The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower

by Hazel Linwood

  “What has happened here?” the Earl repeated. “Are you well, my dear? Did you fall from your horse?” The Earl looked around to see if he could find the errant equine.

  “It was a branch. I did not see it,” Lady Diana explained. It was not a lie, but it was not the complete truth, either. Gabriel admired her agile mind and ability to think quickly in a moment of uncertainty.

  “And where were you, boy, when all of this was taking place?” The Earl turn to Gabriel accusingly.

  “Please, do not blame Gabriel. It is he that saved me and kept me from any true harm. It is only my nerves that are the issue, not bodily harm.”

  “I see,” the Earl mused. “Then I owe you my gratitude, Gabriel, for aiding Lady Diana in her time of need.”

  “Not at all, My Lord. It is my duty and my pleasure to serve My Lady.” Gabriel’s eyes met Diana’s over the top of the Earl’s head at the word pleasure and they shared a knowing look of desire and bittersweet sorrow.

  “Yes, of course. Quite right,” the Earl nodded. “Do you feel as though you can ride, my dear?”

  “Yes, I believe so,” Diana nodded.

  “You, boy, go and fetch Lady Diana’s horse. I will escort her back to the manor house.”

  “No, My Lord. Please do not worry yourself on my account. I do not wish for you to miss felling a stag. The servants’ dance depends upon it, does it not?”

  “It does,” the Earl nodded in thought.

  “Gabriel can take me back to the house. You go on ahead with the Marquess and finish the hunt. I will be well in his capable hands, I assure you.”

  “If you are certain,” the Earl hesitated, eyeing Gabriel as if to assess the stable hand’s competence. “You will see Lady Diana safely back to the manor house without further incident.”

  “Yes, My Lord,” Gabriel nodded, gritting his teeth to keep from saying something that he should not. It was clear that the Earl had no notion of what had transpired between Gabriel and Lady Diana. It was equally clear that in spite of the Earl’s support of the servants’ dance, that he had no real affection for Gabriel’s place in the world.

  Perhaps he can sense that there is something more between she and I than can be seen. If so, it is truly dangerous for us both. I will not have my feelings and desires risk her reputation. I refuse to be the cause of her ruin, now or ever.

  Shoving his conflicting emotions to the background, Gabriel went to fetch Diana’s horse and helped her back up into the saddle. “Can you ride?”

  “Yes, I am well, truly.” Her eyes met his with glistening tears just barely concealed behind beautiful thick lashes.

  Gabriel nodded, then turned to mount his own steed. The Earl saw them off, then turned to rejoin the Marquess in the hunt. Gabriel led Diana out of the forest toward the stables. When they arrived back at the manor house, Gabriel lifted Diana from the saddle and deposited her on the front steps. “Go and wash away the forest floor from your skin, rest and recover.”

  “I am well, truly. I do not need to be coddled.”

  “Nevertheless, my recommendation still stands.”

  “Gabriel, what happened in the forest…”

  “Can never happen again,” Gabriel finished for her, then turned and walked away before another word could be spoken. He did not wish for the butler to overhear them and report their conversation back to the Dowager Marchioness. Such an action would bring disaster to them both.

  Leading the horses back to the stables, Gabriel forced himself not to look back over his shoulder to see how she had responded to his words. He held his back straight and his face forward, clenching his jaw against the desire to turn around and pull her into his arms. He could still feel the remnants of their kiss upon his lips and it caused his entire body to ignite with a flood of emotions and sensations that were nearly impossible to resist. He knew that Diana was not for him, but his heart and body disagreed.

  Walk away, Gabriel, just walk away. Do not look back, for your very heart depends upon it.

  Diana watched Gabriel walk away as tears slipped silently down her cheeks. He did not look back even once, his back and shoulders ramrod straight. Diana reached up and touched her lips, the feel of him still lingering on her sensitive flesh.

  How can anyone show such passion and fire, then turn so cold?

  Her heart and mind were so confused that she felt as if she could not bear to enter the house in her current state, so she turned and walked around the house to the gardens beyond, completely ignoring Gabriel’s advice to bathe and rest.

  She walked until she came to the rose hedge at the base of the garden, then sat down in the grass behind it, blocked from the view of the house. She did not need her tears to be witnessed by the prying eyes of the household staff or the Dowager Marchioness. She was not harmed in any way physically from what happened in the forest as Gabriel had been most gentle, but her heart was in tatters.

  How can the one time in my life that I find love be with a man that is completely forbidden to me? Why could I not have fallen for the Earl? It certainly would have been more convenient for all concerned.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling to wet the collar of her jacket and blouse. A breeze swept across her cheeks causing the wet tears to turn cold against her skin. Diana reached up to brush them away and came away with dirt smeared across her hand and face.

  How am I supposed to hide this from the Dowager Marchioness? I suppose that I have a good excuse in having just been hunting, but she will be greatly displeased if she sees me in such disarray.

  Diana arose and walked over to the fountain at the center of the garden. She splashed some of the cascading water up over her face and hands attempting to scrub away the dirt, but without a mirror she was unable to tell whether it made any difference.

  At the very least it will wash away any evidence of my errant tears.

  Squaring her shoulders, Diana prepared herself to face the household staff. Entering through the back servants’ entrance, Diana followed the same path through the house that Gabriel had showed her before when they had entered late, unnoticed. She somehow made it up to her room without being stopped and met Frances in the doorway.

  “What happened?” Frances came rushing forward, taking in her disheveled state. “You are undone, My Lady!”

  Diana looked down at herself, having forgotten that Gabriel had unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and jacket when she had felt faint.

  “I was unhorsed in the forest, but Gabriel managed to save me from injury.”

  “I see,” Frances mused, eyeing her neckline suspiciously.

  “I felt faint and he was afraid that I might fall prey to it.”

  “I see,” Frances repeated, her tone that of a questioning governess instead of a friend and lady’s maid.

  Diana frowned and pushed past her into the room, discarding her dirty riding habit as she went. A bath had not yet been prepared, as she had arrived much sooner than had been predicted, with her own hunt being cut short.

  “Please send down to the kitchen for some hot water for my bath.”

  “Of course, My Lady,” Frances inclined her head and left the room.

  Diana had not meant to be so curt in her manner, but Frances’ inquiries, spoken and unspoken, into what had transpired with Gabriel was undesired at best. Sighing, Diana finished disrobing, then wrapped herself in her dressing gown while she awaited her bath. She stared down at her dirt-stained clothes piled upon the floor and remembered the feel of Gabriel lowering her down to the forest floor, his strong muscled arms wrapped around her body in reassuring warmth.

  She already missed the feel of him and regretted their parting.

  I should have gone on to the stables with him. I should not have allowed us to part without properly discussing what transpired between us. I know that we cannot be together, I have no illusions of that…

  She paused her thoughts, realizing that she was lying to herself. She did have illusions of a life with him, an impossible life,
that would do nothing but bring about their mutual ruin.

  Sitting down in her bedside chair, Diana leaned her head back against the upholstery and closed her eyes. She had not meant to fall asleep, but she must have as she was suddenly awakened by Frances’ return. A parade of maids entered with steaming pitchers of water and two footmen carried the tub between them. Frances’ eyebrows arched in surprise to see her mistress clad in nothing but her dressing gown and rushed to cover her with a blanket.

  Diana groggily sat up. “Thank you, Frances.”

  “My Lady,” Frances nodded in respect, then went about her duties.

  Diana felt guilty for having put a rift between them. She knew that she was the one in the wrong and Frances’ only concern was for Diana’s own happiness and security. It had not been fair of Diana to take her own heartbreak out on her servant, especially one that was her dearest friend in all the world.

  I will make it right with her. I am not certain how, but I will.

  Chapter 15

  Gabriel returned Diana’s horse to the stable and her weapons to the rack in the manor house library, being sure to rub down and clean each one. He debated whether to return to the hunt or simply to wait for the hunting party’s return. Part of him wished to return to the excitement of the hunt, but another part of him wished to remain close to Diana in case she needed him, while still yet another part of him knew that he should put as much distance between them as possible.

  In the end, the choice was taken from him as Adam, one of his fellow stable hands, came barreling down the drive with his coat covered in blood. Gabriel smiled, thinking that they must have had a very good hunt indeed, until he saw the stable hand’s face.

  “There has been an accident,” Adam breathed heavily. “It is the Marquess and he needs you to come with the wagon immediately.”

  “The wagon will not pass safely through the trees. Can he be carried out of the forest to the wagon?”

  “I do not know, but I fear that we do not have any other choice. It is truly terrible, and we must hurry.”

  Gabriel ran to the stable, harnessed the horses, and followed Adam as close as they could get to the site of the accident. Jumping down from the wagon, Gabriel followed Adam through the trees. What he saw upon arriving chilled him to his very bones. Upon seeing the Marquess’ prone bloodied form lying on the ground, his chest heaving in an effort to get enough air, Gabriel raced to his side and fell to his knees. “My Lord!”

  “Gabriel,” the Marquess gasped out.

  “Do not try to speak. We will get you back to the manor house as soon as we possibly can.” Gabriel appraised the Marquess’ injuries as best as he could without causing him any more pain than was absolutely necessary, but blood was everywhere, making it even more difficult to ascertain exactly where it was all coming from.

  “What happened?” he asked the Earl, who was sitting on the ground at the Marquess’ head, his face pale and drawn, his hands shaking.

  “We had felled the deer and had moved to dress it. We were certain that it was dead when it suddenly reared its head, catching the Marquess by the inner thigh.” At this the Earl looked as if he might be ill, his pallor turning green at the memory of the incident.

  Gabriel frowned and turned back to the Marquess. He lifted the Earl’s coat, which had been placed over the Marquess’ lower region, and found the source of the bleeding. A deep gash on his inner thigh from where the stag’s antlers had ripped through his breeches and torn the flesh beneath was bleeding profusely.

  Gabriel wadded up the Earl’s coat and pressed it against the Marquess’ wound in an attempt to staunch the flow. Grabbing a length of vine from a nearby plant, he tied the vine around the coat and leg to hold it in place. Taking another length of vine, he tied it on the leg above the wound.

  “What are you doing?” the Earl asked, frowning in concern.

  “I am tying a tourniquet. It should help slow the flow of blood from the wound until we get him back to the house.”

  “Where did you learn to do such a thing?”

  “My grandfather was a soldier. He saw the procedure performed on the battlefield and taught my father and I how to do it.” Gabriel motioned for the other stable hands to move forward and aid him in lifting the Marquess up from the ground. The Earl, still in shock, took a moment before scrambling up from the ground to help. Between the four of them, they were able to heft the nobleman up as carefully as possible and carried him slowly but surely out of the forest to the waiting wagon.

  “Hold on, My Lord,” Gabriel murmured into his master’s ear. “We will get you to the house as quickly as possible. Please, just hold on.” His heart raced with fear that the Marquess might not make it in time.

  They lifted the Marquess into the waiting wagon and Gabriel climbed up onto the seat to gather the reins. The Earl climbed up next to him on the seat.

  “Will he live?” The Earl’s hands trembled, and his skin still held the pallor of shock. “Is there anything that I can do?”

  “Pray, My Lord. Pray.”

  Diana was soaking in the bath when she heard shouts echoing through the house. Frances came bursting through the door, her face as pale as the moon. “It is the Marquess! He has been wounded!”

  “What? How? When?” Diana scrambled up out of the tub and hurriedly threw on her clothing without bothering to dry herself. The result was uncomfortable, but Diana did not care. Her fear for the Marquess was driving her out of her room and down the stairs, in time to see his body being carried in by Gabriel, the Earl, and two other stable hands.

  They carried the Marquess into the library and laid him down upon the chaise lounge. Gabriel began calling out orders for hot water, clean linens, a needle, and a lit candle to be brought to him immediately. He requested that one of the stable hands, whom he called Adam, bring his father to him from the stables. To Diana’s surprise, the staff jumped into action, doing everything that Gabriel asked of them, the butler included.

  When the stablemaster came running after being summoned, he knelt down beside his son. They exchanged a few quiet words, then the stablemaster nodded and arose to speak quietly with the butler. Diana could not hear what was being said, but the butler nodded and left the room. The stablemaster left the house but returned shortly after with what appeared to be long strands of horsehair. The butler reentered, carrying a large decanter of spirits.

  “What are you going to do?” Diana asked, not wishing to be in the way, but truly confounded as to what had happened in the forest and was happening now.

  “I am going to clean and sew the wound shut.”

  “Should we not call for a physician?”

  “By the time one could travel to Westwallow, the Marquess could bleed to death.”

  Horror gripped Diana’s heart at his words. “What can I do to be of help?”

  “You can pray.”

  Once Gabriel had all of the supplies that he needed, he took the needle and held it in the candle flame for several moments. He took the decanter of spirits and poured some into a glass then swirled the needle around in the liquid. He then ran the horsehair through the spirits and strung it through the eye of the needle. Taking a deep breath, he unbound the vine and coat from the Marquess’ leg.

  Taking his knife, Gabriel cut the cloth of the breeches away from the wound, then poured the contents of the decanter over the gash, washing away the blood and dirt. The Marquess had lost consciousness as they had moved him out of the forest and had not awoken since. Though this was disconcerting to all those watching, it was a blessing for the Marquess not to have to feel what Gabriel was about to do to him.

  “Father,” Gabriel spoke quietly to signal that it was time. The stablemaster nodded and stepped forward to aid in holding the wound closed while Gabriel sewed the flesh back together. He knew it was a risk and that the Marquess might die anyway, but he would do everything in his power to prevent it from happening. His grandfather had taught him well with the knowledge that he had gained on the batt
lefields of France, but he had only ever needed to use his skills on horses thus far, not men.

  Gabriel inserted the needle in the torn flesh and began to sew with single-minded purpose, blocking everything else out but the task at hand. He wished that there was a skilled surgeon available to do what he was doing now, and with better materials, but there was not.

  “You are doing well, son,” his father’s voice filtered through to reassure him.

  “What are you doing to my son?!” the Dowager Marchioness’ shrill voice demanded from behind him.

  The Earl of Appley stepped forward and stopped the Dowager Marchioness from interfering with Gabriel’s efforts.

  “He is attempting to save your son’s life.”