by Cready, Gwyn
By the time they reached the copse, two carriages were coming up the long drive. Bridgewater peered at them from the shelter of one of the oak trunks.
“That’s General Cabot’s carriage,” Bridgewater said, frowning. “What could he be doing here?” He laced his fingers to provide a foothold for Panna to mount the horse.
Panna put her foot in his hand. “General Williston is there as well.”
He lifted her up and into the saddle. “Williston? His men are in Lincoln, and Cabot’s are north of Cambridge. What would they be doing here in Cumbria?”
“Williston gave the orders for all divisions north of Oxford to come to Cumbria. They’ll be arriving in the course of the next two days.”
A look of horror passed between Bridgewater and Clare.
“Oh, no,” she added hurriedly. “Don’t worry. It’s very unlikely they’ll attack.”
Bridgewater gave a disdainful laugh. “With three divisions? Hell, they could take almost take Spain with that many men, let alone half a dozen angry clans.”
“No, what I mean is, I heard them talking, the earl and Williston. The earl was very clear that their hands are tied. The queen has said they cannot attack unprovoked. And if nothing happens by Wednesday, all the troops are to return to the south.”
“How did you hear this?”
“That’s the best thing. There’s a fireplace above where the men were meeting. I could hear their voices quite clearly.”
Bridgewater gazed at the house, considering. “Where was that?”
“I was . . .” It dawned on her she’d rather not say, and her pause prompted Bridgewater to turn.
“Where?”
“I was in Adderly’s bedchamber.”
A cool detachment came over Bridgewater’s features, as if a curtain had been dropped, and he untied the lead. “I see.”
“No, you don’t see. I was in the process of trying to sneak out. His bedroom door was ajar, and I could hear voices from the floor below coming through the hearth when I walked by. It was the earl and Williston talking. I stood there as long as I could, until Adderly discovered me.”
Bridgewater looked at Clare. “If what she heard is true—”
“It is what I heard. I heard it quite clearly.”
He bowed in acceptance. “If it’s true . . . good lord, by Wednesday, the crisis will have passed.”
The relief on both their faces was so evident, Panna hated to add, “But there’s more.”
“More?”
“Yes. Williston felt that having to return with no victory in hand would be highly embarrassing for the generals involved.”
“It would be,” Bridgewater said. “And rightly so.”
“Which is why he has a plan.”
“A plan? What sort of plan?”
“Well, I don’t know. That’s when Adderly found me.”
Clare chewed his lip. “I wish I knew what the generals were thinking. For that matter, I wish I knew what the clans have in mind.”
Bridgewater said to Panna, “There are some borderland clan chiefs who seek to avoid more fighting. Unfortunately, that contingent has lost power in the last year. There are others who want to bring the fervor to a head no matter the cost in human lives.”
“Your grandfather?” she asked.
Bridgewater’s eyes turned automatically toward the north, as if he could still see that yellow flag flapping in the Scottish hills. “I don’t know for certain. I have never spoken to my grandfather, not in my entire life. So I only know what I’ve heard. And what I’ve heard suggests he bides his time in the middle, waiting to see which way the wind will blow. His clan is the largest around here, however, and were he to come down on one side or the other, his word would carry. Still, we have heard nothing to suggest the clans are planning an attack in the short term.”
Clare’s horse pawed the ground, and he scratched the creature’s ears. “Nor have we heard they intend to hold off.” He put a foot in the stirrup and pulled himself into the saddle. “So, do we wait, and hope the clans sit on their hands long enough for this to blow over?”
Bridgewater slouched against the closest tree and stared abstractedly at his father’s castle.
“You need to know what the generals are planning,” Panna said. “Any move you make without that knowledge could make things worse.”
“There may be a way to find out,” Bridgewater said. “I know a captain in one of Cabot’s regiments. If he arrives tomorrow—”
“Tomorrow may be too late,” Clare said.
“I don’t see that we have much of a choice.”
“You do,” Panna said. “Me.”
“Pardon?”
“Me. I can go back. I’ll say I took a walk. I can find out what they talk about after dinner. The earl told Williston that that’s when they’d pick up the conversation.”
“You are kind to offer,” Bridgewater said, “but they’re hardly going to invite a woman into their confidence.”
“She doesn’t mean joining their conversation, Jamie. She means listening from Adderly’s room.”
A flush of anger lit Bridgewater’s cheeks. “No.”
The horse fidgeted at the sharpness of Bridgewater’s tone, and Panna clutched the edge of the saddle. “No?”
“No,” he repeated. “I told you I don’t trust Adderly.”
“I don’t, either. But I know I can get back into his room again.”
Bridgewater’s flush grew brighter.
“I don’t mean like that.” The thought of it sent a chill through her. She hoped Adderly would join in the generals’ conversation. That seemed the only way to be sure he wouldn’t corner her again.
“Let me try it, at least,” she said. “If I don’t succeed, I can always steal away, just as I did now.”
“Absolutely not. Why do you suppose I came after you? And Clare found me? Adderly has a damned ugly streak of brutality. Is my face not evidence enough of that?”
“Look,” she said, “I accept that Adderly is a danger. Nonetheless, your father will be there. Do you honestly think your father would let anything happen to a woman in his own home? I haven’t heard you say anything about your father that would make me believe you wouldn’t trust him with me.” She almost said “your life,” but then, a man who’d had his paternity denied might argue his life had been taken from him.
Bridgewater bridled. She could see the strong distaste in those eyes. He turned to Clare, looking for his reaction.
Clare shrugged. “Tis two more hours at most. We’d be here the whole time.”
Bridgewater turned back to her. “You would be in his bedchamber.”
She wanted to say that she knew how to handle herself in a man’s bedchamber, but she dared not—not with the cold fire in his eyes. “I will be careful, I swear. And he’ll join the other men after dinner, will he not?”
After a long moment, Bridgewater held out his hand to help her from the horse. “I don’t like it.”
“I know. I appreciate your willingness to let me try.”
He made a dubious noise, as if he were already regretting his decision, and handed her the gown. “There’s a sizable copper beech over there. Let us hope none of the generals have chosen this hour for a walk about the park.”
SEVENTEEN
Dining Hall, Bridgewater Castle, Carlisle, Cumbria
Adderly filled his goblet, then topped off Panna’s. “You’ve hardly drunk anything. This is Alsatian, you know. Dry, floral, with a dash of spice. Not unlike you, milady.”
She smiled despite feeling a jolt of revulsion. He had drunk more than enough for both of them and a few generals combined, but other than a slight pinkness around the edges of his eyes and a taste for overblown similes, he had shown few signs of inebriation, which surprised her.
“You are too kind.”
Adderly leaned closer. “My servant said you forwent your bath. I hope you were not unwell.”
Panna felt a sudden, more dangerous vibe. Was he wondering where she’d be
en? She searched his face, but there appeared to be no accusation in his words, just the solicitousness of a tongue loosened by alcohol.
“As I said, the day looked so beautiful I decided to walk in the park instead. I owe your servant an apology. I know setting up a bath is not an easy matter. I am sorry I missed it.”
Adderly waved away her concern.
The dinner, which had consisted of fish soup, the ham she had smelled, a large roast beef, geese stuffed with quail and eel pie, was coming slowly to an end. The men at the table were arguing the pros and cons of Marlborough’s latest strategy with the French.
The earl had appeared behind them, goblet in hand. “Adderly, might I have the honor of a few moments with our guest? You have been keeping her to yourself this whole night, and ladies are at a premium.”
Only three women were seated at the table, and the other two were Adderly’s seventeen-year-old cousin and her elderly traveling companion.
Adderly stood and bowed, giving Panna a good-natured wink before strolling to his father’s seat.
“Did you like the park, Mrs. Carnegie? I am told Adderly took you on a tour.”
He looked like a white-haired version of Sean Connery, with his neatly trimmed beard, piercing green eyes, of course, that slightly bent nose. But despite his conviviality, Panna’s defenses rose.
“Aye. Tis lovely.”
“We do not spend much time here, no more than a month or two each year, though this year, of course, the unpleasantness with the Scots has extended our stay considerably.”
Panna could only imagine the expense of keeping an estate of this size to use a fraction of the year.
“What about the gardens? Did Adderly take you there as well?”
“He did. I have never seen anything quite so skillfully laid out. He says the mermaids on the fountain spin and spray water from their shells when the water is running.”
“My wife designed it.”
Panna wondered about the woman who had taken Sorcha’s place in the earl’s heart. “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to meet her. I take it she is elsewhere this evening?”
“Did my son not tell you? His mother passed away four years ago.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. I can see a lot of you in Adderly. Does he also take after your wife?”
The earl looked at her carefully. “Aye. They share the same fine sense of taste and love of art. I am entirely lacking in what the world would call that sort of refinement.”
“I do not think that can be true, sir. Your house is beautiful.”
“Thank you. It has been in the Bridgewater family for nearly a century.”
She paused, considering. “Bridgewater is, I think, a common name in these parts, is it not?”
“Not particularly. Why?”
“I was introduced to another officer named Bridgewater this morning, a captain. He is in one of your regiments, I think.” She watched the earl’s face for a sign, but he kept his expression even.
He shook his head. “I am afraid he is no relation.”
She took a large gulp of wine. Dare she? “He looks a bit like your son: the aquiline nose, the deep-set eyes. They could easily be cousins.”
“They are not.” He reached for the carafe of wine and filled his glass. “If you have heard he once claimed a relationship, may I just say that I believe he was misled by a desperate and destitute mother. Tis quite sad.”
“Indeed it is.”
“My son is rather taken with you.”
“I am most honored,” she said, flustered. The earl obviously didn’t believe in beating around the bush.
“He intends to become a patron of your library.”
“I’m glad. He would be helping many people.”
“Where, exactly, is your library, Mrs. Carnegie? I have made a few inquiries on my way into town and have found no one who is aware of your efforts.”
Panna’s palms began to tingle. “My efforts have just begun. Opening a library that everyone can borrow from is a dream of mine. I’ve been a library keeper for a long time in Penn’s Woods. If you would like a reference from the man whose library I administer, I would be happy to write for one.”
The earl looked at her over the rim of his glass. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” He reached into the pocket of his frock coat and withdrew a folded note. “This is for you.”
She opened it carefully and saw it was a bank draft for fifty pounds—an enormous sum in these days, she thought, considering Lizzy Bennett’s forty-pound annual dowry income in Pride and Prejudice a century from now. “Thank you very much.”
He nodded. “I am reminded of the time the archbishop of York pressed me for the sponsorship of his home for the insane. I said to him as I wrote the check, ‘Do you know the difference between an archbishop and a whore?’ When he declared he did not, I said, ‘Two naughts on the bank draft.’”
Panna felt a wave of heat rise from her toes to her forehead.
“I’m afraid he did not laugh,” the earl went on. “Not even when I added, ‘Tis little wonder both do their best work on their knees.’ He took a deep drink of wine. “Shall we agree this will end your, er, solicitation of my son?”
She placed the draft on the table and pushed it toward him. “You may keep your money, sir. I will find the funding I require, and if it means I must scrape my knees on the carpet of every gentleman in Cumbria, I will do so at my pleasure— beginning with your son.”
For an instant Panna wondered if she would be thrown out of the castle, and tried to think of exactly how she would explain the turn of events to Bridgewater. But the earl barked a laugh so hearty, nearly everyone at the table turned, including Adderly.
“I like your spirit, milady,” the earl said. “You remind me of a woman I had the pleasure of knowing a very long time ago. And I don’t doubt you will raise the funds you need. Please accept this with my sincerest desire for your success. You have painted a picture that will be with me for some many years hence. Adderly,” he called, rising, “you may return to your rightful place. I hope you are willing to support our guest’s cause. I think you will find the position it puts you in quite satisfying.”
Panna slipped the draft into her pocket as Adderly took his seat.
“You have certainly won my father’s favor,” he said.
“He is a most interesting man.”
Adderly’s eyes gleamed mischief. “I have been thinking about your bath, milady.”
Oh, dear.
“I have a thought.”
“Oh?” She picked up her glass. Dinner was ending, and in a moment the men would be adjourning to wherever they went. Panna hoped wherever that was would be the same place the earl and Williston had been this afternoon.
Adderly leaned closer. “What if I called for a bath in my room? You would have the benefit of hot water without the embarrassment of having to ask a second time.”
The only thing about the offer that surprised Panna was how many goblets of wine it had taken to prompt it.
“It seems a rather dangerous thing to attempt, if you ask me.” She smiled.
“Does it?” He traced the outline of her neckline with his eyes.
“For example, where would you be during such an undertaking?”
He made a throaty chuckle and took another gulp of wine. “Well, I could hardly ask for the bath if I wasn’t in the bedchamber myself.”
“Uh-huh. You understand my concern, then?”
“What if I were to tell you the bath had already been drawn?”
“I would say someone has been counting his winnings in advance of the last hand of cards. Never advisable.”
He laughed again. “What if I were to give you time to play the last hand?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean this.” He leaned close enough not only to tickle her ear with his breath but also to see nearly to her navel. “I have in mind to make a very large contribution to your library. However, I should like there to be a bit of
sport in it. I am going into the drawing room with the officers for our usual brandies and talk of war. However, I cannot guarantee how long our discussion might last. If, knowing that, you are daring enough to take your bath in my room, you shall find a draft for thirty pounds in the pocket of your gown tomorrow.”
Not quite as generous as his father. “And how will you know I’ve done it? If I’m wise, and I am—very—I shall be in and out of there as fast as I can manage it.”
“Oh, I have already considered that possibility. I’m afraid you shall have to leave your gown in my room as proof. And your shift.”
“Leaving me nothing but a towel?”
“Leaving you nothing,” he said. “There are two towels next to the bath. Both will have to stay.”
“I see.” She took another long sip of wine, considering the challenge. “That’s a rather long walk in nothing but my slippers, don’t you think?”
“I find the notion exceedingly intriguing. I warrant it’s the only thing that will get me through my colleagues’ longwinded discussion.”
“Let us pray it is long-winded.”
“Aye, to that end, I can say this: I will stay until my father finishes his second brandy. You have my word as a gentleman on it. But one can never tell if this will be the night he sips and enjoys or the night he toasts and swallows.”
The officers were rising from their chairs, and Panna considered how much time it would take for the men to begin discussing how they intended to get around Queen Anne’s restrictions once they got their brandies. Of course, she had not the slightest intention of taking a bath. As much as she’d enjoy collapsing in tub of steamy water after this long day, the benefits in this case hardly seemed worth the risk. However, the satisfied smile that spread across Adderly’s face made it clear he’d taken her silence for assent.
She played with the napkin on her lap. “And what would you say if I were to tell you the library I’m imagining will cost considerably more than thirty pounds?”
The earl stood. “Adderly, would you lead our guests into the drawing room?”
Adderly caught Panna’s napkin just as it fell and dropped it in her lap, carefully brushing a nipple with his arm, and said under his breath, “I would say plan on taking a very long bath.”
