The Earl's Runaway Bride

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘When I was young the events at Rosthorne Hall were on a much grander scale,’ she stated, fixing Nathan with an accusing stare. ‘All the principal rooms would be opened up and the house would be full of guests. Although I admit that this year the country is exceedingly thin of company. If Lady Ansell had been in residence you could have invited her.’

  ‘No, ma’am, I could not,’ retorted Felicity. She added, aware of the surprised glances of her guests, ‘I am not well acquainted with the lady.’

  ‘No more are we,’ put in Mrs Elliston. ‘My husband does not wish for the connection. The lady has a reputation for being rather fast.’

  ‘Is that so, Rosthorne?’ demanded Lady Charlotte. ‘I believe you knew Lady Ansell when you were in the Peninsula.’

  Felicity risked a quick glance in Nathan’s direction. His face was quite impassive.

  ‘Yes, she was in Corunna.’ Nathan’s tone was slightly bored. ‘She was Mrs Craike then, but I believe she was quite a favourite with the officers.’

  ‘I wonder that she should choose to live here,’ mused Mrs Carraway. ‘Hazelford is very quiet, and there are few enough single gentlemen to attract her interest.’

  ‘Perhaps it is not a single gentleman who interests her,’ muttered Felicity.

  Nathan’s head came up. ‘Would you care to explain that remark, my dear?’

  She flushed under his searching gaze and was relieved that her mother-in-law had not noticed the interruption and was continuing with her own conjectures.

  ‘I do not like to think that any gentleman of our acquaintance would set up such a liaison.’ Mrs Carraway laughed. ‘Imagine respectable Dr Farnham being caught in her web, or even the vicar!’

  Mr Elliston harrumphed in disapproval and stalked away.

  ‘You may rest easy, then,’ replied Gerald, smiling. ‘Your speculation is very wide of the mark—Mama had a letter from Lady Ansell to say she is not returning to Godfrey Park, but means to remain in Bath.’

  ‘Which is very inconvenient,’ announced Lady Charlotte. ‘There are few enough families of note in this area with whom one can dine.’

  Mr Elliston, who was standing at the unshuttered window, announced that he was anxious to set off in good time for West Meon.

  ‘This wind shows no sign of abating,’ he said, ‘and I fear there may be a few trees blown down before morning.’

  A particularly fierce gust of wind rattled the window at that moment, giving substance to his argument, and the party broke up shortly afterwards, with Gerald escorting the ladies to their coach.

  ‘I was tempted to saddle up and ride back with them,’ he said, coming back into the drawing room. ‘I would like to be sure they have a safe journey.’

  ‘Their way lies mainly through the valley, which will afford them some shelter,’ said Nathan. He raised his head as a door slammed somewhere in the house. ‘I will have Mercer check all the shutters tonight.’

  ‘Yes, please do.’ Lady Charlotte beckoned to her son. ‘Give me your company to my door, please, Gerald. These stormy nights are very alarming.’

  ‘I did not think that anything could alarm Lady Charlotte,’ remarked Felicity, when Mr Appleby had escorted his mother away.

  Mrs Carraway chuckled. ‘Nor does it. The woman has nerves of steel.’ She struggled to her feet, leaning heavily upon her stick. ‘I think I shall retire now.’

  Felicity jumped up. ‘Then let me give you my arm, ma’am,’ she said. ‘We will leave Nathan to make sure the house is secure.’

  Walking back a short time later, Felicity was obliged to use her hand to shield the flame of her bedroom candle, for the howling wind seeped into the house and whined along the dark corridors. She was relieved when she reached her own chamber and lost no time getting into bed and blowing out her candle. She lay tense and nervous under the covers, listening to the storm battering the house. There was a crash as something smashed on the terrace below her window and a growl of thunder added its own menace to the darkness. Felicity curled herself into a ball and snuggled down beneath the bedcovers. Finally, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

  Once he had make a last tour of the house, Nathan too retired, but sleep eluded him. He tossed restlessly in his bed. The storm would almost certainly do some damage. He had already heard the sounds of a pot or a tile shattering on the terrace and he hoped the young trees on his plantation would survive. He turned over. He could do nothing about it until it was daylight.

  A sudden cry caught his attention. He sat up. The sound had come from Felicity’s room. He heard her cry out again. Reaching for his tinder box, he fumbled to light his candle, then, pulling on his dressing gown, he went across to the connecting door. As he stepped into the room the door from the corridor opened and the maid appeared, holding aloft her candle with a shaking hand.

  ‘Ooh, excuse me, m’lord, I heard m’lady calling out…’

  They both looked towards the shadowed bed where Felicity lay restlessly muttering.

  ‘It is all right, Martha,’ said Nathan quietly. ‘I will look after my lady.’

  With a little curtsy the maid withdrew. A sudden gust of wind rattled the window shutters and the flame of his candle flickered wildly. Felicity muttered and gave another anguished sob. Nathan moved towards the bed.

  ‘Felicity.’

  Nathan put the candle down beside the bed. Her eyes were closed and she thrashed out, throwing off the covers.

  ‘No, no. Leave me alone—Déjeme!’

  She was crying out in Spanish, just as she had done five years ago when he had rescued her from the robbers in Corunna. And just as he had done five years ago, Nathan climbed on to the bed and took her in his arms. She fought against him, but he held her close, muttering soothing words. She began to cry.

  ‘I have lost everything! There’s nothing left, nothing!’

  ‘Hush now.’ He stroked her head. ‘We can buy you new things.’

  ‘No, no, I have lost him!’ She was rambling wildly. ‘It is God’s punishment! Why must I live…?’

  ‘It is only a dream, Felicity. Wake up.’

  ‘It’s too late. I have lost him! If only God would let me die…’

  Nathan’s arms tightened about her. He said sharply, ‘I won’t let you die! Wake up, Felicity!’ She stopped fighting and he felt her flutter, like a little bird in his arms. ‘You are safe now, Fee,’ he murmured the words into her hair. ‘You are with me.’

  ‘I am so sorry, so sorry.’ She sobbed into his chest. ‘Don’t leave me!’

  Nathan settled himself more comfortably on the bed and pulled her against him. ‘Hush now. I will never leave you.’

  She continued to cry, great, wrenching sobs that racked her body. Nathan felt powerless to do anything but hold her. He pulled the covers over her shoulders to ward off the cold night air and remained there, cradling her in his arms while the storm raged at the windows.

  The candle had burned itself out before Felicity finally grew calm. She lay quietly in the darkness, her head resting against his heart. Nathan felt her stir.

  ‘Nathan?’

  ‘I’m here.’

  She pulled the sheet up to wipe her eyes. ‘I don’t deserve you,’ she murmured. ‘You have been so forbearing with me. I wish I knew why you are so good to me.’

  ‘You are my countess.’

  ‘I don’t deserve you,’ she said again, sleepily. ‘I don’t know why you should want me.’

  He smiled to himself.

  ‘Because you are irreplaceable,’ he murmured. ‘God knows I tried! All those stories they tell of me, the women, the broken hearts that litter Europe; I was trying to forget you, to prove to myself that you did not matter to me. But you do, Fee.’ He kissed her hair. ‘You matter very, very much.’

  She did not reply but lay against him, her breathing deep and regular.

  She was asleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Felicity did not wake up until Martha came into the room to open the shutters. The storm had
blown itself out and bright sunlight flooded the room. She stretched.

  ‘Is it very late? I had such dreams!’

  ‘The master said not to wake you early, m’lady.’

  ‘Oh, he was here?’ Felicity pulled the sheets around her. She remembered him holding her, but she had thought it part of her dream.

  ‘Yes, m’lady. He came in last night, when you was crying in your sleep. Terrible dreams you must have had, ma’am.’

  ‘Yes.’ Strangely, the horror of the night was gone and Felicity remembered only feeling safe and secure in Nathan’s arms.

  Martha stood beside the bed, smiling at her. ‘The master sends his compliments, madam, and says he will escort you down to breakfast in half an hour.’

  ‘Heavens, then we must be quick!’

  Felicity scrambled out of bed, bubbling with an equal measure of happiness and alarm. She was inordinately pleased that Nathan should want to attend her, but a nervousness remained about what she might have cried out during the night.

  When Nathan knocked at her door some thirty minutes later, Felicity was ready for him.

  ‘I fear I disturbed your sleep last night, my lord.’

  He took her hand. ‘Nigtmares,’ he said. ‘You were very distressed.’

  ‘And you stayed with me. I thank you for that.’ She gave him a smile.

  ‘Do you often have such bad dreams?’

  ‘No, not now. I think it was the storm that disturbed me.’ She hesitated, then said shyly, ‘I am very glad you were there, Nathan.’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘I shall always be there for you.’

  She accompanied Nathan down the stairs.

  ‘We are exceedingly late, sir. And it is Christmas Day—I very much fear we shall miss the morning service.’

  ‘I am certain of it.’ Nathan grinned at her. ‘I do not doubt that my mother has gone on without us, but we shall not be missed; my very regal Aunt Charlotte will more than make up for our absence!’ As they reached the hall Nathan paused. ‘You go on, my dear; I will slip down and speak to Collins. I want to know if there was much damage last night.’

  He strode off in the direction of the servants’ wing and Felicity made her way into the breakfast room. Bella came dashing up and Felicity bent to make a fuss of her.

  ‘So where have you escaped from?’ she murmured, fondling the spaniel’s soft ears. ‘Have they all gone off to church and left you here? Never mind, I will take you for a walk later.’

  Felicity straightened and went into the breakfast room with Bella capering around her. The room was empty, but even before she had taken her seat Mercer entered with a fresh pot of coffee. She had just filled her cup when Nathan came in. His warm smile made her toes curl with pleasure.

  A young footman hurried in with a plate of hot toast which he placed on the table.

  ‘Coffee, my lord?’ he asked reaching for the pot.

  ‘No, no, Toby, bring me some ale, if you please.’ Nathan sat down beside Felicity. ‘The crash we heard last night was one of the pots from the balcony shattering on the terrace. The shrub had grown too large and the wind caught it. Collins has already ridden over the park; we have lost a couple of trees but nothing more serious. I shall go out later, to check the damage for myself. Perhaps you would care to come with me?’

  ‘But, our guests…’

  ‘I think they can spare you to me for an hour.’

  ‘Then, yes, thank you. I should very much like to come with you.’

  Her eyes fell on Bella, who was scampering about the room. She opened her mouth to utter a warning, but it was too late—the footman was carrying Nathan’s tankard of ale upon a tray and did not see the little dog under his feet. Servant, tray and tankard crashed to the ground and Bella, delighted with the chaos she had created, hurried to lap up the frothing ale that was spilled on the floor.

  ‘Never mind, never mind.’ Nathan waved away the lackey’s anguished apologies. ‘Just go and find a cloth to mop up this mess. Leave that, Bella!’ He looked at Felicity and said severely, ‘And I would be obliged, madam, if you would refrain from laughing at my servant’s misfortune.’

  Felicity was not deceived; she saw the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and took her hands away from her own.

  ‘I should not, I know, and I shall be sober again by the time the poor man returns, I give you my word.’

  With a laugh Nathan took her face between his hands. ‘I love to see you so happy. I have missed your smiles.’ He kissed her, then sat back, glancing down at Bella.

  ‘Hmm, by the time Toby returns I think that damned dog may have licked the floor clean.’ He picked up his tankard from the floor and wiped the edge of it with his napkin. ‘I had best fetch my own ale while Bella is preoccupied.’

  Still glowing from his kiss, Felicity began to butter a piece of toast.

  ‘Thank goodness Lady Charlotte was not here to witness the accident,’ she remarked. ‘She would want poor Bella banned from the house! What a poor start to Christmas Day, I feel sure your mama will ring a peel over us when she—oh heavens—Nathan!’

  Felicity jumped to her feet, sending her chair toppling backwards. Nathan had just finished filling his tankard. He looked around. Felicity struggled to speak.

  ‘Look—Bella—’ She turned her horrified gaze towards the little dog, who was staggering across the floor, her legs giving way beneath her.

  ‘Nathan, what is it?’ whispered Felicity.

  The dog had collapsed on her side, her breathing laboured.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ He picked up the tankard and sniffed at it, frowning. ‘Poison. In the ale.’

  Nathan crossed the room to Bella in a couple of strides. Felicity looked down at the spaniel, who stared up at her with wide, frightened eyes. She put her hands to her mouth.

  ‘Is there nothing we can do?’

  ‘I have heard that coffee sometimes works.’

  Felicity reached for the coffee pot on the table, then put it down again. ‘This one will be better, it is cold,’ she said, running to the sideboard and picking up another silver pot.

  ‘Quickly then.’ Nathan cradled the little dog, forcing open her mouth while Felicity gently poured the coffee down her throat.

  Bella struggled, but Nathan held her firm.

  ‘I hope that’s a good sign,’ he muttered. ‘Try a little more.’

  ‘There is no more,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘Shall I fetch the other pot?’

  ‘No, wait.’ Nathan released the spaniel and moved away a little as she vomited.

  The footman, returning at that moment with a mop and bucket, stopped in the doorway, staring open mouthed at the scene before him.

  ‘Will she be all right?’ asked Felicity as Bella lay on the floor, panting heavily.

  ‘I cannot say.’ Nathan lifted Bella carefully into his arms. ‘I shall take her down to the stables. Patrick will know better than I how to doctor her.’ He turned to the servant. ‘Pick up my lady’s chair, if you please, and clear up the mess on the floor, but on no account allow anything else in the room to be touched.’

  Felicity started forward. ‘I shall come with you.’

  ‘No, I would prefer you to stay here and make sure no one comes into the breakfast room.’

  When Nathan had gone, Felicity sat back down at the table. Her appetite had quite disappeared; in fact, she felt a little sick, but she fought against it, and when the servant had gone she remained staring fixedly out through the open door, waiting for Nathan to return.

  The chimes of the long-case clock in the hall told Felicity that she had been sitting alone for only a half-hour, but it seemed a lifetime before Nathan came striding back towards her. He looked very grim, and her heart turned over.

  ‘Well?’ she said, hardly daring to breath.

  Nathan shifted his eyes to her face, as if recalled to the present and his frown lifted a little.

  ‘Patrick is hopeful she will recover. It seems we did the right thing.’

&
nbsp; ‘Thank heavens.’ She watched him pick up the jug of ale and pour a little into a clean water glass. He lifted it up to the light, then sniffed at it cautiously.

  ‘What is it, my lord?’

  He held the glass out to her. ‘What can you smell?’

  ‘I am not sure. Hops, perhaps…’ she wrinkled her nose ‘…and a faint, unpleasant odour…like mice.’

  ‘Quite.’ He put the glass back on the sideboard. ‘Hemlock, but the smell is so faint that anyone might quaff half a tankard before becoming aware of it. And poor old Bella, as we know, has very little sense of smell these days.’

  Felicity put her hands to her mouth. ‘If you had drunk it…’ she whispered, growing cold at the thought. ‘Who would do such a thing?’

  He took her hands and sat down beside her.

  ‘There is a bottle of hemlock tincture in the stables,’ he said slowly. ‘You will recall my mare sprained a fetlock; Patrick used the tincture in the poultice he applied to bring down the swelling.’

  ‘Oh, dear heaven! Has the bottle disappeared?’

  ‘No, but Patrick thinks some of it may have been used. However, he cannot be sure.’

  ‘But who would want to do such a thing?’ she repeated.

  ‘Who would have the opportunity to put the hemlock into the ale?’ he countered. ‘I stopped at the kitchens on the way back and spoke to Mercer. He tells me he drew off some of the ale for himself this morning and he also filled the jug and carried it here. My mother and Lady Charlotte were already at breakfast when he brought it in.’

  ‘And the other servants?’

  He shook his head. ‘They are all local people and have worked here since they were children. I shall have to question them, but I cannot believe that any of them would be capable of such a trick.’

  ‘But if it is not a servant…’ She left the sentence unfinished and stared at him in horror. Nathan held her gaze.

  ‘Who was in this room when you came down this morning, Fee? Think carefully.’

  She frowned.

  ‘No one,’ she said. ‘Mercer followed me in with the coffee pot and placed it directly on the table, but he touched nothing on the sideboard.’