“They would have to! Why did you not stop Sir John? If you discussed it with him, did you not try to persuade him against it?”
“Yes, I did,” Agnes admitted. “And, because of what had gone before, he was prepared to desist but I realised that I could not do that, could not force him to act against his own judgment. Oh, pray, Louisa, do not be angry,” for she had seen her friend’s face contort with rage and disapproval; indeed for a moment she almost expected Louisa to hit her. “He is a grown man; I cannot, should not, attempt to force him to act against his own conscience. In any event, if anyone is going to die today it will be he because he has no intention of killing Danehill, so I think you can stop working yourself into a spasm. Why do you not go home and wait for news, and I will wait here, and the first one to hear anything will run and tell the other?”
“Come with me,” Louisa begged, some of the fury draining from her countenance as she accepted her friend’s reasoning.
“But John may be brought here,” Agnes said.
“Why are you calling him John?” Louisa asked, for the first time noticing not only that her friend’s anxiety was quite as great as her own but also the new familiarity in the other woman’s speech.
“We – he kept repeating that, because he is so poor – and so of course am I – he could not ask me to marry him; so I asked him.”
“And he accepted?”
“Yes. Last night.”
“Oh, my dear; I hope you will be very happy.”
“I hope we will have a future of some sort other than my following his coffin,” Agnes said bitterly.
“I asked Danehill yesterday,” Louisa said.
Agnes stared at her open-mouthed. “After I had told you about his conduct?”
Louisa nodded.
“What was his answer?”
“He accepted and spoke to Papa yesterday.”
“Then I am sure I wish you happy,” Agnes said rather shortly.
“He does not love me; he loves my fortune; I should not think we will be happy at all but I want him – Agnes, nothing will do for me but to have him even if he treats me badly and breaks my heart!”
“Oh, I shouldn’t think he will. I don’t doubt you’ll be able to deal with him but following him to the site of the duel and attempting to stop him at the last moment is not the best way to manage him – at least, I would not have thought so.”
This piece of advice, coming from the woman with whom Danehill had fallen in love, did not find favour with Louisa. She shut her mouth in a thin line and turned away, saying, “I will go home then.”
“I’m sorry,” Agnes said, going to her. “I did not mean to criticise. But, yes, go home now and, when you know what has happened, let me know. I don’t feel able to leave here now, not when he may be brought back …” Her voice died away.
As she opened the front door, both noticed that dawn had fully broken while they were speaking. The eastern sky was a curdled orange.
“I think it’ll rain again later,” Louisa said and went out.
Agnes watched her as she turned back through the side gate to walk across the fields and followed her with her eyes until she disappeared from view.
Louisa began to run as soon as she thought she was out of sight. By the time she reached her own house, her shoes were soaked and her dress wet to the knees but, arriving breathless at the stables, she asked whether the Marquess’s carriage had gone out already.
“Oh, yes, Miss,” the groom said at once. “He left before dawn.”
“Was he alone?”
“No, Miss; Lord Hersham was with him.”
“Did they say where they were going?”
“No, but they did say they wouldn’t be more than an hour or two, so they should be back any minute now.”
“Did you see which way they went?”
The groom having no idea since, whichever way they had been bound, they would have to follow the drive to its end first, Louisa asked for the horses to be harnessed to the curricle without delay; she would wait, she said, when asked if she would like the vehicle brought to the front door.
“But, Miss,” the groom said, “would it not be advisable to change your gown – and shoes? You are very wet.”
“There is no time,” she snapped. “Pray don’t stand around talking but make haste to do as you are bid.”
Chapter 39
When the curricle was brought out, she set off at such speed that the junior groom who was to accompany her was left clinging to the back by the tips of his fingers. She did not even glance round so that he wondered, as he swung himself up on to his accustomed perch at the back, if she even knew he was there. Still having no idea where she would find the duellists, she made her way towards the cottage. She could not go alone; Agnes must be with her.
“Where would you go to fight a duel?” she shot at the groom as they hurtled down the lane.
“Up by the copse, Miss. There’s a nice flat piece of land there, not far off the road but hidden by trees. Is that where his lordship’s gone, Miss?”
“I think so. We have no time to lose but first I must pick up Miss Helman.”
Arriving at the small house, she jumped down and flung the reins to the groom, telling him to turn the vehicle and wait; she would not be above a minute. Running up the small path to the front door, she found it had been bolted again and rapped upon it impatiently. It was opened almost before she had removed her knuckles by a white-faced Agnes.
“You must come with me,” Louisa said in a voice which brooked no argument. “Bert has an idea where we might find them and I believe he’s right for they won’t be far from the road – after all a travelling carriage cannot drive across fields. If Sir John is going to be brought home in a carriage – or fly for the coast - we should find them before they leave even if we’re too late to stop it. Get in!”
“I’ll fetch my hat,” Agnes said, turning away.
“There is no time for such niceties – pray just come at once!”
“I cannot just disappear – what will her ladyship think if she finds neither her son nor me here? I’ll tell Jess.”
Louisa nodded impatiently and hurried back to the curricle where she took the reins while Agnes went into the kitchen.
When Agnes came out again, she found Louisa apparently holding the horses back with difficulty. It seemed that their driver’s mood had communicated itself to her steeds and they were fairly itching to be off.
They drove down the road at such a breakneck pace that Agnes had to cling to the seat for fear of being thrown out. Neither woman spoke, Louisa being entirely concentrated upon her driving and Agnes unable to get any words past the increasingly obstructive lump in her throat.
It was while they were hurtling down the road, some way past Louisa’s house, that they thought they detected the distant sound of two almost simultaneous shots, followed by an unnerving silence, broken after less than a minute by renewed and agitated birdsong.
“Oh, my God!” Louisa exclaimed. “One of them is dead!”
“Not necessarily,” Agnes managed in a squeak. “But we can be fairly sure we’re going the right way,” she added.
“It’s not far now,” Louisa said. “I wish I’d asked Bert before where he thought they might be! Ken denied having the least idea which way they might have gone when anybody with any sense would have guessed they meant to fight a duel.”
Agnes didn’t answer but a moment later, said, “Look! There they are – two, no three, carriages!”
“One must be the doctor,” Louisa said, taking the curricle, with no apparent diminution in speed, on to the already flattened grass towards the three carriages, which were drawn up in the shade of a small copse.
It was not long since they had heard the shots and they saw, as they jumped out of the curricle and ran towards the group of men, that one – presumably the doctor – was bent over what could only be a fallen man on the ground and two were running backwards and forwards between that figure and ano
ther, which lay some yards away.
“Oh, what has happened?” Louisa cried. “Are they both dead? How can they be?”
Mr Armitage, who was attending to one of the fallen men, turned at the sound of her voice and shouted, “Neither is dead!”
“Oh!” she cried, “Oh!” and, seeing that Mr Armitage was squatting beside his brother, who was by no means inert but sitting on the grass, ran on to the other body.
“Is he badly hurt?” she cried, reaching the Marquess, whose shirt was being ripped off his arm by the doctor while Lord Hersham was kneeling beside his friend.
“No,” Danehill responded. “What the devil are you doing here?”
“I was so afraid you would have been killed.”
She had reached the three men now and dropped down on her knees beside the wounded man.
“And what use would it have been your coming here if I had been?”
“None, only I could not bear to wait, knowing nothing, and I thought that perhaps, if you were not quite dead when I got here, I could – could – comfort you.”
“What an odd notion!” he exclaimed. “I own I had not thought of you as the type of woman to dispense comfort, but should I be flattered that you have rushed to my side?”
“What has happened to you?” she asked.
“He winged me – as I suppose he meant to – he doesn’t seem to have lost any of his skill with firearms. I’ll be perfectly all right; there’s no need for lamentations. Come here, then, and kiss me,” he added, his tone softening.
She moved up close and he put his uninjured arm around her and kissed her while the doctor laid bare the wound, observed that it was not serious and began to bind it up.
Agnes meanwhile had gone to Sir John, who still sat upon the ground, with his brother beside him. One of his sleeves was drenched in blood.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“Not much – Danehill’s bullet skimmed past me, grazing my arm. He deloped – or meant to – but my shot hit his arm as he was firing and his aim went awry. I’ve hurt him more than he’s hurt me – he didn’t mean to hit me at all.”
“Lord! Is that what you expected?”
“No; I’m quite surprised as a matter of fact. I made sure he would want to finish me off.”
“Do you think it was Louisa who persuaded him?”
“No, I think it was probably you – or rather your influence – and his decision, which I believe he had already made when I spoke to him, to reform. Is he to marry Louisa now – they seem very close?” He added, nodding towards the pair wrapped in each other’s arms some forty yards away.
“Yes.”
“I should think they will suit each other very well. Have you thought better of what we agreed last evening? I would understand if the night had brought wiser counsel.”
As he spoke, he got to his feet and drew her up beside him.
“No, of course I have not.”
“Thank God!”
The Marquess, still seated upon the ground with Louisa in his arms, looked across at his adversary, now entwined with Agnes, and said, “So that’s the way it is!”
“Yes; is it very painful to you?”
“No; much less than my arm. I’m more than happy with my choice.”
Agnes Or The Art 0f Friendship Page 33
