‘Easy, boys, easy.’
‘Everything all right there, Mr Henning?’ asked Richard. Dressed against the cold in his travelling greatcoat and a curly beaver hat, he’d come out to oversee the final preparations and to escort Emma and Julia into their carriage.
Joe grinned and raised his hand to his forehead. ‘Yes, sir. They’re raring to go. Should be able to keep up a brisk pace if it stays dry and clear. We should make Maidenhead easily by nightfall.’
‘Good man. That’s what I thought.’
At the sound of voices, Richard turned to see Emma arm in arm with Julia coming down the steps. They, too, were warmly attired, and both sported jaunty hats. He blinked in appreciation, for Emma was looking particularly fetching in a dark-red velvet turban and matching pelisse, which he recognised as belonging to his sister. The turban gave a glow to Emma’s pale complexion and framed her elfin face. Richard’s smile disappeared as he caught their conversation.
‘Are you sure you’re fine, Julia? You’re looking a bit peaked.’ Emma’s voice sounded anxious. ‘I’m sure we can hold off travelling if you’re not well. Richard surely won’t mind.’
Julia, with an airy wave, dismissed Emma’s suggestion. ‘No, no. It’s just a little tummy upset, I’m sure. I probably indulged in too much dessert last night.’ She gave what sounded to her brother like a very forced laugh. ‘George always says I eat more than I should when it comes to pudding.’ Julia held a defiant look in her eyes as Richard stalked towards her, forcing him to question why all the females in his life could be so troublesome.
‘Now, don’t you start fussing too, Richard,’ she said rather acidly. ‘I’m perfectly fine to travel. Susan shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
‘Oh, please don’t blame Susan,’ said Emma, looking worried. ‘Polly just happened to notice that your breakfast was untouched and told me that you might not be feeling quite the thing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Richard was curious. Emma looked awkward and embarrassed. His sister was unusually pale. Richard pulled off his riding gauntlets, ready to postpone their journey if Julia was ill. What he couldn’t understand was why Julia was being so defensive. Before he could say anything, his sister spoke.
‘I’m sorry for snapping, Emma.’ Julia’s eyes were now apologetic. She turned to him. ‘Richard, I have a slight headache, that’s all. I shall be as right as anything once we’re on our way. I don’t mean to be a sourpuss.’
Emma, still looking concerned, said, ‘Don’t worry, there’s nothing to forgive. But do let me know if you begin to feel unwell again. Mama often suffered with headaches, so I know a few remedies, and I’d be perfectly happy to travel with the curtains drawn if it helps.’
Julia’s mouth twitched. ‘I’m not as bad as that, I assure you. Come on. Give me your hand, Richard.’
Richard frowned, perplexed as to why his sister, who’d first claimed it was a stomach upset that was causing her to look unwell, was now saying that it was a headache. He suspected something else was going on.
Richard gave her a long, penetrating look. ‘If you’re quite sure, Julia?’
Her eyes flickered away from his as she answered briskly, ‘Of course I am. Now give me your hand, Richard, if you please.’
Thoroughly nonplussed, he took her proffered hand and helped her into the coach. Julia hardly ever suffered from headaches. Out of the three siblings, he considered her to have the strongest constitution. He hoped this wasn’t something else he was going to have to worry about. They needed to reach London as quickly as possible.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll look out for her.’ Emma’s words, spoken in warm, hushed tones brought him back to the present. He acknowledged them by giving her hand a quick squeeze as he handed her up into the carriage. The smile Emma sent him told him that his sister was in safe hands. Such a capable young woman and an attractive one too, despite her propensity for alarming him with her dangerous notions.
The sight of Jamie’s slight figure, shoulders hunched and hands jammed in pockets, spoke eloquently of the lad’s thoughts on travelling with the ladies and gave Richard an idea.
‘Jamie, how would you like to ride in the curricle with me?’
The boy’s face lit up.
‘Really? I say! Thanks, Richard. You’re a good sport.’
Richard grinned at Jamie’s beaming face. At least one of the party was happy.
Richard walked up to Phil, who’d just brought the curricle round from the stables.
‘Phil, would you mind riding Caesar while I take Jamie up with me?’
Phil’s face showed surprise. ‘Certainly, though I’m honoured that you entrust him to me.’ Phil jumped down and headed towards the frisky chestnut stallion who was dragging behind him a panting and red-faced stableboy.
Richard laughed. ‘I’ve seen you ride, remember. And if you can control that beast you keep back in Falmouth, I’m sure you can manage Caesar.’
Soon, the cavalcade set off.
It was getting on for evening when the carriages at last drew into the yard of the King’s Arms. The day had gone without incident, much to Richard’s relief, and he was pleased to note, as she alighted, that the colour had returned to Julia’s cheeks.
Emma saw him watching his sister and whispered as she passed him, ‘Don’t worry, she seems fine now. And I’ll look after her if she becomes unwell again.’
‘Thank you. It’s good to know I can rely on you.’
He continued to watch as Emma’s slight figure disappeared into the inn, unable to drag his eyes away. There was definitely much more to her than met the eye.
After a welcome night’s rest, Emma woke up to the sound of a cockerel crowing and wheels turning on the cobbles in the yard below. She lay still for a moment, enjoying the sensation of not being constantly jolted around. As well sprung as Richard’s travelling carriage was, she would be glad to reach their destination, for there’d been several times during the previous day’s journey when she’d been convinced that Julia would faint. Despite her denials to the contrary, Emma was certain that her friend was ailing.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Emma sat up to see the huddled shape that was Polly curled up on the truckle bed nearby. Emma smiled at the sound of the maid’s gentle snoring and decided to let her sleep a while longer.
Then another sound caught her ears, which seemed to be coming from Julia’s room next door. It sounded very like someone retching. Panic-stricken, Emma flung off the blankets, threw a shawl over her shoulders, and set off to discover what was going on. She tapped lightly on Julia’s door.
‘It’s only me, Julia. May I enter?’
There were sounds of muffled voices, then Susan opened the door, in her hands a covered bowl. She bobbed a quick curtsey and slipped past a startled Emma, heading for the stairs. Stepping inside the dimly lit room, Emma saw that Julia was upright in the bed, her head bent over another receptacle.
Julia groaned and waved her in, without looking up. ‘I see you’ve found me out.’
Emma moved nearer, a concerned expression on her face. ‘What do you mean? I heard you being ill.’ She moved to the window and pulled at the shutters to let in some light. Her eyes widened at Julia’s ashen face. ‘Goodness me, you look pale. Is it something you’ve eaten?’ A puzzled frown creased her brow. ‘Though we both ate the same things last night and I seem to be fine.’
Despite her obvious distress, Julia managed a smile as she wiped her mouth.
‘You really haven’t guessed? I’m increasing, of course. But don’t tell Richard. He’ll only insist on taking it even slower. Besides, I want to tell George first.’
Emma stared and her mouth dropped open. She knew nothing about pregnancy. It was not a subject that her mother had ever discussed with her. There’d been no need, after all. She’d never had a suitor, and there’d been no plans for her to wed. And n
ow she never would, she told herself. She knew babies came after marriage but wasn’t sure exactly how it all came about. As for the signs of pregnancy, well, she hadn’t a clue. Her mouth twisted. No marriage meant no babies. Emma forced that thought away.
Climbing onto the bed, she gave Julia a hug and they both giggled with pleasure, delighted with their shared secret.
Emma decided that she might as well learn more.
‘Do you mean to tell me that one is sick when one is expecting? Is it like that all the way through?’
Julia gave a wan smile.
‘Only at the beginning, or so I’ve been told. I’d a suspicion I might be increasing when Richard’s letter arrived. My courses hadn’t come and I’m never late.’ Her eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘I didn’t say anything because I knew George wouldn’t be happy for me to travel. But honestly, apart from this beastly morning sickness – which Susan assures me is perfectly normal – and being a little tired, I feel really well.’ She grasped Emma’s hand. ‘So, please, you won’t say anything, will you?’
Quelling her misgivings, Emma promised. ‘Not if you don’t wish me to, of course I won’t.’
Julia beamed at her. ‘Thank you. I knew I could rely on you.’
Emma winced inwardly at this echo of Richard’s words. Would he still trust her once he discovered that she’d kept quiet about his sister’s condition? Well, it was Julia’s secret to keep, and she wasn’t going to break a confidence.
Julia continued, her face radiating excitement. ‘I’ve been dying to share my good news with another female. I’m so glad we’re friends. I always wanted a sister, and now I feel I’ve got one.’
‘As do I,’ replied Emma, smiling. ‘Travelling abroad meant there weren’t young ladies of my age that I could mix with. In any case, Papa preferred to avoid society. For the last few years, there were no English people at all living near us.’
As she returned to her room, Emma pondered on whether, once life got back to normal, she could remain good friends with Julia, for it would also inevitably mean continuing to see Richard, a man who had a disturbing effect on her emotions. Dare she take the risk? But, she told herself, he might not want an unmarried, independent-minded female keeping company with his sister. Come to that, neither might the saintly George. She rolled her eyes. It was beginning to dawn on her that heeding her mother’s words would have repercussions on all aspects of her life, not just her friendships. There was no acceptable role for an unmarried lady of her class other than as a maiden aunt or a lady’s companion. It was almost unheard of for a female to make her own way in the world independent of male guidance and control. She frowned to herself. And what would Grandmamma say?
Yes, it was all getting very complicated.
Down in the parlour, the party enjoyed a hurried breakfast. Julia wasn’t the only one feeling not quite the thing. Richard was suffering the effects of a disturbed night. Who would’ve guessed that Jamie, with whom he’d shared a room, was subject to thrashing about and talking in his sleep? From the boy’s disjointed ramblings, Richard deduced that the lad was having nightmares about his journey back from Greece – nightmares so vivid in their terrors that Richard had been forced to tuck the lad back into his truckle bed several times during the night.
Richard gazed round the table with bleary eyes, noting happily that at least his sister’s face showed no sign of illness. She was smiling brightly, even eating a little toast and drinking a dish of tea.
One less thing to worry about at least, he told himself, blissfully unaware that his sister’s glowing cheeks were the result of a judicious application of rouge. Finding nothing else to concern him in his companions, apart from Emma’s beguilingly disturbing smile, he decided that they should continue their journey.
Soon they were on their way again and making good time, thanks to the fine weather and dry roads. But as the day wore on, clouds gathered and a storm threatened. The first heavy spots of rain were felt just as they were nearing Hounslow, and it wasn’t long before the heavens opened. Richard, who was driving the curricle with Jamie beside him, had given the lad his own heavy waterproof to wear while he made do with a spare cloak and a hat pulled down over his brow.
‘Not far to go now, Jamie,’ said Richard in a bolstering tone. ‘We’ll stop shortly to dry off and get some food, and with luck the rain will blow over.’
The forlorn, bedraggled figure at his side nodded in agreement. Richard smiled despite his own discomfort. Jamie was getting over his excitement at riding outside. Richard fervently hoped that the weather would clear, as he was wet, tired, and hungry too.
To add to Richard’s troubles, rainwater had collected in the brim of his hat and streamed down his face with every jolt of the wheels. Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore it, but soon even his calm temperament was sorely tried. With a grimace, Richard fumbled for his handkerchief, and as he did so something whizzed past his head.
There was a scream from Jamie.
Richard’s eyes shot to the boy who was now slumped down clutching his arm. Blood seeped through the sleeve of the lad’s coat, and his face was deathly pale. Richard felt an icy shaft of fear.
Not the boy. Not the boy.
Richard strived to keep his voice calm. ‘Steady, Jamie, hold on. Let’s stop and see what’s happened.’
Phil cantered up to Richard’s side, his pistol drawn.
‘I heard a shot. Are you all right?’ Phil’s eyes widened at the sight of Jamie’s bloodied arm, and he pointed to a copse at the side of the road. ‘I think it came from there.’ Without waiting for an answer, he wheeled his horse round and added, ‘I’m going over,’ before galloping off in a hail of mud and dirt.
All Richard could think was that it should be him dealing with the problem, but his first concern had to be for Jamie, who was now whimpering.
‘Can you remain still for a moment until I can come round and lift you down?’ asked Richard gently. He didn’t want to panic the lad.
Jamie gave a slight nod, his face creased in pain. Satisfied that Jamie wouldn’t tumble, Richard tied the reins off and climbed down. By this time, Henning had brought the travelling carriage to a halt, leaving it in charge of the under groom, and was making his way towards Richard.
‘What’s the problem, sir?’ Henning’s mouth dropped open as he caught sight of Jamie. ‘Good grief! What happened? Where’s Mr Cullen?’
Richard was brusque. ‘Never mind that for now. Can you help me get the lad down? We need to take care with his arm. He’s been shot.’
Henning sprang into action, much to Richard’s approval, and deftly manoeuvred Jamie into Richard’s waiting arms. The rain was still coming down, but thankfully not as heavily as before.
A female voice called, ‘What’s happening? Is everything all right? Why have we stopped?’
Emma had stepped down from the coach and was starting to pick her way through the puddles when her eyes alighted on her brother. Before Richard could call out a warning, she was running towards him. Richard braced himself. He wasn’t in the mood for female hysterics.
To his surprise, she didn’t faint or scream, but seeming to grasp the situation at once, she started to issue orders.
‘Get him into the coach where he can lie down, please,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ll tell Julia to clear the seat.’ Spinning on her heels, she trotted back towards the coach. Her instructions to Julia were calm and concise. ‘Julia, would you mind terribly making room for Jamie to lie down? I think there’s been an accident, and we need to get him warm and dry.’
Stunned and not a little awestruck at her composure, Richard swiftly followed and placed Jamie in the carriage in the space Julia had quickly vacated. The lad was being very brave, biting his lower lip in what looked like an effort to restrain himself from crying out. Richard was beginning to understand how the pair had overcome the perils of their journey back to England.
Emma tugged on Richard’s sleeve. ‘What happened?’ Her voice was commendably steady.
Richard grimaced. ‘He’s been shot. But no doubt it was meant for me.’ He sent worried eyes towards the lad, who was pale and staring anxiously at his sister. ‘Would that the ball had found its true mark rather than him.’
Julia gasped and Emma’s eyes flickered. ‘Nonsense,’ she said. ‘He’s been wounded in the arm. All is not lost. We must get his coat off to see what damage has been done. Would you do it, Richard?’
Richard nodded. It wasn’t often that he took orders from a female.
‘Of course. Come, gently does it, Jamie. I’ll try not to hurt you, old man,’ he murmured to the lad, who now appeared to be rallying.
There were more gasps from Julia as Jamie’s blood-soaked shirtsleeve was revealed.
‘Let me have your cravat, Richard,’ Emma instructed.
Richard wordlessly complied as Emma carefully pulled up the blood-soaked shirtsleeve to examine the wound.
She let out a breath. ‘It’s only a flesh wound, thank goodness. Look, it seems to have skimmed the top part of his arm. I think the ball must have missed embedding itself. Have you got any alcohol? It will help until he sees a doctor.’
Richard hurried back to the curricle to retrieve his flask. Filled with guilt, he was blaming himself for not taking better care of Jamie. Emma’s composure had also shaken him. Who would guess from her fragile appearance that here was such a determined and purposeful woman? She’d behaved as if a shooting were an everyday occurrence, taking charge in an unobtrusive way, issuing instructions, and all the while reassuring her brother. He’d never met anyone like her. Even Julia had wilted, and up to now she’d been the strongest female he’d known.
He sprinted back with the flask as Emma was cutting the last of the sleeve from Jamie’s arm with a pair of needlework scissors. She took it from him and proceeded to pour a liberal amount over the wound.
A Gentleman’s Promise: A Regency Romance (Gentlemen Book 1) Page 10
