My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance)

by Hazel Statham

  Shrugging his shoulders, but mindful that he should not lose his fee, the doctor produced yet another ominous looking phial with the instructions that he was to be called immediately should there be the slightest deterioration of his patient’s condition.

  Being ushered out of the room some few minutes later this estimable individual avowed his intention of returning later in the day and in the meantime ordered that the revered duke must stay abed, not so much as attempting to put his feet to the floor or he would not vouch for the consequences.

  Mentally consigning his tormentor to the devil and with mounting irritation at his own continued weakness, the duke instructed Hills to seek out the coachman to find out how long it would take to complete the repairs. He did not intend to remain inactive for any longer than was necessary when so much was at stake.

  The thought that they were within reach of Harry constantly gnawed at Jane’s consciousness but her anxiety for Robert also weighed heavily, the depth of it taking her quite by surprise. Beginning to despair of her charge, she tried to soothe his mood. “I assure you, sir, the delay will not alter the course of things. Indeed, to attempt to travel in your condition would cause more problems than it would resolve.”

  For her troubles, she was rewarded with a wan smile. “Poor girl, am I driving you to distraction?” he asked, contrition heavy in his voice and he took her hand as she put a compress to his brow. “I fear it is now your turn to administer to me. However, I will do my best not to be nauseous. I would not wish it on you.”

  “For that I am grateful, sir,” she responded, smiling, relieved that at last he seemed calmer. “I do not have your fortitude when presented with such a situation. Now do you think you would try to eat something before Sgt. Patterson arrives, though I suspect not the gruel that the good doctor prescribed?”

  He grinned ruefully. “Most definitely not the gruel. I require something far more substantial. Perhaps I can persuade you to procure some ham and eggs for me from the kitchen. Better still, if you would but allow it, I could rise and order my own.”

  “That you will not, sir,” she said rising to the bait, as he knew she would. “I will place the order myself.”

  Then as she gained the door, he called to her, “Jane…”

  Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Yes, sir?”

  All levity gone, he said in deepened tones, “Thank you!”

  After only the slightest hesitation she was gone, it would not do to tarry when he looked at her just so. Once outside the door she stood on the small ill-lit landing at the head of a set of rickety stairs. The warmth in his eyes and voice had brought a heated flush to her face and she cradled her cheeks in her cool hands before descending to the kitchen to order the meal.

  ***

  Hills returning to the inn about an hour later, found his employer to be somewhat revived. The food had done much to restore some of his strength, enough at least for him to be sitting up in the bed and demanding to know his findings. Jane, having repaired to her own room to change, had admonished Hills not to tire the duke and left him to face his employer alone.

  “I’m afraid the news is not good, your grace,” he said somberly. “The carriage is considerably damaged and the wheeler is quite lame. The coachman informs me that it will take at least a week to repair the vehicle and the village is so small that they do not keep any coaching teams.”

  “Damnation,” swore the duke forcefully. “We are hampered at every turn. How far are we now from Elvas?”

  “Hopefully, about a day, your grace.”

  “So close. Yet this forced inactivity halts our progress,” and then to himself, “Jane must be at her wit’s end. It is unforgivable.”

  He thought for a moment and then turned to Hills once more. “If there are no coaching teams, find what mounts are available. If necessary, as soon as I am able to leave this accursed bed, we can continue on horseback. You can accompany us and the coach can follow with the luggage when it is repaired. Say nothing to Miss Chandler; I do not want her troubled any more than is necessary.”

  “As you wish, your grace, but is it wise?”

  “Wise be damned!”

  Hills withdrew to set about his task, which even to himself seemed impossible. It was a poor village with very few dwellings and whatever horses he had seen were work animals, neither suitable nor available for hiring. However, he was nothing if not resourceful and set out to explore all avenues.

  The morning passed slowly, or so it seemed to the duke in his enforced idleness. For as much as he drifted in and out of sleep the hours seemed not to progress. However, he soon became aware that Jane continually remained at his side, her delicate features showing her concern. Fascinated, he watched her small, graceful hands that appeared so capable as she smoothed his covers or adjusted his pillows, impatiently awaiting Hills’ return.

  Just before noon, Jane informed him that Sgt. Patterson had arrived and waited in the taproom below for permission to speak to him.

  “Then bring him up,” said Robert straightening himself against the pillows, “and we shall see why he has requested this interview.” He realized that everything he believed in should have rebelled against the thought of receiving a deserter, a traitor, into his presence, but the fact that Patterson and his men had come so readily to their aid demanded that he should at least be civil to the man.

  Within a few minutes Jane ushered a small wiry individual, dressed in the green and gold uniform of the rifles, into his presence and then turning for the door made to leave saying “Sgt. Patterson wishes to speak to you privately, sir.”

  “No, Jane, stay,” he responded. “I am sure there is nothing that cannot be said in your presence, is there Patterson?”

  The sergeant looked a little uncertainly at the duke but said; “I’m sure that if you wish the lady to be present, sir, it is not for me to say otherwise,” and he marched smartly to the foot of the bed and saluted.

  “You may stand easy, Patterson, I am not of the military,” the duke said, indicating that he should take the chair at the side of the bed.

  The sergeant sat on the edge of the chair, appearing ill at ease, he knew not what to expect and, as his grace seemed disinclined to open the conversation, he thought he should make at least some attempt. “Glad to see you looking more up to the nines, sir, even though you do look as if you’ve just been sparring with the great Jackson himself. You gave us quite a fright when we saw you so sparked out, thought you’d gone and snuffed it, but the miss said you were still breathing, so we put you on a carriage door and brought you here to the inn. It was the best we could do, sir, there is no other village for miles.”

  Robert slightly inclined his head. “You did well, I am grateful to you and your men. The outcome could have been quite different had you not intervened.”

  Patterson sat upright in his chair as if preparing himself for a rebuff. “You understand what they—we—are, sir? Deserters!”

  “I am fully aware of your situation, is that why you requested this interview? Are you hoping that I could intercede on your behalf, for I must warn you that it would be impossible? I have no sway whatsoever with the military.”

  Patterson stiffened slightly. “Nothing of the sort, sir, we are all responsible for our own actions.” He took an audible breath before continuing in a quieter tone. “I wanted to speak to you of your brother.”

  Robert was all attention. “You knew him?”

  “Not personally, more by reputation. Brigade-Major Lord Blake was well known and highly thought of throughout the ranks. He was said to be a fiery, energetic young officer. There are only two kinds of officers, your grace, the Go-ons and the Come-ons. Your brother was very much a Come-on. He would not ask his men to do anything he wasn’t prepared to do himself, very forward going. That, I’m afraid, was his undoing. Though I’m sure I need not inform you, sir, of the circumstances of his death?”

  “No,” Robert replied with a deadly calm, all remaining vestige of c
olor draining from his bruised countenance.

  Jane, not wishing to intrude on the interview, had positioned herself by the small window that overlooked the village street but she forsook her post and came to stand facing Patterson at the duke’s side.

  Patterson looked somewhat nervous now, slightly uncertain of the response he was to receive, but continued, “I wondered if you were aware of the child, sir?”

  There was an almost imperceptible delay before the duke expostulated with a great confusion, “Child? What child? I am not aware of any child. Whose child?”

  “Major Lord Blake’s, sir!”

  ***

  There followed a shocked silence, Jane placing her hand on the duke’s shoulder as much to reassure as to deter him from rising. He looked at her in disbelief, as if expecting her to deny what they had just heard, but no denial came. She knew as little of the situation as did he.

  “My brother was married?” he asked incredulously, appearing only slightly calmer.

  “No, sir.”

  “Then how…?”

  “Some of the officers’ families travel with the camp followers; Major Lord Blake formed an attachment with Sara, the young daughter of Sgt. Coombes in Leith’s Division. I believe they planned to marry, sir, but then the major received his injuries… and died.”

  He saw the lines deepen around the duke’s mouth, as he almost whispered, “Go on, and the girl?”

  “She was but seventeen sir and disowned by her parents, the child was born about six months ago in the Convent of Adoratricesa, near Badajos. The mother died in child bed, and the child has remained in the care of the sisters. When I spoke to Miss Chandler and she told me that you have come to Portugal to help her brother, I had thought you to have come also to secure the child, but she made no mention of it so I wondered if you were aware of its existence?”

  A long silence pervaded the room before finally the duke almost breathed, “Boy or girl?”

  “Girl, I do believe, sir.”

  The duke exhaled slowly, releasing the breath he wasn’t aware he held. “Stefan’s—daughter!”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Then she shall come home to Stovely, shall she not Jane?” he said quietly, turning to look at her and placing his hand over hers as it still rested on his shoulder.

  “Most certainly, sir,” she responded. “She could become your ward. She could not wish for a better guardian, I’m sure.”

  “As soon as I am able, I shall go to the Convent of Adoratricesa. She will not be left parentless in a foreign land. I am sure it is what Stefan would have wished.”

  Feeling his mission to be complete the sergeant rose. “When you are fit to leave, sir, I will send Proctor to you to guide you to the convent; he is a good man and can be relied on. It would be safer if Miss Chandler did not accompany you into Spain, you would not meet with any sympathy should you cross paths with the French. Indeed, sir, I would go with you myself but I am needed here.”

  Still appearing distracted, Robert gave a brief nod. “Your man’s guidance will be sufficient, though I would not wish to put him at risk on my account. He must not travel in uniform.”

  “He will not, sir, but he has a good command of the French and Spanish tongue and therefore will prove of value to you. Send word when you are ready to recommence your journey.”

  “It will be soon, I promise you. I will send Hills to you when we are able to leave.”

  Taking this as a dismissal, Sgt. Patterson snapped to attention and saluted once more before departing to return to his men. He left a very weary and perplexed invalid to stare after him, all manner of thoughts tumbling through Robert’s mind.

  “Now, sir, it is time you took some rest,” Jane said, taking charge of the situation once more. “Your visitor has completely worn you out; indeed you look even paler than before.”

  “But a daughter, Jane… imagine… Stefan has a daughter. I could never have envisaged such an outcome. If we had not taken this journey, I would never have known of her existence. Indeed, to have lost one parent is a tragedy, but the poor child has been left motherless into the bargain. What sort of brother would I be if I let the situation rest when it is within my power to put it to rights?”

  “We will not let the situation rest, Robert,” she soothed. “Now that we are aware of the child’s existence all will be done that can be. Now for my sake rest or when the doctor returns he will certainly insist on you remaining abed even longer.”

  The good doctor did indeed show great concern over his patient when he arrived some few hours later, stating to Hills that he thought the duke might even be succumbing to a fever, his brow was so hot and his eyes so bright. Even though he knew he risked his patent’s fiery temper, nothing would do but that he would insist upon cupping him.

  For once receiving no opposition, he commanded Jane to hold the dish as he opened the vein in Robert’s arm, allowing the blood to flow freely.

  On his departure he issued orders that only broth should be served when required and definitely no ale or spirits.

  The duke slept a deep healing sleep, oblivious of the concern he was causing, Jane forever at his bedside as the day progressed into evening. Hills brought her sustenance at suppertime only to be refused, she had no thoughts for food in her anxiety for her companion.

  Eventually Hills was able to persuade her to lie on her truckle bed as she saw the duke was sleeping a deal easier and taking her place at his master’s bedside he promised to wake her at the slightest change.

  ***

  Morning brought a considerable improvement in Robert’s health. He awoke as dawn crept through the garret’s small window and pulled himself upright against his pillows.

  Seeing that his employer was awake, Hills was on the point of waking Jane but in a hushed voice, the duke ordered that she be left undisturbed.

  For a long moment, he allowed his eyes to rest on her sleeping countenance, taking in her softened features, his own softening in his contemplation. It was with some reluctance that he returned his attention to Hills who hovered uncertainly by the bed. Running his hand over the dark stubble that covered both cheek and chin he requested soap and razor and was relieved to find his hands steady enough to complete the task of shaving himself with a certain degree of efficiency. Never would he have welcomed the services of his valet more.

  As Hills removed the shaving implements, the duke said in the same hushed tones, “It is time to recommence our journey. Have you secured suitable mounts?”

  “I have been able to purchase three horses, sir,” Hills replied, “but whether you will think them suitable, I know not, but they are all that is available in the village.” He looked toward Jane’s sleeping form, still somewhat uncertain of the prudence of not waking her as she had directed the previous evening.

  The duke spoke with quiet determination. “Then I want you to contact Patterson and tell him that we intend to leave for Elvas today.”

  “You have not the strength, sir.”

  “I shall have whatever strength is necessary. Do not think to cross me in this.”

  Whilst Hills was below stairs ordering breakfast before seeking out Patterson, Robert threw back the covers to rise, using the back of the chair that stood at the side of the bed as support. He was not prepared for the weakness that threatened to overcome him as he raised himself from the mattress but he forced himself to a standing position. With great effort, he donned his breeches and shirt that been placed over a screen to the right of the bed but as his head still swam with the effort of rising, he deemed it wise not to attempt to try to retrieve his top boots. It would involve reaching under the bed and he was not certain that his head would survive the effort. He was just in the process of drawing on his hose when Jane stirred and caught sight of him sitting on the side of the bed. She gave a cry of surprise and was immediately on her feet.

  “Whatever are you doing out of bed?” she demanded hastening to his side.

  “As you see, my dear, I am get
ting dressed,” he replied, continuing with his task. “I have lain abed long enough. Must needs we now go to Harry and the babe.”

  “What is the sense of setting out on a journey that will almost certainly spell disaster?” she pleaded. Then as if playing her trump card, “We have no carriage, so how do you intend to proceed? Tell me that!”

  “We are more resourceful than that, my girl,” he teased, attempting to lighten her obvious anxiety for his health. “Hills has managed to acquire three mounts, we should be able to reach Elvas by nightfall.” He placed his hands on her shoulders as she stood before him and in a softer voice said, “My kind little nurse, I have thwarted your plans long enough. I shall do well enough, believe me. We now have two goals to achieve and neither will wait.”

  Seeing the concern in her eyes, he returned to his heartening manner. “Come now, Jane, don’t be so poor-spirited. All will be well. To use your own turn of phrase, I am as right as a trivet! See, I can even bend to put my boots on.” So saying he leaned forward to retrieve them from beneath the bed whereupon she was instantly on her knees ready to assist.

  Pushing him upright, she reached for the boots herself. “It will not do for you to try too much so soon,” she chided. “If you will disregard all sense, at least be prepared to accept assistance.”

  “Humph,” was his only reply.

  Chapter Five

  Proctor, a tall, well-built man with swarthy features stood eyeing the three animals now tethered outside the small inn. He would not qualify them with the name of horses for none could aspire to that title. The small roan mare fitted with the ladies saddle had been pretty enough in her prime, but through long misuse was now sway-backed and broken winded. The black cob, again quite aged, stood with head almost to the ground, a very dejected sight. It was to the huge grey Portuguese with soup-plate hooves that youth belonged, but the rolling of his eyes in his long head and the unwillingness to have a saddle fitted proclaimed his rawness. Proctor looked to his own bay mount that he had not thought to have been of quality but, in comparison to the trio that stood before him, looked like a thoroughbred fresh out of Tattersals.