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Reunited with the Major

Page 17

by Anne Herries


  ‘I told yer, he ain’t here.’ The man proceeded to close the door, but Brock was too quick for him. He thrust his boot in the opening and then pushed against the door with all his might, forcing the man back.

  ‘You can’t do that,’ the groom blustered, trying to recover his balance even as Brock’s fist connected with his chin and he went down, lying with his eyes closed.

  Brock didn’t bother to look at him. The rogue would recover soon enough, but for the moment he could not interfere. Now, where to find Barchester? As he assessed the various doors, his question was answered by an angry voice calling out for someone called Barker.

  It came from a room upstairs and Brock started towards the stairs, a determined look on his face. He had reached the landing when he saw the Marquis come out of one of the reception rooms. Barchester was dressed in boots, breeches and a shirt, but no coat. He looked as if he had not yet shaved. In his hand was a sword, its blade gleaming as if he had been honing it. The expression on his face when he saw Brock was one of shock and disbelief, which swiftly changed to fury.

  ‘Damn you!’ he muttered. ‘So you worked it out for yourself, did you? I suppose that blasted woman told you what she’d ferreted out? Well, you’ve seen the place for yourself now so you cannot be allowed to leave here alive.’

  Even as Brock hesitated, the Marquis ran towards him, clearly intending to run him through. Brock went to meet him, reaching into his large coat pocket for his pistol. For a moment they stared at each other in deadly silence as the pistol was levelled and then the Marquis sneered, knowing that Brock was too much the gentleman to shoot first. He hesitated for a second and in that instant Barchester lunged.

  Brock felt the sharp blade pierce his left arm and swayed with the force of the impact, but his aim stayed true and, hearing the Marquis cry out, he knew that his ball had found its mark. He was aware of excruciating pain from the deep sword wound and a feeling of faintness; then, as he struggled to hold on to his senses he felt a crashing blow to his skull from behind and fell to the floor. The Marquis stood over him, his sword poised to strike the death blow, but then, hearing the sounds of shots and screams, he lowered his sword arm.

  ‘You’ll have to wait,’ he muttered, standing over Brock. ‘I’ve other matters to attend.’

  Brock had descended into an enveloping darkness as Barchester’s henchman struck him from behind, but his last conscious thought was of Samantha. He had never told her that he loved her.

  * * *

  ‘Take Miss Ross and go,’ Harris ordered Robert when they were clear of the house. ‘She is in your charge now. I’m going back for Major Brockley.’

  ‘But he said we were to get her away,’ Robert protested. He had his arm about Rosemarie, as she clung to him, her face pale and tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘If I take the curricle, what will you have for him?’

  ‘I’ll manage,’ Harris said urgently. ‘I’m not leaving without him. He saved my life more than once and I’ll not abandon him.’

  ‘Please, Robert, do as he asks,’ Rosemarie begged. ‘There were only a few of them and I heard so many shots before you came. Let Harris help him. Major Brockley may still be alive...’

  They heard shouting behind them and, after one, doubtful, look back, Robert whipped up the horses and set off at a good pace. Harris looked back and saw that two men were apparently searching for them. He shrank back behind the stables to avoid being seen, knowing that he must somehow get back into the house and find the major.

  The shot had come just as they’d entered by the back way, overcoming one man who was sitting drinking ale at the kitchen table. They’d knocked him out, but it appeared he’d now recovered his senses and was shouting to his companion that they had to find the girl or the master would kill them.

  Harris realised that his best bet was to let the horses loose, but if he did that he would have no means of getting his officer away. His only other real alternative was to fire at the men who were searching for him, fire to kill.

  ‘Harris.’ He turned as he heard the sibilant whisper and saw Captain Cameron. ‘I’ve just got here. Where is Brock?’

  ‘The major is in the house, sir. I think he may have been shot. We got Miss Ross out and Lieutenant Carstairs has taken her in the major’s curricle. He told us to get her away, but I can’t leave him, sir.’

  ‘Quite right, soldier,’ Cameron said. ‘We’d better deal with these rogues first. They seem to be heading for the stables. Let them come and then we’ll deal with them.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Harris said, glad to be able to take orders. ‘I heard just one shot for a start, sir, but there may have been others before we arrived. The Marquis may be wounded, too, I don’t really know. We concentrated on getting Miss Ross away. We had to shoot the lock. She was a very brave girl.’

  ‘Right, shush now. Here come our brave boys.’

  Harris nodded grimly. He had another name for the rogues that had abducted an innocent girl and would have liked to have shot them both, but he was under orders.

  ‘He’ll have our heads if she gets away...’ one of the men said as he reached for a saddle. ‘Did you hear me, Bert?’

  Hearing a smothered grunt, the man turned just in time to see his companion crumple and fall. It was the last thing he saw before he felt a crushing blow on his skull and went down like a stone.

  ‘Nice work, Harris,’ Captain Cameron said. ‘We’ll truss them up with this rope here and then we’ll find out what’s happened up at the house.’

  * * *

  Samantha was in her parlour, trying to write a letter when she heard voices in the hall. The sound of a girl’s voice made her pulses race and she jumped to her feet even as the door was flung open and Rosemarie entered, followed by Robert Carstairs.

  ‘Rosemarie! Are you all right? Have you been harmed?’

  ‘I’m dirty and tired,’ Rosemarie said. ‘He kept me in a horrid room with bars on the window and an old woman brought me just enough water to wash my face and hands. I was given bread, cheese and a drink of barley water twice a day.’ Her voice wobbled as she fought her tears. ‘One day he came to see me and told me why he’d abducted me. He hated my father because he believed Papa was cruel to his sister. He thought it my father’s love for my mother that had driven his sister mad, but it wasn’t true. She was ill long before they met. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen. I think he felt guilty because after Papa died he had her released into his care and she got out and drowned herself in the river. He blamed me for what he called Papa’s sins.’

  ‘He is a wicked man, dearest. Did he harm you?’

  Rosemarie shook her head, dashing her tears away. ‘Not in a physical way, though I feared he might. I do not think he was quite sane himself. He threatened to do all sorts of things to me, selling me as a white slave or shutting me in an asylum. I was so frightened and I thought I might die at his hands but I kept hoping that Major Brockley would come and then he did. I heard shots beneath my room and then Robert and Harris came and told me to stand away from the door.’

  ‘Oh, my love,’ Samantha said, and reached for her, holding her close as the tears flowed. ‘What a terrible ordeal for you. We have all been so worried.’

  ‘I did as they asked and they shot the lock out of the door and then Robert carried me away and Harris had to shoot one of those horrid men. I think he was killed.’

  ‘Well, that was very unpleasant, but perhaps he deserved it,’ Samantha suggested.

  ‘Oh, I do not care about him. It is Major Brockley,’ Rosemarie said. ‘We got away from the house, but then we waited to see if the major would come for some minutes. He didn’t and Harris said we must come on to you in the curricle and that he would go back and see what had happened.’

  Samantha’s blood ran cold. What had delayed Brock? She stared at Rosemarie in shock, hardly able to fra
me the words as she asked, ‘What happened to Brock? Do you know?’

  ‘No, he forbade us to go looking for him,’ Robert said. ‘Our orders were to get to Rosemarie while he confronted the Marquis. We heard two shots just as we broke into the back of the house. There were two rogues in the kitchen and we knocked them out—but a third came after us as we brought Rosemarie downstairs. Harris shot him at once because he was armed.’

  ‘But surely you went to investigate?’ Samantha was horrified when he shook his head.

  ‘He gave us orders not to. His concern was for Rosemarie—and we heard a shot. I think the Marquis must also have been wounded.’

  ‘But you don’t know. You just left Brock there to the mercy of those devils?’ She was angry and distressed even though she knew he was trained to follow the orders of a superior officer.

  ‘I begged Robert to go back, but he said his duty was to me,’ Rosemarie said, looking at her anxiously. ‘And he was following the major’s orders. Please, do not be angry with me, Samantha. I am so very sorry to have brought this trouble on you.’

  Samantha looked at her and some of her anger drained away. It was not Rosemarie’s fault, even though she could not think well of Lieutenant Carstairs.

  ‘It was not your fault, dearest,’ she said. ‘I know that you did as Brock asked, Lieutenant, but...’ Her throat caught with fear. ‘You did as he wanted, but I am so afraid.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I must not be foolish. Brock is a seasoned soldier, he has faced many enemies.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I was ordered to get Rosemarie away—and Harris went back. He was a soldier. I am sure he would do all he could.’ The lieutenant looked ashamed.

  ‘If he had not tried to help me, he would not be hurt, or dead,’ Rosemarie said, and her tears started afresh.

  ‘None of this is of your making,’ Samantha said, blinking away the foolish tears. This was not the time to give way to grief. ‘I blame myself for threatening the Marquis with exposure. I interfered and this is the consequence. If anyone is at fault, it is I.’

  ‘Oh, Samantha, I do hope Major Brockley is not badly hurt.’ Rosemarie was looking white and anxious. ‘He is so kind and he has done so much for me. I should have died if he had not helped me.’

  ‘Yes, that is true, but it is still not your fault, my dear,’ Samantha said, resisting the urge to give way to her own grief. ‘You are tired and hungry, I think you said. Come upstairs, my love, and we shall have a nice warm bath prepared for you. Then you may go to bed and a tray shall be brought up to you. Something light and very tasty so that you will know you are home again.’

  ‘Will you let me stay here with you after what happened? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me here.’

  Rosemarie looked so anxious and vulnerable that Samantha’s resentment melted away. Rosemarie was not to blame for what had happened—even if Brock had been killed.

  ‘Of course, my dear, if you wish it.’

  Rosemarie’s grandfather was willing to give her a home and that might be best for her, but this was not the time to discuss it. There would be plenty of time for that when they knew more about what had happened at the Marquis of Barchester’s estate.

  If the Marquis were still alive he would be even more of a threat if he had succeeded in killing Brock. Samantha knew that the Earl of Sandeford would make sure that the story of his wickedness was known amongst his friends and acquaintances. Barchester’s hopes of a rich marriage would be at an end and he would not be received in society—but the loss of his hopes might make him even more dangerous. He would be sure to blame Rosemarie and her friends, and then he would have nothing to lose. Next time he would not stop at abduction. Samantha must do everything she could to protect the girl, because Brock would expect it of her. She had to keep strong and think what was best for them all.

  Please let Brock be alive, Samantha prayed silently as she led the way upstairs. She loved him so much. She could not bear to lose him now. Once, she had survived the grief of losing a man she cared for—but her love for Percy had been softer, not as deep and painful as her love for Brock. She did not know how she would face it if they told her he was dead. Her throat felt as if it must close with grief, but somehow she held it inside.

  Samantha knew that she must go on for the sake of the young girl who had no other lady to turn to in her distress. Rosemarie would blame herself if Brock had suffered a fatal wound and she might refuse to marry her young lieutenant and go into a decline if she thought Samantha blamed her.

  Although she was weeping inside, Samantha knew she must be strong for the sake of her young friend.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Is there any news of Major Brockley?’ Robert asked when he called the next morning.

  ‘None as yet,’ Samantha replied, her smile in place despite the ache in her heart. ‘Perhaps it is better that way. I am sure someone would have let us know if the worst had happened.’

  ‘Yes, I am sure they would.’ Robert looked anxious despite his reassuring words. ‘I feel now that I ought to have done something. I should have gone back with Harris.’

  ‘What could you have done? Brock wanted you to bring Rosemarie to safety and you have done so. He would have been angry had you stayed for him and Rosemarie was harmed.’ Samantha’s anger against him had cooled for Carstairs had done what Brock asked and it was wrong to blame him whatever the outcome. ‘You must not blame yourself. It was Brock’s choice to face the Marquis alone.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, I know you are right,’ he said. ‘How is Rosemarie today? I wondered if she might like to go for a drive in the park this morning.’

  ‘I do not think that wise until we are more certain of the situation,’ Samantha said. ‘I am blessed with a large garden at the rear of the house and there is no reason why you should not walk and talk there in safety and privacy. Her grandfather sent me a note last evening after I informed him that she is returned to us. He intends to call here this morning to speak with her.’

  ‘Then perhaps I may speak with him, since I believe he is the most proper person to address in the matter of my hopes regarding Rosemarie.’

  ‘Yes, well, he will be here at eleven this morning,’ Samantha said. ‘You have half an hour to be private with Rosemarie in the garden. I will send her down to you, sir.’

  ‘You have been so kind to us both. How can we ever thank you?’

  ‘I should like news of Brock. When you have concluded your business here, perhaps you might try to discover something? I cannot visit gentlemen’s clubs or go searching for him myself.’

  ‘Of course not. Naturally, I shall do all I can. I shall call on various people I know and see if anything has been heard of him. Cameron may have had some word from him. I understand he went to Brock’s house after we left and he may well have followed us. He may even be with the major now.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps,’ Samantha replied.

  She was thoughtful as she went upstairs to call Rosemarie. Surely Brock would have asked that she be let know what was happening as soon as possible? He would know how worried she must be—if he were able to think, of course.

  She felt coldness at her nape as she realised that the probable reason for the lack of news was that Brock was unable to communicate with anyone. He might be very ill or... But, no, she would not allow herself to think that for one moment. He could not be dead, because she would know. She would feel it inside, she was sure of it—and so he must be alive, perhaps wounded and in pain. Samantha would go on hoping and praying that she would hear something soon.

  * * *

  The Earl had visited that morning, spending more than an hour with his granddaughter and Robert before he took his leave. Samantha went into the parlour soon after and saw that Rosemarie was in Robert’s arms. They broke apart as they realised she had come in, looking a little awkward.

 
‘Forgive us,’ Rosemarie apologised prettily with a little blush. ‘Grandfather has assured me that he will sanction an engagement and a wedding at Christmas when Robert will be given a longer leave. Robert has another short leave next month and Grandfather is to give a grand ball for us then. He believes that it will scotch all the unkind rumours if he sponsors me as his granddaughter and announces the engagement himself.’

  ‘Oh, my dear, I am truly pleased for you,’ Samantha said, and went to kiss her cheek. ‘It is what you always wanted and you will be happy now. But where are you to live until you marry?’

  ‘Grandfather says I may live with him at his London house if I choose. He will go down to the country for a while after the ball and says he would like me to stay with him until October, when he intends to return to London. He does not like the air in town during the hottest summer weather—and Robert will not be able to visit for some months. I shall not wish to go into society much once we are engaged unless Robert is with me.’ She looked up at him and smiled, obviously content.

  ‘Yes, I think that is an excellent idea. The Earl has many servants and will be able to protect you more easily than I could—and when Robert returns to his regiment it might be better to have your grandfather’s protection. Especially if...’ She faltered and could not go on as her throat tightened.

  ‘No, do not say it,’ Rosemarie begged, looking as if she were on the verge of tears. ‘I feel so guilty. All that Major Brockley has done for me and I am discussing a ball and where I shall live as if nothing is amiss—’ She broke off and could not continue. ‘Oh, why does no one tell us where he is and if he is all right?’ Tears made Rosemarie’s eyes suddenly bright and she clutched at Robert’s hand as they spilled over.

  ‘It is not your fault and Brock would not want you to feel guilty. He would be happy for you, I know,’ Samantha said, and then heard the sound of a male voice in the hall. ‘Brock...’ she began, but the words died away in disappointment as her butler announced the visitor.

 

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