by Gloria Gay
“Yes, mum, they are thick. Right at Rolling Hills they talked in the village, close together in that little tea shop owned by the two sisters, the Misses Lilanters.”
“The village? How did you happen to go there, Mary?”
“I went with Clarice, mum, to get Lady Dalmont’s ribbons.”
“I didn’t even know Shackel was in the area,” said Cecilia. “He was not invited to Rolling Hills, I am certain, because if he had been, he would have attended. Few would reject an invitation. It would be tantamount to losing your vouchers to Almack’s. He must have been lurking in the area to speak with Lady Rolande. I like this business less and less, Mary. Keep your eyes and ears open. I believe it was either Hedra or Lady Rolande who locked me in the room to keep me from the ball.”
“I, too, mum. And now that you mention it, I also saw Lady Rolande and Shackel together in Bond Street that day you and me went to pick up your chip bonnet, the one with the plaid ribbon. Do you remember it being in the morning?”
“Yes, about nine.”
“Why would they be together so early in the morning, I wonder? Mary, do you remember anything else about their being together?”
“They came out of a building, looked both ways and then Shackel helped Lady Rolande into his carriage and they sped away.”
“What building was that, do you remember?”
“The one that’s one building off from Henrietta StreetThe Cavenley Arms, I think.”
“Um.” Cecilia looked at the small ormolu clock they had brought with them.
“Well, we’ll talk about this later, Mary. Tell no one about our conversations on this subject.”
“Nothing I speak with you about do I ever share with anyone, mum. It was likewise when my mother was your Mama’s lady’s maid and so it’ll be with me.”
“Thank you, Mary. It has been quite some time since Ethan left, has it not, and still he has not returned, either to tell us when to expect our supper or to have it brought to us.”
“You want I go down and look for him, mum?”
“Would you, Mary? But will you be safe? I don’t want you in any danger. This is a scruffy crossroads with all sorts of people coming and going.”
“Especially Lord Shackel’s sort,” said Mary with grin, and added “I’ll be all right, mum. I can take care of myself.”
Mary took out a knife from the pocket of her ample skirt and showed it to Cecilia.
“All right, Mary,” laughed Cecilia. “I suppose you do know how to take care of yourself, but don’t be long. Meanwhile, I shall help Papa out of his dusty clothes. Elgin was unable to travel with us due to an illness in his family.”
“Let me help you before I go, mum. Two can do the job faster.”
“All right, Mary, but let's do it quickly, for I am now beginning to worry over Ethan. When it’s not one thing it’s another.”
CHAPTER 26
An hour had passed and Cecilia paced back and forth. Her father was resting peacefully and comfortably on the bed but now it was Cecilia who was extremely restless. Sitting by the window in the little sitting-room, then going back to check on her father. Then repeating the same thing over again.
Where was Ethan? And why had Mary not come back in a reasonable amount of time? One hour was far too long to have gone looking for Ethan. Finally, Cecilia heard a scratch at the door and ran to it. Without thinking much about it and relieved that finally either Ethan or Mary had come back she opened the door wide open and stared aghast at Shackel.
“Mr. Shackel!”
“You sound surprised, Miss Sentenell, were you expecting someone else?”
“I was certainly not expecting you, Mr. Shackel,” said Cecilia annoyed. And what business did he have at their door, when she had specifically told him a few hours before that she would be unable to visit with him?
“I was expecting either Mary, my abigail, or our head rider, Ethan.”
“I can help you with half of that, at least, Miss Sentenell.”
“What do you mean, Mr. Shackel?”
“May I come in? We can hardly stand here in the hallway talking.”
“No, Mr. Shackel, you may not come in,” Cecilia said firmly. “Papa is asleep. It would not be proper for you to enter when he is not awake to chaperone.”
“I see,” said Shackel with an ugly twist of his mouth.
“Well, then, Miss Sentenell, I shall have to give you the information right here. Your head rider was involved in a drunken brawl. He is at present unconscious in an alcohol haze. I recognized him as your rider and asked the innkeeper not to throw him out of the tap room as he had every intention of doing. I don't believe he will be of service to you this evening.”
“Ethan drunk! But that's not possible. He rarely drinks. Why he's the most helpful and“
“He'll be unable to help you on this occasion, Miss Sentenell,” interrupted Shackle so that Cecilia felt a shiver of fear run over her skin as Shackle stared down at her.
“He may not be but I certainly shall.” Lord Arandale’s voice behind Shackel, startled both Cecilia and Shackel.
“Arandale!” Shackel was clearly not pleased with this development.
But Cecilia certainly was. She was ecstatic, if the truth were told. Never had she been happier to see anyone in her life as she was at this moment to see Lord Arandale. In fact, she was quite certain that if Lord Arandale had proposed at that very moment, she would have accepted on the spot! Such was the trust and relief he now inspired in her.
“Lord Arandale,” she said, “how glad I am to see you! I must entreat your help in the situation I find myself in.”
Shackel stared at Cecilia with raised eyebrows and then turned to Arandale. “Miss Sentenell had just entreated my help, Arandale. And, as we are related, I believe she should be helped by her own family.”
“Perhaps we should allow Miss Sentenell to decide whose help she wants,” said Lord Arandale.
At that moment, Mary came up to them, running.
“Ah, what a relief,” said Cecilia, “here is Mary at last.” Then she turned to both men. She looked at Shackel.
“Thank you for your offer of help, Mr. Shackel, but I will not be requiring it. I accept Lord Arandale’s offer, instead.”
“As you wish,” said Shackel, his eyes white with rage. He turned on his heel and left.
“I will see to your head rider, Miss Sentenell,” said Arandale, and then I shall see about your supper, for I imagine with all this going on you have not had your supper?”
“No—nor time to think of it, said Cecilia with immense relief. “But I do believe Papa should eat as soon as we can procure it.”
“I shall return shortly. Please lock the door until my return, Miss Sentenell.”
“Mary” said Cecilia when they had locked the door and turned to the room. “I cannot believe I have ever been happier to see anyone in my life than when Lord Arandale seemed to appear out of nowhere.”
“Mum, I, too, am happy. He does take over, don’t he? And now, I shall tell you what I have learnedand it ain’t pretty.”
“Tell me quick, Mary,” said Cecilia. “You were gone for so long and I was so worried. Has it to do with Ethan?”
“Yes, mum. I got the story straight from a footman of one of the gentry staying the night at the Inn. He told me he saw how Ethan was pushed, then knocked down.”
“By who.”
“He didn’t know. Two men was all he knew to tell. Then the two men carried him unconscious. I ran out to look for him and didn’t find him anywhere. I then went looking for the innkeeper but he just shoved me aside, saying he knew nothing. But when he had gone his missus leaned over and whispered to me, scared like.”
“What?
“She said he was out in the stables—that Ethan was in the stables. I ran there and found him, Miss. He was drunk and lying unconscious.”
“How did you know he was drunk?”
“Because I leaned over to see if he was alive and he reeked of
rum or something.”
“Ethan seldom drinks. Maybe a little ale at Christmas, but not much else,” said Cecilia. “Papa had particularly commented on it, and on how reliable he is.”
“That he is. Well, then, what do you think happened, Miss Cecilia?”
“Every time something strange happens either Lady Rolande or Shackel are around,” said Cecilia. I tend to believe Alex Shackel had something to do with it. There was an ugly look to his eyes when I told him I did not require his help.
“The more I see that man the more I dislike him, Mary.
“Papa, you are awake. I’m glad you dozed off, though, for there was no food to be got two hours ago with all the commotion.”
“Commotion? What happened?”
“I believe Ethan was accosted by vandals, Papa, while Sam and Jonathon were seeing to the horses in the stables, but thankfully, Lord Arandale is seeing to him now. I begin to believe that there is nothing Lord Arandale cannot put to rights. I cannot even fathom the dislike I had for him at one time. He is all that is desirable and manly. Papa, he takes charge with perfect ease.”
“I always thought so,” said her father, looking a bit more refreshed than when they first arrived, having had a restoring little nap. “He saw to it that the axle of our coach was repaired in less time than it would have taken had he not taken charge.
CHAPTER 27
“But you say he is here, and anxious to be of help to you, my dear,” asked her father, looking pleased.
“I think he was stopping here on his way to London and became aware of our predicament. How it was he became aware of it is not hard to guess. Blue Raven Inn is at the junction. Whatever happens in the two towns adjoining is quickly learned by everyone at the Inn. He offered his help, being a courteous gentleman that he is. And I believe there is a certain animosity between him and Shackel, so his dislike of him may have also influenced his decision to aid to us than as a reason purely on our account.” Cecilia was already walking back her elation at seeing Arandale.
“Well, I hope not. And really, my dear, you have an unfortunate habit of imagining what people’s motives are and then acting on what you have made yourself believe. I believe that is how you talked yourself out of a very fine alliance with Lord Arandale,” said Sir Geoffrey. “I really believe it was a mistake to reject Lord Arandale’s offer of marriage, my dear.”
“Your assessment of my character may be very near the mark, Papa,” laughed Cecilia, a bit nervously, “but you cannot escape the fact that Lord Arandale also impressed me with his behavior at the places I ran into him in London, such as Hyde Park. His behavior there left nothing for my imagination. It was stark bare abominable behavior and you cannot counter that. On the occasion when we saw him with his mistress in his phaeton in Hyde Park, he could barely lead his bays, as his arms were occupied in hugging the woman and kissing her in a flaunting, horrid way.
“He is reputed to run with the Prince’s fast crowd in Brighton and to keep all hours of the night in drinking and gambling.”
“Yet you cannot fault his behavior now,” said Sir Geoffrey.
“I admit that I have come to think better of Lord Arandale and may not have wanted to admit to you, Papa, that for some time now Lord Arandale has changed for the better, but hindsight is perfect vision, is it not?”
“I had perfect vision before your hindsight,” laughed Sir Geoffrey, although a bit faintly. “I always thought him to have great strength of character, however much he hid it beneath the veneer of bad conduct and bad company.”
Cecilia was elated to see her father in good spirits, even so faintly, for it was the first sign of recovery she had seen in a long time.
“Ah, Papa,” she said, her eyes welling in tears, “had I known of the seriousness of your illness before I rejected Lord Arandale, I would not have done so.”
Her father depended entirely on her now. She would not act like a widgeon in his moment of need. She must be strong and though at times she may indeed feel frantic, she should never let on. Indeed, she should shake herself off any feelings of helplessness for good and forever. Such words must not ever have room in her life.
Women might indeed be reared to be helplessly dependent on men and seldom able to fend on their own but she would be different. From this moment on, her vocabulary would hold only words full of strength and decision in reference to herself. She could not, would not do anything that would weaken her resolve to carry on in her father’s place.
Having resolved this, Cecilia felt a sudden surge of strength run through her like a gust of fresh air and she turned to her father.
“Papa, you must rest now. Lord Arandale is to arrange for our supper and I want you to gather strength so that you may partake of the meal he is procuring for us.”
“Yes, dear,” said her father, “and I find that I do have a bit of an appetite.”
“I’m glad,” said his daughter with a sigh of relief.
Cecilia went to the window and through the side slit of the drapes glanced out to the large courtyard where there was a lot of activity. She saw a large carriage leaving and the mail coach arriving. There were also two riders conversing by a curricle that was being taken to the stables.
Night had fallen and the air was the crisp of early spring.
“I hear someone coming up the stairs,” said Cecilia, turning to her father and noticed that he had fallen asleep. She went over, kissed his forehead and covered him with a warm blanket. A knock at the door made her glance up.
“Miss Sentenell?” Cecilia recognized Lord Arandale’s voice and quickly flung the door open. Mary had rushed over to her side.
Two of the Inn's serving girls walked behind Lord Arandale and they were laden with large trays. Lord Arandale directed them to place the trays on the table by the window in the sitting room and when they had left, Mary proceeded to set the table.
“You will dine with us, my lord?” asked Cecilia, wondering why it was that it was now her heart that seemed to be held in suspense.
“Yes, Miss Sentenell, and thank you. I have not had time for it. I have brought enough for all of us. You will be glad to hear that I have seen to it that Ethan is safely installed in the small room with Sam and Jonathon. His head wound has been dressed and he is resting comfortably. Sam has assured me he will take care of him through the night. I have also advised them to put a plank across the door.”
“I cannot begin to express my deep gratitude to you for all you have done, Lord Arandale,” said Cecilia. “I don’t want to think how we would have fared without your aid.”
“I'm glad to have been of service, Miss Sentenell. Will your father be able to dine with us?”
“Papa is asleep, my lord. And I shall let him sleep, as his health has been precarious of late. There is enough time for him to dine when he awakens. He will sleep only for a little bit, as his sleep patterns have been disrupted by his illness.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” said Lord Arandale as Cecilia directed him to the small table by the window, where the efficient Mary had already arranged their supper and moved to the other room to partake of her own meal.
“Please sit down, my lord. I know that you must be very hungry, as the hour is late. All the events of this day have contributed to make our supper very late.”
Lord Arandale helped Cecilia to her chair and then took the chair opposite. Glancing at her in the light of two candles, he asked how her father fared.
“He is a little better, my lord, although not much more. I am afraid our journey has exhausted him. I am only thankful this is the last leg of the journey. Tomorrow, hopefully, we will be back in London and in the quiet of the house perhaps he can gain back a little of his strength. It is so dangerous to travel.”
“Yes, even more so since the war stopped and the soldiers were dismissed from their regiments.There are so many unemployed men suddenly thrust on the streetsclose to half a million. When they find no work many of them turn to crime. I try to give work to as many as
my estate will hold.”
“You were in London two years ago when Napoleon escaped from Elba?”
“Yes. And thank God he only lasted a year after that,” said Lord Arandale. “That was when I joined Wellington again. I had served as a cavalry officer when I was a lot younger, at the beginning of the war. I was with Wellington when he learned the Danish army was about to be seized so he ordered the bombing of the Danish fleet.”
Cecilia listened intently. She loved the color of his eyes and the way they lifted a little at the corners, making them very appealing.
“The whole thing, lasting many years, a lot of blood spilled and fortunes lost, was for naught,” Arandale was saying. “The map of the world, for a few years re-drawn by Napoleon, is once more almost back to its original borders.”
“How long were you an officer in the Regiments, my lord?”
“Three years. Six years earlier I went with Wellington to Portugal when we made the treaty with Spain. Napoleon could never get a handle on Spain, to his frustration. Spain was a sieve and Napoleon was helpless against stubborn guerillas in the countryside that were fiercely nationalistic and spit on Napoleon's name.”
“So you were in Spain.”
“Yes, and I enjoyed my time in Spain,” said Arandale, “very much. “A brave beautiful country,” he added. I will go back there some day. Please forgive me, Miss Sentenell. I haven't talked about my days with the army with anyone. Please stop me if you get bored.”
“Not in the least. Please go on with what you were saying, my lord, I find it fascinating. I didn't know you had fought alongside Wellington. What sort of a leader was he?”
“He was the answer to Napoleon's ambition, Miss Sentenell. Providence usually supplies the antidote.”
“Cromwell to Charles I?” asked Cecilia.
“That antidote nearly killed us,” laughed Arandale.
