by Stella Riley
‘Yes.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes. But --’
‘That was stupid. If Peter isn’t fit to escort you home, I’ll come with you myself.’
Lydia also rose. ‘No. You’ll have a bath and a poultice.’
Eden shut his eyes briefly and then said the one thing guaranteed to end the conversation.
‘Be careful, darling. You sound like a wife.’
This time her cheeks burned scarlet.
‘I beg your pardon. That wasn’t … I didn’t mean … I was trying to be helpful.’
‘No. You were being stubborn and argumentative. And normally, I enjoy it. But not today, Lydia. Today, I’ve neither the time nor, I fear, the patience. I need to see Lambert; I want to ensure that you and your workers are safe from attack; and I’m worried about Toby. So if you could see your way clear to not making my life any more difficult than it already is, I’d appreciate it.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
EIGHT
Since Peter declared himself well enough to see Mistress Neville home and protect her en route, Colonel Maxwell took himself off to Whitehall in search of the Major-General.
Lambert heard him out in silence, scribbled an order to the Captain of Militia at the Tower which included the information that there was a concealed exit somewhere at the rear of the building and then said, ‘Next time, come to me first. It will save you both time and trouble. Have you had any word from Villiers or Compton?’
Eden shook his head. ‘They’re both still out of London.’
‘Let me know when they return.’
Eden nodded and left. Back in Cheapside, he discovered that Mistress Wilkes’ suspicions had proved correct that that Tobias was growing increasingly feverish.
She said, ‘The doctor has been – for all the good he did. I showed him and his leeches the door, then I got Mr Toby to swallow a little elderberry tea and put a poultice of echinacea root on his wound.’
‘Not a bran poultice?’ Eden couldn’t help asking.
Alice Wilkes looked at him pityingly.
‘He has a bullet-hole, not a strained hock, Colonel. Echinacea root to draw out any infection and the tea to encourage sweats. We’ll see how he fares in a few hours’ time. Meanwhile, with the weather near freezing and the cost of ice being what it is, I’ve got enough water chilling in the yard to make compresses for Sir Nicholas’s knee as well as keeping Mr Toby sponged down. And Joan is heating water for your bath.’ She paused, head tilted consideringly. ‘Come to think of it, a bran poultice might ease your back. We’ll see when you’ve had a good, long soak. Now … is there anything else?’
‘No. You appear to have thought of everything. Thank you.’
‘No need for thanks, Colonel. Just don’t bring everybody home in this state again.’
Upstairs, he found Nicholas sitting beside Tobias’s bed and his brother, flushed, over-heated and restless.
Seeing the question in Eden’s face, Nicholas said, ‘I can sit here as well as anywhere and I want to help. As for Toby … he’s got slightly worse in the last hour but Mistress Wilkes seems to know what she’s doing.’
Eden laid a hand on Tobias’s brow. It was burning up. Tobias knocked Eden impatiently aside. Nicholas reached for a cool, damp cloth imbued with lavender and laid it where Eden’s hand had been. Tobias sighed and appeared to settle.
‘The relief is temporary,’ said Nicholas. ‘But it’s all we can do for now. So go and see to your own hurts before you’re as crippled as I am.’
* * *
By the time Eden got out of the bath, the skin of his fingers and toes was wrinkled as prunes but his back felt somewhat easier. This, as it turned out, was fortunate because he barely had time to dress before Mistress Wilkes came to tell him he had a visitor.
Captain Forbes of the Tower Militia saluted smartly and said, ‘I’m sorry, Colonel. We’ve brought in five fellows but none of them are Quinn. As far as I can make out, he hasn’t been in the building since some time last night – and, if any of the ones we’ve arrested know where to find him, they’re not saying. Not so far, anyway.’
Eden cursed under his breath.
‘Quite,’ agreed the Captain. Then, ‘Orders, sir?’
‘Hold them overnight – separately and somewhere not too comfortable. Major Moulton and I will question them tomorrow. Though I doubt,’ he finished bitterly, ‘that we’ll get any more out of them than you have. They’ll be more frightened of Quinn than anything we can do to them.’
* * *
Sitting beside Tobias’s bed through the long hours of the night, Eden managed to take a brief look at the book he’d taken from Quinn’s desk but was kept too busy sponging down his brother’s body to study it properly so he put it to one side and concentrated on the task in hand.
At around six in the morning, Mistress Wilkes changed the dressing on the bullet-wound and pronounced it clear of infection. But in general terms, Tobias’s condition was gradually worsening.
‘It’s to be expected,’ she said calmly. ‘I’ve never seen a fever break in less than twenty-four hours. But Mr Toby is strong and healthy so there’s no need to fear for his heart. We’ll continue with the sponge-baths and the elderberry tea for a while yet and see how he does. If there’s no improvement by this evening, I’ll consider dandelion and lobelia – though it’s not a remedy I like. In the meantime, Colonel, you can leave your brother to Sir Nick and me and seek your bed.’
‘Can’t,’ yawned Eden, shoving a hand through his hair and trying to ease the cramp in his back. ‘Duty calls – which means a shave and a clean shirt. I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you need me before then, send to the Tower.’
Precisely as he had expected, in hour upon hour of questioning, the five men Captain Forbes had in custody refused to talk and when Eden tried offering protection from Quinn in return for information, three of them actually laughed.
‘Think you can stop him cutting off me privates afore he slits me throat?’ said one. ‘Maybe you don’t know Quinn or maybe you’re just bloody stupid. But I know ’im and I ain’t. And that’s all I’m saying.’
In the end, Eden was forced to admit defeat. Leaving Ned to see the prisoners back to their cells, he walked out into the fading light and incipient frost of the late afternoon and decided he’d better go home via Bishopsgate – purely, he told himself, in order to make sure that Mistress Neville wasn’t doing anything stupid.
When she’d parted from the Colonel on the previous day, Lydia hadn’t known who she was more annoyed with; him for saying she sounded like a wife – or herself for giving him the opportunity. Then she’d visited Strand Alley and, after falling on her neck, Jenny and Rachel recounted what had happened in the Steelyard … and her previous thoughts seemed suddenly very trivial.
Aghast, Lydia couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. She’d let herself drift into argument and complaint when what she should have been doing was asking for details – such as the nature of Tobias Maxwell’s injury, for example. And then, having let the moment go by, she’d continued to behave as though Eden and his friends hadn’t done much more than throw a few punches – which clearly couldn’t have been further from the truth
Oh God. If what Jenny says is right, they had to fight tooth and nail to get both my women and themselves away safely, Eden must think I’m the most ungrateful, self-centred idiot alive. And if something happens to his brother, he’s never going to forgive me.
Next morning, she sent Nancy to Cheapside to enquire after the invalid and received a brief note from Nicholas informing her that Toby wasn’t improving but that Mistress Wilkes saw no cause for real anxiety as yet. This brought a new thought.
How are they managing? The housekeeper seems very efficient … but how can she nurse Mr Maxwell and keep the house running all at the same time? I should have offered to help. Given the circumstances, it’s the very least I can do.
By the time she decided to send Mistress Wilkes a note rather tha
n risk offending her by simply turning up on the doorstep, darkness was falling and she was just about to send Tam to Cheapside rather than Nancy when she heard sounds of someone arriving. Three minutes later, Colonel Maxwell walked in looking tired and faintly irritable.
He said, ‘I won’t stay. I just came to let you know that I’ve spent most of the day interrogating five of Quinn’s men and got precisely nowhere. So I wanted to make sure you remembered what I said about being careful.’
‘After everything that’s happened, I’m hardly likely to forget, am I?’
‘You’re likely to do whatever comes into your head and damn the consequences,’ he replied tersely. Then, ‘Henry tells me that Peter is recovering. How are the women?’
‘Astonishingly resilient.’
‘Not to mention handy with a blunt instrument.’
He turned as if to go, causing Lydia to say quickly, ‘Please – wait a moment. How is your brother? And why didn’t you tell me he’d been shot?’
‘No reason other than that you didn’t ask.’ Eden hesitated, turning his hat in his hands. ‘If you must know, he took a bullet that was meant for me.’
‘Oh. I see.’ And because she was fairly sure she did, added, ‘But you’d have done the same for him, wouldn’t you?’
‘That’s hardly the point,’ shrugged Eden impatiently. ‘I’m sorry. Toby was acutely feverish throughout the night and I’m eager to get home in the hope he’s doing better. If and when I have any other news for you, I’ll --’
‘Let me help,’ blurted Lydia. And snatching up the folded note beside her, ‘I’ve just written to Mistress Wilkes asking if there is anything I can do. She must be run off her feet – and you look exhausted. I could at least share the load a little. Please?’
He surveyed her thoughtfully and then said, ‘If you’re sure … some help would be appreciated. Perhaps tomorrow, if --’
‘No. I’ll come now.’ She stopped and then, her words tumbling over each other, said, ‘I’m ashamed I didn’t ask what happened or properly appreciate what you did and I’m sorry I didn’t offer help sooner. So I’ll come with you now and do what I can. And if that sounds like a wife – I’m sorry about that, too.’
* * *
Cheapside, when they got there, proved to be full of surprises. Informed by Mistress Wilkes that he had visitors – but not who they were or even how many – Eden led Lydia upstairs, saying, ‘I admire economy as much as the next man. But just occasionally I wish that woman would spare a few additional words.’
Then he opened the parlour door and stopped dead.
Gabriel stood before the hearth talking to Ralph Cochrane; Phoebe Clifford sat in a corner holding Nicholas’s hand; and sitting at the table, wrapping himself round a large slice of meat pie, was Eden’s son.
For a second, everyone stopped talking … and then immediately started again.
Eden threw up a hand and said, ‘It’s an invasion. Why wasn’t I warned? Not that it matters. You’re all welcome. Jude – happy as I am to see you, I can wait to embrace you until you’ve finished eating. Ralph … what the hell brings you here?’
‘Tab,’ said Ralph succinctly, holding out his hand. ‘The night before last she woke in a sweat, saying something had happened to Toby. And after that – since there’s absolutely no way I was going to let her travel – nothing would do but that I came in her place. Jude offered to keep me company – so here we are. I didn’t think you’d mind.’
‘Mind? Far from it.’ Eden looked around. ‘Gabriel?’
‘Venetia’s leaving for home tomorrow before the weather breaks and the roads turn into mud,’ replied Colonel Brandon. ‘I was coming to ask after Toby and Phoebe insisted she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to Nick.’
Phoebe stood up, her colour rising.
‘That’s not what I said!’
‘It’s what you meant.’ Giving Eden a moment to greet his son, Gabriel strolled over to Lydia. ‘Mistress Neville … a pleasure. I believe Venetia has sent you a note. She wanted to call but, between the children and the packing, she hasn’t had a spare moment.’
‘I can imagine. Please wish her a safe journey from me and tell her I’ll write.’
‘I will. And now, if Phoebe can tear herself away … we’ll take our leave. With Toby ill upstairs, Eden must be wishing us at Jericho.’
There were a few more moments of confusion while Nicholas struggled to his feet, kissed Phoebe’s hand and whispered something in her ear that made her nod vigorously and brought a beaming smile to her face. Eden hugged his son and briefly introduced both Jude and Ralph to Lydia … and Gabriel and Phoebe finally took their leave. Then Eden said, ‘If everyone will excuse me, I want to look in on Toby.’ He frowned slightly. ‘I take it somebody’s sitting with him?’
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘I thought --’
‘Good.’ Eden relieved Lydia of her cloak and said, ‘Perhaps you’d care to come with me? If you’re going to help, you may as well see what you’re up against.’
They left the room and Nicholas dropped his head in his hands.
‘Oh God,’ he muttered.
‘What?’ asked Ralph and Jude more or less in unison.
‘Something I really should have warned him about.’
With Lydia on his heels, Eden opened the door to his brother’s room and, for the second time in ten minutes, came to an abrupt halt.
Standing beside the bed, one hand resting lightly on Tobias’s brow, was Deborah. Slowly, she turned a fathomless gaze, dipped a slight curtsy and said, ‘Nicholas sent for me. I hope I’m not unwelcome?’
Eden swallowed his shock, distantly aware that he shouldn’t be shocked at all and acutely conscious of Lydia standing just behind him.
‘Unwelcome? No. How could you be? I know how skilled you are … and if you can help Toby, I’ll be more than grateful.’
‘I’ve done what I can.’ The dark eyes drifted over Lydia and then returned to Tobias, now lying peacefully beneath orderly sheets. Deborah pointed to the small pouch hanging about his neck and said, ‘Leave that where it is until you see a marked improvement in his condition. For the rest, I’ve dosed him with an infusion of my own and left more with Alice. She knows how much and how often.’
‘Thank you,’ said Eden. And then, moving aside, ‘I’m sorry. Lydia … you’ll remember Mistress Fisher, of course.’
‘Indeed.’ Lydia smiled and stepped forward. ‘I know a little of herbs, Mistress Fisher – but not nearly as much as you, it seems. What do you recommend for fevers such as this?’
‘Blackthorn and feverfew, of course … with a little ginger and some fenigreek seeds.’
For the first time, Deborah turned away, allowing a glimpse of her profile and the clearly discernible rounding of her belly. Standing so close to him, Lydia was aware of the hitch in Eden’s breathing and wondered afresh how deep a bond had existed between him and this exotic woman. In order to give him time, she said randomly, ‘Ginger? I wouldn’t have thought of that.’
‘Few people do.’ Deborah reached for her cloak. ‘I should go. My husband has been meeting with a supplier in the Lamb and Flag while he waits to escort me home. It was a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Neville. And Colonel … I don’t think you need worry. Toby is as strong as an ox and will therefore recover more quickly than most.’
‘I hope so.’ Eden managed a smile. ‘Thank you for coming.’
‘I was happy to do so,’ came the serene reply. Then, ‘Please don’t trouble to show me out. I remember the way – and you have other guests.’ And, with another tiny curtsy, she left the room.
Eden wanted to follow her. He wanted to ask if she was well and happy and glad of the coming baby and a dozen other things. But he knew he shouldn’t and that Deborah wouldn’t welcome it. So he watched her go and hoped Lydia Neville wasn’t reading things in his face that he’d rather she didn’t.
Lydia was very carefully not looking at his face. Head bent over her cuffs as she unfas
tened them in order to push back her sleeves, she said, ‘I’ll sit with Mr Maxwell tonight if Mistress Wilkes will tell me what he is to be given and how often.’
He nodded but said, ‘Part of the night only. Either she or I will take over from you later.’
‘No. She has enough to do and you need to sleep. Meanwhile, you should go back to your son. He’s very like you, isn’t he? She paused and hiding a smile, added, ‘He has very good manners.’
As clearly as if she’d said it, Eden heard the ‘but’ hiding between the two last sentences. He started to laugh and then realised that what he actually wanted to do was sweep her off her feet and kiss until neither of them knew what day it was. It was a ridiculous impulse; totally and utterly illogical. And it told him something he’d half suspected before. It told him that he was already in a lot deeper than was wise.
He said, ‘Jude owes his looks to me and his manners to my mother. And before you say it – yes, she tried just as hard with me but, as you’re aware, with a signal lack of success.’
Lydia looked up at him gravely.
‘In some things, perhaps. But, taken all in all, I don’t imagine she’s disappointed.’
Hazel eyes locked with silvery-blue ones and the silence between the two of them grew charged. Finally, breaking the thread before it could tighten further, Eden said, ‘I’ll go, then. And … thank you.’
She shook her head and tried, despite the hiatus in her chest, to speak in her usual tone.
‘But for me, your brother wouldn’t be ill. So the thanks are mine.’
When the door closed behind him, she sank into a chair and stared down at her hands. They were shaking a little. She thought, I have to stop this. Somehow I have to stop feeling like this before he notices. But when he looks at me so intensely … in truth, when he looks at me at all … nothing in the world exists except him. And I don’t know how to deal with it.
