Scandal at the Dower House

by Marina Oliver

  Fortunately, she thought, Staines announced dinner at that moment and she led the way into the dining room. While he was present serving them they talked of Nicholas’s stay in Paris; he gave her Delphine’s messages and good wishes, and she told him something of what was happening in the village, the general hardship and the discontent many of the villagers felt towards Jeremy.

  ‘You think it was some of the villagers who feel hard done by who attacked him?’

  ‘Who else could it have been? I’ve had plenty of time to consider it. It’s highly unlikely some roving band would set upon him so viciously.’

  ‘There are such bands. Many of the soldiers now have no occupation. One can see many in the towns and on the roads, begging, especially those who lost limbs. The stronger ones who cannot find jobs have resorted to more violent means of feeding themselves.’

  Staines coughed. ‘My lady.’

  ‘Yes, Staines?’

  ‘The man with Mr Lewis told me today he thought he recognized one of the men. He said it looked like Dan.’

  ‘So he is still around,’ Catarina said. ‘Yes, he feels he has many grievances. He was suspected of setting fire to Mr Lewis’s barn, so he has the potential for violence. And he could have persuaded the friends he still has in the village to join him. Now they are facing such a hard winter, without much food, they could have been willing to attack Jeremy. They blame him, even though it’s unreasonable, for all that’s befallen them.’

  ‘The young fool has partly brought it on himself. My lady, if you are agreeable, I will sit here with Jeremy tonight.’

  ‘You must be exhausted, driving all the way from Brooke Court. Couldn’t Staines sit up again?’

  ‘I would not sleep. Not until he shows some sign of improvement.’

  ‘There is a comfortable armchair I could have brought into the room, my lord,’ Staines said. ‘You will be able to doze. Or I could have a truckle bed brought in from my lady’s room.’

  Nicholas opted for the armchair. Just at that moment the doctor was announced and he accompanied him up to Jeremy’s room.

  Later, as Dr Holt left, he told Catarina Jeremy was showing signs of waking up, so he was hopeful he would make a recovery.

  ‘Though we cannot yet tell whether his faculties have been impaired. We know so little about the brain and what can happen to it from such injuries as Mr Brooke has received. Send for me at any time if there are changes that worry you, but I hope that by morning he will have recovered his senses.’

  When Catarina peeped into Jeremy’s room before she went to bed, Nicholas was sprawled in the armchair, fast asleep. She told herself she ought not to, but she could not resist standing and looking down at him.

  His hair was ruffled, not in its usual carefully dishevelled state, but as though he had raked his fingers through it repeatedly. He had torn off his cravat, and without it he looked surprisingly vulnerable. She saw how uncommonly long his dark lashes, spread over his cheeks, were. Unfair, a small voice inside her said. Girls would give a great deal for such natural assets. His cheekbones stood out, slanted, with hollows below them. He looked thinner than when she had last seen him, but perhaps she could not recall his features quite accurately.

  A shadow darkened his chin and she could see the individual hairs of his beard. His lips were slightly open, relaxed, and Catarina wondered what it would be like to kiss them, to have them pressed against her own. She shivered. Nicholas opened his eyes and looked up at her, smiling.

  Then he recalled why he was there and sat up, frowning, looking across at Jeremy.

  ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ he said softly. ‘This chair was a mistake. Is Jeremy the same? Were you guarding him for me?’

  Catarina shook her head. ‘He looks the same. Would you like me to wake someone to stay here with you?’

  ‘No, I was used to having a quick doze whenever I could while I was in the army. I won’t fall asleep again.’

  To make sure of it he rose from the chair and placed a hard stool beside the bed.

  ‘Then I’ll say goodnight,’ Catarina whispered, and went slowly back to her own bedroom. Why had circumstances conspired to make it impossible for her to accept his offer?

  She was soon asleep, but in the middle of the night was awoken by shouts. After a moment she realized it came from Jeremy’s room, across the corridor from her own. Stopping only to fling on a brocade dressing-gown she hurried across and flung open the door. Jeremy was struggling with Nicholas, who was trying to hold him down, raving and shouting curses, interspersed with cries which sounded like cries of pain.

  Staines arrived on Catarina’s heels and went to help Nicholas.

  ‘The doctor left a sedative in case he became restless,’ Nicholas gasped. ‘It’s on the table, but I can’t reach it.’

  Catarina went and found the small glass and, while Staines held Jeremy’s arms, which had been flailing about, Nicholas managed to get him to swallow most of the medicine. It soon took effect, and Jeremy quietened, and looked as though he was sleeping naturally.

  Nicholas stood up, sighing, and dragging a hand across his face.

  ‘It happened so suddenly. One moment he was lying there, the next he was awake and trying to get out of bed. I’m so sorry we woke you.’

  ‘You have a cut on your forehead,’ Catarina said, stretching out her hand as if to touch it, then suddenly drawing back.

  ‘He must have hit me with the splint on his arm. It’s nothing.’

  She took refuge in practicalities.

  ‘It’s bleeding. Stay here while I fetch something to cover it. Staines, could you ask Cook or one of the maids to make a pot of tea? I think we might all benefit from one.’

  ‘I’ll make it, my lady. Have you all you need?’

  She nodded and fetched some of the bandages the doctor had not used, and some soothing balm made with comfrey leaves. Forcing herself to control her trembling as she touched him, she applied the salve while Nicholas sat in the armchair. The cut was not, as he had said, serious, but it had bled copiously. She wound a strip of bandage round his head and suddenly giggled.

  ‘You look like an Indian in a turban. Joanna and I had some pictures in a book we were given when we were small.’

  He grasped her hand and pulled her gently towards him. She shivered and tried not to snatch her hand away.

  ‘Thank you, Catarina,’ he said, and lifted her hand to his mouth, planting a firm kiss into the palm.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BY MORNING JEREMY was in a high fever, and Nicholas refused to leave him. Catarina took in some lukewarm water and Nicholas and Jeremy’s valet took it in turns to sponge him down.

  He was never still, alternately raging and shouting, or muttering words no one could understand, so slurred was his voice. By evening, though, he seemed to have exhausted himself and sank into an uneasy sleep. Catarina persuaded Nicholas to come downstairs and eat dinner.

  ‘You must have some sleep,’ she told him. ‘You will not be fit to care for him if you collapse from exhaustion.’

  ‘Don’t fuss! Oh, I apologize, that was unpardonable of me when you are being so kind.’

  ‘You are too tired to know what you are saying, my lord. There is a bed waiting for you. Staines insists he will stay up tonight with Chettle who has been demanding to help.’

  Nicholas resisted, but was eventually persuaded to go to bed after Chettle had promised to wake him should Jeremy show any signs of getting worse.

  Catarina, who had slept badly herself, soon went to bed, but was woken in the middle of the night by piercing wails coming from Maria’s nursery. She struggled into her dressing-gown and went to see what was the matter. Clarice, looking harassed, was sitting rocking the child in her arms.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘She is cutting some big teeth, my lady, and has a fever. I have put a little clove oil on her gums, but it does not seem to help. And she throws away the teething ring whenever I try to give it to her.’

&nb
sp; ‘I’ll take her downstairs. She will waken his lordship, and he needs his rest. You try and sleep for the rest of the night.’

  She carried Maria down into the library, which was a small room, and where she had been sitting the previous day. She had been sitting in front of a good fire and the room was still warm. Raking out the ashes she threw on some kindling from the wood basket and soon the fire was blazing, the perfume of apple logs filling the room.

  Catarina curled up in one of the deep chairs, Maria on her lap, and began to sing quietly to the child. Normally Maria loved these songs, but she was so miserable with the pain of her new tooth cutting through the gums that it took a long while to calm her and for her to fall asleep.

  She seemed so deeply asleep Catarina considered the advisability of carrying Maria back to her own bed, but decided it might wake the child. If she began to cry again she would wake Nicholas. Easing her arm, which was aching from the weight of the baby, she wriggled into a more comfortable position and was soon sleeping.

  It was there Nicholas found her when he came downstairs in search of breakfast. The opening of the door woke her. Catarina blinked, wondering for a moment where she was. Then she tried to move and Maria began to wail again at being disturbed.

  Her limbs were numb, and she winced as she tried to stand up. Nicholas came across the room swiftly and lifted Maria out of her arms.

  Catarina smiled her thanks, then realized her hair was in a tangle. Some time during the night she had lost her sleeping cap and, worst of all, her dressing-gown skirts had ridden up while she slept and she was revealing her ankles and bare feet. She blushed with mortification, but luckily Nicholas seemed to be concentrating on the baby and hadn’t appeared to notice.

  Maria, startled, had stopped crying and was considering him closely.

  ‘So this is your adopted daughter,’ he said. ‘How old is she? I’ve never had anything to do with babies, so I have no idea.’

  ‘It’s her first birthday in November, on the fifteenth of the month,’ Catarina said, pulling her dressing-gown round her and searching for her cap.

  ‘She’s a very pretty child.’

  Catarina had by now managed to struggle out of the chair.

  ‘I hope she did not disturb you during the night. She was in pain from her new teeth.’

  Maria, seeming to understand, opened her mouth wide and smiled beguilingly at Nicholas, who laughed.

  ‘She did not disturb me; I slept well. And Jeremy seems a little calmer, the fever is less, they told me when I looked in on him. She is already a flirt.’

  Like her mother, Catarina thought. Joanna was missing so much by rejecting her child.

  ‘I had best take her upstairs, or she will soon be crying for her breakfast. What is the time? If Cook has not already prepared breakfast please ask for whatever you want.’

  Nicholas watched Catarina leave the room, smiling at the look of confusion there had been on her face when she realized her ankles were visible. Very attractive ankles they were, too.

  He’d almost commented the child looked very like her, had her eyes and hair, but had recollected just in time that she could not be Catarina’s baby if Delphine’s information was to be trusted. Why should it not be?

  She had not reappeared by the time he had eaten, but while Staines had waited on him he said Jeremy had passed a reasonably peaceful night, though his fever had not diminished. Chettle and Jeremy’s own valet, Bates, were continuing to sponge him down.

  ‘We could understand some of the things he said, my lord,’ Staines reported, ‘and he seemed to be worried about some business to do with Mr Trubshaw. My lady wondered whether you might go up to the Grange and see him? Even though Mr Jeremy does not appear to know what he is saying, if you could report all is well it might reassure him.’

  ‘I’ll decide after I’ve seen him. Is the doctor coming this morning?’

  ‘He’ll be here.’

  ‘Good. Now, Staines, don’t you think you ought to be in bed? You look exhausted yourself, man, and I had a good sleep. You ought not to be bothering to wait on me.’

  ‘I will sleep soon, my lord. But if I might be so bold, my lady has not stepped out of doors since the accident, and she is looking pale. Could you persuade her to drive with you for an hour?’

  Would she agree, Nicholas wondered. Fate had thrown them together again and he was even more certain he still wanted her. Paris had not cured him of that longing, despite the uncertainty the Brazilian’s words had at first produced. He thought he had divined the truth. But while Jeremy was so ill he could not think of making another attempt to win her. She would undoubtedly consider it inappropriate, even if she had changed her mind and was willing to accept him. But Staines’s suggestion was sensible. She needed to keep up her strength.

  There was no change in Jeremy’s condition, but at least he was no worse. The doctor, when he appeared, seemed satisfied.

  ‘The lump on his head is getting smaller and there is no sign of the open wound becoming infected,’ he said, after examining Jeremy closely. ‘Continue the sponging. If he wakes try to get him to take some chicken broth. I will come back tomorrow.’

  Nicholas went to look for Catarina, eventually finding her in her small still room, pounding some dried herbs for use in the kitchen.

  ‘I intend to drive up to the Grange to talk to Trubshaw. Staines believes Jeremy is worried about something. Will you come with me?’

  Catarina opened her mouth to speak and Nicholas, convinced she was about to refuse, went on hurriedly, ‘You know the estate, better even than Trubshaw, and we might be able to settle whatever it is and tell Jeremy. It might help quiet him. Besides, you look pale, and a drive in the fresh air would do you good. You cannot afford to become ill. Too many people depend on you.’

  Catarina hesitated, then nodded.

  ‘Very well, my lord. I confess it would be pleasant to get out of doors and though it is cold, for once it is a sunny day. I will be finished here in ten minutes, and then I will change.’

  ‘I will have my horses put to. I’ve been using your stables, in case I had a sudden need for my curricle. We are all so grateful for your hospitality.’

  They spoke very little on the way to the Grange, commonplace remarks about the weather, the state of the farms, work which needed to be done, but Nicholas was satisfied. Catarina seemed more at ease. When Jeremy recovered she might be prepared to listen to him.

  They found Mr Trubshaw in the estate office. He immediately asked how Jeremy was.

  ‘Mr Brooke’s valet gives me a bulletin. I have not been to enquire myself because I did not wish to add more pressure on you, my lady.’

  ‘We understand,’ Catarina said.

  ‘My brother seems to be fretting about something. We wondered whether there is some unfinished business, something he was discussing with you just before he was attacked? If we could tell him all is well, it might aid his recovery.’

  ‘There were the usual estate matters,’ Trubshaw said, ‘but Mr Brooke would be content to leave those to me, as he has done while he was away. The only new thing which might be causing him to worry is a deputation which came to see him the day before he was attacked.’

  ‘A deputation? From the village?’ Catarina asked. ‘That sounds as though it is an important matter. What did they want?’

  ‘They came to say it had been such a bad harvest this year they had barely enough grain to feed themselves this coming winter. They also needed to slaughter more animals than usual, including some of the oxen used for ploughing. In the spring they would have to purchase more, so they asked whether Mr Brooke would help, by not asking for rents.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Nicholas asked.

  ‘He said he wanted to talk more with them, and he would come to the village on the following day to see them. He told me afterwards that he meant to see their grain stores for himself and count their animals, before he decided. But he was quite willing to consider the idea. And I know what they said wa
s correct.’

  ‘Do you think he may have been on that errand when he was attacked?’

  ‘These men were sensible ones? Not hotheads?’ Catarina asked.

  He reeled off a list of names.

  ‘They were mainly the ones who had agreed to amalgamate their holdings, with a couple of others.’

  ‘Then tell them, please, on my authority, that they need pay no rent this quarter. We will consider it again come next Lady Day.’

  They left Mr Trubshaw looking happier than when they arrived and promising to go and inform the villagers at once.

  Nicholas was thoughtful as they began to drive back towards the Dower House.

  ‘I do not believe these fellows were the ones who attacked Jeremy. He would have agreed with them and told them so.’

  ‘They are not the troublemakers,’ Catarina said slowly. ‘I know them all and they are honest and hardworking, all of them.’

  ‘Then can you hazard a guess who was responsible?’

  ‘There is Dan, he’s grown wilder and more strange this year, but no one can find him. He has friends in the village, young men who do not have regular work, but depend on finding it at times like the harvest, and who must be suffering even worse than the others.’

  ‘Can you name a few?’

  ‘I can suspect some, but I might be wrong. It would be impossible to prove anything if they all deny it.’

  ‘I’ll make it my business to see them in a day or so, when Jeremy is better. If he recovers.’

  ‘Of course he will. My lord, you must not despair. He is already improving. When you tell him what you have done for the villagers, surely that will ease him.’

  For a few hours it did seem as though the news soothed Jeremy, but that night he became more feverish, and tossed and turned so that it was all Nicholas and Chettle could do to calm him. Catarina, hearing his groans, went to see if she could help and, when she saw the state he was in, sent straight away for the doctor.

  For two more days Jeremy suffered a high fever, and Nicholas barely slept. They all feared for his life, and Nicholas vowed that if he died all those who had attacked his brother would hang, if it took him the rest of his own life to track them down.