessary skills for the job, to send all correspondence to London to the residence of Lord Foyley. She mentioned the driveway, and left instructions for the repairs to be undertaken when the weather permitted it. She checked what account books she could, although she trusted David to treat her and her tenant's right.