She saddled her up and walked her into the muddy yard. Her hands were trembling a little bit. She was about to leave behind the only world she had ever known, the only people who had ever loved her.
A shadow of doubt covered her mind and for a brief moment she thought of going back.
No. I’m doing this tonight.
She pushed the blue tartan with her initials deeper into her bundle. She had grabbed it before leaving her room—maybe it would help her find her parents.
She mounted Bells and hurried her outside of the manor gates. She glanced back for a second.
I’m sorry, Mother and Father. I will be back—I promise.
She asked Bells to trot faster.
The night was still and quiet, but Marion didn’t notice it. She felt the fresh night air on her face and her hair unraveled from its bun. The men’s saddle she had picked over her own saddle felt strange under her legs and her thighs started to tire.
The sun started to peek through the clouds in the horizon after what felt like hours to Marion. Her legs were shaking and the adrenalin in her veins started to disappear.
“Whoa, Bells,” she sighed and slowed the horse down to walk. When she had grabbed the tartan and escaped in the night, she had been determined, rebellious even. Now, Marion felt doubt for the very first time.
Which way am I supposed to go? Maybe the villagers can point me in the right direction.
Marion kept riding towards a small village she saw on the horizon.
The sun was up when Marion finally reached the edge of the village. The air was filled with the chatter of women buying vegetables and apples at the market. She saw a little girl feeding clucking chickens in front of her house and heard men greeting each other.
Marion pulled her hood up to cover her face. She didn’t want anyone to recognize her. Walking slowly, not wanting to draw attention, she passed small stone houses. The houses had colorful flower beds in the front yards and freshly smelling herbs and vegetable gardens. Many houses had muddy pig sties in the back and she could hear the pigs splashing around in their pens having breakfast.
This reminded her about her own stomach, that made loud noises in protest. Soon she reached the edge of the village and found a well in the middle of a square. She hopped off her horse with stiff and aching legs. Now would be a good time to have some food and give Bells a well-deserved break.
* * *
Miss Keenan ran down the stony cold stairs towards the breakfast room. She was a heavy woman who rarely ran anymore, so her breathing was labored and wheezing.
Oh dear! Oh dear!
She wobbled forwards.
Earlier in the morning, she had knocked on Lady Marion’s door to help the young Lady get ready for breakfast. Instead of finding Lady Marion fast asleep, she had found an empty bed. Miss Keenan knew her little madam inside and out, and immediately thought that something was wrong. She had hurried around the house from room to room and even told William to swiftly check the stables for Lady Marion. But she was nowhere to be found.
Servants weren’t supposed to know the business of the masters, but Miss Keenan prided herself on her excellent hearing and sharp eyes. And a little eavesdropping never hurt anyone. She was well aware of the surprising news that the young Lady had received, even though she had tried to hide it from her.
Miss Keenan reached the breakfast parlor and found the Earl and Countess enjoying their breakfast.
“Scuse me, My Lord,” Miss Keenan said, still panting from all the running.
“Whatever is the matter, Miss Keenan? You look upset,” the Earl asked, confused.
“My Lord, My Lady, I should not be bothering in the midst of your breakfast, today’s porridge is exceptionally delicious… but My Lord, the young Lady is nowhere to be found!” Miss Keenan explained, grabbing her chest.
The Earl and Countess listened quietly when Miss Keenan explained the events of the early morning. The Countess let out a faint sob and the Earl started giving out orders to other servants. A few of his men were to go after Lady Marion and no one was allowed to say a word about this to anyone in town. What a shame it would be if anyone heard that the young Lady had escaped in the middle of the night, alone without a chaperone. It would ruin her reputation and engagement to the Earl of Brookville.
The whole manor was buzzing with worry and the servants were whispering to each other in the hall. By the end of the day, every servant in town would know what had happened—their masters none the wiser.
* * *
Marion was back on her horse, headed north towards Edinburgh. She had met an older, tired-looking woman at the well who had pointed her in the right direction. Though she had been very friendly and polite, Marion had noticed that she had looked at her clothes, knowing immediately that she was upper class and that something was up.
Before the woman in the smudgy clothes had had a chance to ask any questions, Marion had thanked her and left.
As the day went on, Marion took many breaks. Every few hours her legs would get tired and she would stop and walk Bells forward instead of riding. The journey advanced slowly, and Marion was sure that someone from the manor was already looking for her. She couldn’t afford to stop, not yet, not so close to home.
The sun started to set and it was soon to be dinner time. Marion had reached fields and all she saw around her were hilly meadows. The road squirmed on like a snake, disappearing behind the hills. She was tired and decided to stop for the night.
Marion let Bells graze in the meadow, while she sat down by an old oak
