‘I have come to see my niece,’ he told her. She stood in the doorway as if trying to hide even the kitchen from his view and he was tempted to lift her aside and march in again, but could not bring himself to be so rude twice in a day.
‘She is very tired,’ she said and would not meet his eyes.
‘I dare say, but I need to see for myself Juno is safe and well,’ he insisted.
‘You do not trust my word, Lord Stratford?’
‘I do not know you, ma’am, and you seem to be determined to prevent me seeing my ward.’
‘It is not that,’ she said uneasily.
‘What is it, then?’ he barked, nearly at the end of his tether. He would invade her brother’s house to make sure Juno was whole and safe if he had to.
‘I am sorry, my lord,’ she said as if she really meant it, ‘but Miss Defford does not wish to see you.’
He put out a shaking hand to steady himself against the door jamb and wished he could lean on this noble old house, let exhaustion wash over him so he could sleep standing up and forget about those hurtful words. If he slept long enough, maybe this nightmare would end and he would wake to a world of sanity and order. ‘What do you expect me to do, then?’ he asked lamely at last.
‘Go back to Broadley and wait until you have both had a proper night’s sleep and are feeling less exhausted and more rational,’ Mrs Turner said as if she thought he could meekly ride back to that wretched little town without seeing for himself Juno was safe at last.
‘I cannot leave here without knowing she is unharmed,’ he allowed himself to plead.
Mrs Turner looked uneasy about keeping him standing out here like a beggar hoping for scraps. ‘No, of course you cannot,’ she murmured her agreement. ‘Juno, you must show yourself and reassure your uncle you are safe and well,’ she spoke up to his lurking niece and Alaric supposed he must be glad Juno did not bolt for the nearest attic to hide in when she realised he was coming. ‘We cannot let His Lordship think we are holding you to ransom or whatever nonsensical ideas he will think up if you refuse to come out. No need to say a word if you would rather not, but you must prove to him you are well and in one piece, even if you are footsore and rather oddly dressed.’
He thought he heard a soft whisper of a laugh in the cool shadows beyond the kitchen and gazed hungrily past Mrs Turner’s slender form, hoping for a glimpse of his niece. ‘Just let me see you are unharmed, Jojo, and I promise you I will go away again until you are feeling better,’ he said quietly and willed her to step forward. He loved his niece far more than he had ever been able to let her know, but he was the adult and he should have told her all through her lonely childhood if he wanted her to believe him now.
‘You used to call me that when Papa was alive,’ she said so softly he had to strain his ears for the words and he longed for her to come properly inside the room so he could catch a glimpse of her for the first time in far too long.
‘And how he would rip up at me for letting his little girl be so miserable in London that you felt you had to come so far to find Miss Grantham.’
‘You will not make me go back to live with Grandmama, will you?’ she said and finally found the courage to peer around the doorpost at him.
All he could see was two anxious blue eyes looking warily at him and her pale face looking thinner and even more worried than last time he had set eyes on her. Then he had been bidding her goodbye at his London home before he travelled on to Paris. ‘No, even if I wanted to I could not since the Dowager has left the country and will live overseas from now on. I will not make you go anywhere you do not want to go ever again, Jojo,’ he promised recklessly and with a wobble in his voice he wished Mrs Turner was not here to pick up on.
‘I want to stay here,’ Juno managed to say almost out loud.
Alaric’s heart sank as he realised it could be too late to put his relationship with his niece right. Maybe he had defended himself against loving anyone for so long it had become a habit. But how could he have refused it to a child who had lost her father so young she could barely remember him? It seemed feeble and self-pitying to admit he had felt so shaken and alone when he lost his brother that he had built a wall around himself. Perhaps George had been lonely as his parents’ only surviving child, but whatever the reason, he had taken to his baby brother and refused to hear their mother’s orders to let the brat go to the devil and come away. Even as a boy he had taken care Alaric was happy and well looked after when he had inherited their father’s title as a mere lad himself. George had always done his best to shield Alaric from the Dowager’s cold dislike and it had hit him like an Arctic blast when George was killed and Alaric had to step into his brother’s shoes. Within the new Viscount Stratford’s barricades he must have looked self-sufficient and composed instead of bereft and terrified. Men of power were certainly fooled and they began to use him for not quite official tasks like the one in Paris to help the Duke of Wellington through an awkward situation in any way he could. Little did they know there was a coward lurking behind all that lordly composure and now Juno had paid the price.
‘Then so you shall, if I can make arrangements for your board and lodging and any other expenses. And if Mrs Turner does not mind having such a demanding young lady about the place when she has a great deal to do?’
I will miss you like the devil, but that will serve me right, he did not add. It would not be fair, after all he had not done for his niece up to now, to put any pressure on her to try and get her to love him back. Serve him right if he never did after walling her out along with the rest of the world ever since her father died.
‘You really do not mind if I stay, then?’ Juno said and she was so eager to hear his reply she actually crept past the doorway and stood just inside the room like a feral kitten ready to bolt for cover if he made the slightest move towards her. ‘I promise not to get under your feet, Mrs Turner,’ she added earnestly. ‘I know you are very busy, but I would love to help you clean and sort through all the curious old things you have found. Miss Grantham made it sound such an adventure I feel as if I know you and the house already.’
‘I wonder if she knows how hard that work can be. It is rough and ready living here, Juno. I have a great deal to do before this old place even feels like a proper gentleman’s residence once again. If you really want to stay with us for a while and rough it and His Lordship is content for my brother and me to have you here until you have recovered from your long journey, then I am sure we would be very happy to have you stay here until you feel you are ready to face the world again.’
Mrs Turner was clearly waiting to hear whether he was resigned to his niece’s wishes, if not exactly delighted by them. He could see the knowledge that Miss Grantham would shortly be part of this household in her eyes as she met his with something like an apology because his niece seemed to prefer her company to his.
‘His Lordship must be content if that is what you really want, Juno,’ he said wearily. ‘I hope you will write to me now and again,’ he allowed himself to beg before he could make himself go away and leave her with strangers.
‘Yes,’ she said and seemed to hesitate, as if she wanted to say more, but was afraid he might try to change her mind if she risked it.
‘Good,’ he said hoarsely and fought back some unmanly feeling tears as he shook his head and managed to meet Mrs Turner’s gaze with a plea in his. ‘Look after her for me, please?’ he asked and he did trust her to do that, stranger as she was and not a particularly polite or respectful one either.
‘I will,’ she promised.
‘Very well, then. I wish you good day, Mrs Turner, Juno,’ he said gruffly and bowed, then turned on his heel before he lowered himself to beg her to trust him instead. Time to get on with the rest of his life without most of the things he thought he had when he left England on that disastrous errand to France, where it turned out nobody wanted him very much either.
Chapter Five
A tense silence settled over the usually comfortable kitchen where Marianne often sat with Darius of an evening rather than make him change back into a gentleman after his labours on the farms all day. She listened to the noise of Lord Stratford’s finely made boots on the cobbles fade from hearing and wondered what Juno was thinking as she decided they sounded very lonely. She doubted Lord Stratford would want her pity, but he had it for the slap his timid niece had just landed on him without lifting a finger.
‘I could not go with him, Mrs Turner, really I could not.’ There was a look very like guilt on the girl’s face when Marianne turned to look at her surprise guest’s face.
‘Well, you are not doing so, are you?’ she said coolly. In her opinion forgiving someone who sincerely rued a mistake was part of being grown up and Juno was using her youth and shyness as an excuse not to do so. She supposed she should not judge the girl harshly; Juno had obviously been through a few horrible months at the mercy of an unsympathetic grandmother and the indifferent ton. She smiled at the girl to take the sting out of her question and thanked her lucky stars she was not rich or noble enough to be looked down on and ignored by the cream of polite society herself.
‘No, but thank you for agreeing to take me in.’
‘It can only be for a while, Juno. You belong with your family and I think Lord Stratford will pay much more attention to your wants and needs from now on. You have put him through a dreadful ordeal by disappearing as if you had been stolen away by the fairies and I suspect he has learnt his lesson well and will take much better care of you in future.’
‘Maybe, but I still do not want to be a useless lady who sews seat covers, paints dreadful watercolours and plays the harp badly until some lord is ready to marry me for the sake of my dowry and an heir.’
Juno sounded downright sulky now and looked like an overwrought child sadly in need of her bed. Marianne sighed and supposed the girl was not so very far from the schoolroom. She certainly did not seem anywhere near mature enough to face the scarily adult dilemma she had been forced into by her grandmother. Under her crippling shyness Marianne thought the girl was angry because her uncle had not been there when she needed him most. She was certainly being unfeeling about Lord Stratford’s exhausting ride and obvious weariness when he got here, but maybe he deserved it. Marianne still felt guilty about sending him back to Broadley without his niece, though. At least Lord Stratford cared enough about the girl to ride so hard he looked almost asleep on his feet now the relief of finding out Juno was safe had removed the worst of his worries about her.
‘We can put the knotty problem of your future aside for now and think about what comes next instead. I would be very glad of your help with my endless pile of mending and I promise to stitch any seat covers that are in need of repair so you do not have to do it.’
Juno grimaced at the thought of sitting quietly and sewing after all the drama of the last few days, but if she thought it would be a nice little holiday from real life to stay here she might as well find out straight away nobody was allowed to sit idly by when there was so much to do. It would do Juno no harm at all to perform a few boring tasks. Marianne planned to talk about even more boring things while they worked, since she doubted Juno would agree to go up to bed and sleep off the worst of her adventures in the middle of the day. If she was good enough at her tedious tales, she might even allow herself to nod off and catch up on some much-needed sleep.
Suddenly there was a cacophony of barking and outraged neighs through the open door, followed by an ominous thud, then the sound of men shouting and arguing at the tops of their voices. Alarm spurred her into action before her mind caught up and Marianne’s heart thudded with dread as she ran outside with her skirts lifted high to free her legs for action. She hardly knew the man, but fear for Lord Stratford rang around her head in a near panic. Of course she would feel like this about any human being who could have been gravely injured in what sounded like a crashing fall. Juno was right behind her now and Marianne hoped she would not shy away from whatever trouble was ahead of them and faint or get in the way.
The yard was full of men shouting and milling about and the farm dogs were still barking and that dratted horse was stamping about, looking wild-eyed and dangerous. There was Lord Stratford in the midst of it all. He was lying too still with the horse dancing and snorting with its deadly iron-shod hooves far too close to the man’s prone body as it looked wild enough to lash out with intent to kill.
‘Joe Nicklin, you catch that damned horse right now, before it kills the poor man,’ Marianne shouted over the hullabaloo at the most sober of the men who had gathered to gawp at the chaos and argue about the fallen man at the centre of it. Thankfully Joe listened to her and made a lunge at the animal’s bridle, then wrestled the beast back and away so at least it was no longer within kicking reach of Lord Stratford’s dark head. Seeing Joe spring into action, the rest of the men seemed to snap out of their panicked stupor and ran to help Joe force the foam-flecked and still-protesting horse away from its fallen rider. ‘We will talk about who did what, when and why once I am quite certain His Lordship will survive,’ she added with a quelling glare at anyone still standing about gawping.
‘Right you are, missus,’ Joe’s brother Seth said with an ingratiating smile. He was trying too hard to placate her and her suspicion he had something to do with this disaster hardened to a certainty. Seth was a troubled soul who had come back from the war restless and edgy and inclined to lose his temper without much cause, but he was also a superb horseman. She suspected Darius had taken him on because he recognised the faraway look in the man’s eyes when he spoke of war and her brother had a soft heart under his self-contained manner. But never mind them now, Lord Stratford needed all her attention until he was his arrogant self again and she refused to believe in an alternative.
‘Ride for the doctor as fast as you can go and insist he comes back with you, Seth. Tell him it could be a matter of life and death and say who is injured and if you do it well enough maybe whatever mischief you have been about today need go no further,’ she ordered brusquely and at least he had the shame or wit enough to run off to the stables and not stand about arguing.
‘And you can get that bad-tempered brute out of the way, Joe,’ she snapped as the nag still fought the man’s powerful grip. ‘Put him in a stall and make it as dark as you can get it, then leave him to do his worst. We can worry about him later.’
Now Marianne’s eyes were fixed on Lord Stratford’s prone body as she tried to see if any of his limbs were bent under him at a worrying angle. Somehow the sight of him so vulnerable and undefended made her blink back a tear. She ordered herself not to be such a widgeon and get on with finding out what was wrong with him and whether it could be put right. Her heart was in her mouth as she walked past the men dragging the still-resisting horse away to kneel at his side.
Juno sank onto her knees at her uncle’s side even before Marianne got there. ‘Do not even think about moving him. We must find out how bad his injuries are before we risk making bad worse,’ Marianne ordered when the girl reached out to touch him, then snatched her hand back as if it had been bitten at the thought of doing him more harm.
‘Is he going to die, Mrs Turner? It will be my fault if he does. He would not even be here to be thrown from that brute if not for me.’
‘Pray do not start spouting such morbid nonsense when I need your help. You are the only truly sober person here so do not have hysterics.’
‘What must I do, then?’
‘Stay calm while I find out how badly he is injured,’ Marianne said, and began to explore Lord Stratford’s prone body as gently as she could as she fought back her own panic and this silly feeling that if he was mortally injured it would feel like a personal tragedy. She hardly even knew him. Thank goodness she had a good deal of experience nursing wounded men who stood a better chance of recov
ery if they could stay with the column than they would in an army hospital.
She decided none of his limbs looked twisted out of shape and began gently winnowing through his crisply curling dark hair until she found a knotty lump underneath it already beginning to swell and explaining his loss of consciousness. ‘He will certainly have a headache when he wakes up,’ she told Juno with as much of a smile as she could manage to reassure the girl.
‘He will hate that,’ Juno said with a wobble in her voice to say she knew how serious head injuries could be, but if hoping for the best would help she was ready to try it. ‘Uncle Alaric hates being ill.’
‘Then he is in for a torrid time. I think he has sprained his wrist as well. Was the gentleman slammed against the wall, Joe?’ Marianne asked the man as he ran back into the yard. At least he must have shut the bad-tempered nag away and the men looked as if this accident had sobered them up so they might be in a fit state to help her get His Lordship inside without further endangering his life.
‘Seth brought his horse out. I was thatching the rick like you said I was to, Mrs Turner. I only looked over here when our Seth shouted the horse was getting ready to bolt and it must have thrown yon lord against the wall before Seth could grab it and make it stop. Bad-tempered great brute it is. I wonder the Royal George hired him out to a proper lord.’
‘I expect he was in a hurry and demanded the fastest horse they had in their stables,’ Marianne said and fought the oddest feeling she knew him that well while she ran exploring hands over surprisingly heavy bands of muscle on His Lordship’s torso as gently as she could to find out if he had any more serious injuries they needed to worry about.
‘He would do that. He does not like to wait,’ Juno agreed almost fondly.
Marianne carried on with her exploration. Now she knew Lord Stratford did not have a spare ounce anywhere on his impressively muscular body and she should not be impressed by the strength and endurance of the man at a time like this. She soothed the gentlest of touches over his waist and narrow hips and even lying in a heap like this she could tell his legs were the same length. At least there was no need to worry about a serious fracture that could put his life in danger from internal bleeding. His left ankle seemed awkward, though, and she dreaded having to cut the snug-fitting riding boot off it so she could see if it was broken. Best do it before he was awake and would feel every agonising movement and she might flinch with him and risk cutting him instead. ‘I need the boning shears from the scullery, Juno. Take care, they are very sharp and please do not run on the way back—I do not have time for any more patients,’ she said and Juno was gone before she even finished her sentence.
Unsuitable Bride For A Viscount (The Yelverton Marriages Book 2) Page 5
