by Wilma Counts
“A—all right,” Ned said with a sob. “It hurts real bad.”
“I know it does, lad. Did that myself once—and I was much older than you. I remember I cried like a baby.”
“You did?” Ned asked in wonder.
“Sure did.” Robert walked over to one of the prisoners and ordered him to remove his jacket. The man looked puzzled, but did as he was told. “Now the shirt,” Robert said, then exchanged the jacket for the shirt and ripped the shirt into strips from which he fashioned a sling for Ned’s arm.
Jeremy was impressed with both the tenderness and expertise with which Robert handled the boy. Cassie appeared to be uninjured and immediately went to stand next to Ned and commiserate with him. “That old man hit Ned,” she announced. “See his face?”
“Hit him? Why?” Jeremy asked.
“ ’Cause Ned said we didn’t want to go with them. The man hit him and said he’d do as he was told or else. We was really, really scared, Papa. Wasn’t we, Ned?” She took Ned’s good hand and held it gently. Ned nodded.
“Get me out of here!” Nurse Cranstan’s abrasive whine came from the carriage.
Jeremy sighed. “Let’s see if we can get this coach upright and get her out.”
Soon enough the vehicle was somewhat upright—one wheel was broken and bent—and the irate female was allowed out of it. Her complaints reached a new pitch when—none too gently—they searched her for a weapon, then parked her with the other prisoners.
“The duke?” Robert asked.
Jeremy reached into the carriage and felt for the duke’s pulse. “He’s alive, but unconscious.”
Not knowing the extent of his injuries and trying not injure him further, Jeremy and Robert struggled to get the still unconscious duke out of the carriage and lying on the ground.
“Careful,” Jeremy warned. “It may be a back or a neck injury. We need something flat to put him on.”
Using rope found in a storage compartment in the rear of the carriage, Kenrick’s men bound their five prisoners. The four men seemed docile, resigned to whatever was coming. Miss Cranstan, though, continued to harangue and complain. It was indecent to tie her up with these men. The rope on her wrists was too tight. A woman deserved far better treatment, and so on and on.
Porter checked the rope on her wrists and, pronouncing it to be all right just as it was, added, “Woman, this treatment ain’t nothin’ to what you’ll get on one o’ them ships to New South Wales. Kidnappin’ is a serious crime.”
At this she went very pale and set to sobbing loudly. “They made me come—to—to help with the child. I’m just a nursemaid.”
“Oh, shut up!” one of the other prisoners growled. “ ’Twas your idea—partly, anyways. You it was told the duke you knew the layout o’ the Hall. Quit yer caterwaulin’.”
She subsided to an occasional snort or deep, pitiable sigh that everyone managed without much difficulty to ignore.
As Lawrence and Phillips continued to keep watch over the prisoners, the others managed to wrest the bottom of the driver’s seat from the carriage to serve as a brace and they then tied the duke to it to prevent his moving around. He groaned a time or two, but remained insensible to his surroundings. His breathing was steady, but labored.
Jeremy dispatched Jack to race back to the Hall to inform Kate that they had successfully rescued the children. “Don’t tell her the boy is injured, though. Spare her that worry ’til we get there.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I’ll ride into the village and get us some transportation,” Robert offered. “Hank, you come with me.”
Weston and Porter gathered up the horses and then they all settled down to wait for Robert and Hank to return. Jeremy sat on the grass with Cassie under one arm and Ned under the other. Ned cradled his injured arm and occasionally drew in a long, almost sobbing breath.
“I know it hurts, son,” Jeremy said, checking the sling. “We’ll try to keep it very still until we can get you to the doctor.”
“What will he do to me?” Ned asked between shuddering breaths.
“He’ll set the bone to make sure it heals properly.”
“Will it hurt?”
“I’m afraid so, but afterwards, it shouldn’t hurt so much anymore.” Jeremy touched the boy’s head, wishing he could absorb the child’s pain himself. “You are being very brave, Ned. Your mama will be proud of you.”
“Does mama know?”
“I sent Jack to tell her you are safe, but I’m sure she will worry until we get there.”
Ned nodded sagely.
Very late in the afternoon, it was quite a procession of two vehicles and a small herd of horses that made its way back to the town of Kenrick. Besides a chaise and a farm wagon, Robert had procured bread and cheese for a hurried lunch. Jeremy thought perhaps Robert took seriously that adage about an army’s traveling on its stomach. The duke’s inert form was laid out on the wagon and his employees, Miss Cranstan among them, were arranged beside him.
“Not quite Wynstan’s usual form of travel,” Robert noted as he mounted his own horse, prepared with Lawrence and Weston to ride guard as Hank drove the wagonload of miscreants. Porter drove the chaise and Jeremy rode inside with the two children.
Miss Cranstan complained bitterly that she should ride in the chaise, but Jeremy thought Cassie and Ned had endured enough of her company.
In Kenrick, Wynstan’s four remaining men were crowded into the only jail cell the town boasted; Nurse Cranstan was locked in one room at the inn, and the still unconscious duke was put into another. Dr. Ferris was called to treat Ned first, then the duke.
As soon as Ned’s broken arm was set and the plaster cast dry enough, Jeremy set out with the children in the chaise for Kenrick Hall. Even though he had sent Jack ahead to give her the good news, Jeremy knew that Kate would continue to worry, that she would not be satisfied until she was able to fold her arms around her son.
Despite intermittent efforts to distract herself from worry with trivial tasks, Kate had spent most of this day fretting, and most of it in Lady Elinor’s company. She was grateful for the older woman’s companionship. By mid-afternoon, the two of them had moved into the family drawing room where Lady Elinor reclined on a couch and Kate sat in a nearby chair—when she sat. Jack’s terse report that the rescue mission was a success had lifted a load of worry, but anxiety still clawed at her.
“You will surely wear that carpet right down to the boards beneath with all that pacing,” Lady Elinor told her. “Come, dear. Let’s have another chapter of Mrs. Edgeworth’s novel now that we know the children are safe.”
Kate gave a rueful laugh and glanced at the clock on the mantel yet again. “You’re right. I just wish we could brush away minutes as we brush away dust. I hate this waiting.”
“I know, dear, but ‘they also serve who only stand and wait.’ ”
“I doubt this kind of waiting is what Milton had in mind. Ah, well—” Kate sat and opened the book. “Now, where were we? ‘Chapter four . . .’ ”
In the early evening, the two women were having yet another cup of tea when they at last heard the carriage arrive. Dashing into the foyer, Kate was astonished to see Jeremy enter carrying a sleeping Ned in his arms, with Cassie walking beside them. Both children were still dressed in their nightclothes, though their captors had taken time to put shoes on them and find outer coats for them. Kate’s eyes immediately riveted on the plaster cast on her son’s arm.
“Oh!” she gasped, reaching to touch Ned’s head. “He’s hurt! Jack did not tell us—”
“His arm was broken when the carriage overturned, but he’s fine now. He truly is,” Jeremy assured her.
“Why is he unconscious?”
“Dr. Ferris gave him a very small dose of laudanum to ease the pain as he set the bone. Ned will sleep for quite some time, even though Ferris was careful about the amount for a child. Now, let us get our patient into his own room and I will tell you the entire story.”
&nbs
p; “Of course.” Kate dutifully stepped aside and quickly enfolded Cassie in a tight hug. “Are you all right, my dear?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ned was very brave. He didn’t cry much at all, did he, Papa?”
“You were both very brave,” Jeremy said, starting up the stairs, “and we are very proud of you.”
“We was real scared,” Cassie said in a sober tone. “The carriage, it was going real fast. I think Miss Cranstan was scared, too, but she was real mean an’ that old man, he was even meaner. He hit Ned! An’ said he’d get more when we got where we was going. An’ then the carriage went even faster an’ there was shots an’ then the carriage turned over an’ we was all tangled together an’ then Papa got us out. I was so-o-o glad to see Papa.”
“I am sure you were.” Although still concerned for Ned and anxious to see him cared for, Kate could not help being both alarmed and amused by Cassie’s account and hugged her again.
They arrived at the nursery wing to find both Rosie and Nell waiting for them, though Rosie had been told Nell would take her place until Rosie herself was fully recovered from the blow she had suffered that morning. Kate was sure the proud Rosie was not about to give her place in the nursery even to her own sister.
Kate rushed ahead into Ned’s room and turned down the covers on his bed. When Jeremy lowered his small form, she bent to kiss Ned’s cheek and ran her hands over the rest of his body, careful not to jar his broken arm. Touching him was as important as seeing him in this miracle of his return.
“Is Ned going to bed in his shoes?” Cassie asked from the foot of the bed.
Jeremy chuckled. “No. We must not allow him to do that.” He removed the boy’s shoes and tucked Ned’s legs under the covers.
“When is he going to wake up?” Cassie demanded. “We have things to talk about.”
Kate exchanged a glance with Jeremy and they both smiled at Cassie’s very adult proclamation. As Jeremy gently pushed his daughter toward the door, he said, “Ned will not wake up for a while—when he does, you will be in bed asleep yourself. You can talk to him in the morning. Now, let’s have Nell get you a bath and some supper. And where do you suppose that infernal kitten has hidden all day?” He turned at the door and mouthed I’ll be back to Kate.
Cassie giggled. “Oh, Papa! Lady Lobo isn’t ’fernal. There she is!” She scooped the kitten into her arms and danced around with it, saying, “I missed you so much!”
“I’ll be back later to read you a story,” Jeremy said, turning his daughter over to Nell.
Kate had seen most of this father-daughter colloquy and heard all of it through the open door of Ned’s room. She sat in a chair near the head of his bed so she could reach to touch his warm cheek or straighten already smoothed blankets.
Jeremy came in and stood near her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Dr. Ferris said it would be good if he would sleep for several hours—maybe sleep through the worst of the pain. It was a clean break, he said, and should heal nicely. Ned really was very brave the whole time—just gritted his teeth and endured. I’ve known grown men to be far less stoic in the face of pain.”
Kate looked up at him through tears in her eyes. “Thank you for bringing my child back to me.”
He pulled her to her feet and stood, just holding her close. “Mine too,” he said softly, “but it’s over now.”
She nodded her head against his chest, then lifted her tear-filled gaze to his. “I—I don’t know why I am such a watering pot. I did not cry all day! And now they are safe.... It doesn’t make sense!”
“Relief?”
He lifted her chin to shower soft kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, and finally her lips. It was a tender whisper of a kiss—at first. Then she reached her arms around his neck, her hands in his hair, her body straining to blend with his, and kissed him back fiercely. She felt his body immediately respond, but he stepped back: reluctantly, it seemed to her.
“Come, Kate. Ned is safe now and he will probably sleep through the night.”
She felt bereft at the separation, but assumed a normal tone. “What if Wynstan tries to snatch him again?”
“He won’t. At least not for a while. The duke was injured in the accident.”
“Badly?”
“I don’t know. He was still unconscious when I left, but the doctor was with him. Now, come. Nell and Rosie will keep watch here and call us if we are needed. Aunt Elinor will be anxious to hear what happened.”
Kate bent to kiss Ned’s warm cheek again, overwhelmed by the fact that he was, indeed, safe. The fear and nearly unbearable tension of this day was over.
Back in the drawing room they found Lady Elinor exactly as Jeremy had described her: anxious to hear the news.
Jeremy poured sherry at an oak sideboard, and passed glasses to Kate and his aunt. “I think we’ve all earned this.”
He settled himself into one of two wing-backed chairs flanking a small oak table, on which sat a porcelain lamp and an eight-inch-tall jade figurine. Kate occupied the matching chair and Lady Elinor sat across from them on a settee with worn upholstery but magnificently carved wooden arms and legs. Jeremy launched into an account of the rescue mission.
He had just finished by saying, “Thank God for Robert’s military expertise. It helped tremendously.”
“Did I just hear my name taken in vain?” Robert asked, entering the room with Lawrence and Phillips right behind him.
Jeremy laughed and rose to greet them. “Not at all. In fact, I was singing your praises. May I get you fine fellows something to drink?”
Robert eyed the sherry glasses and affected a Scots brogue. “Hmm. Perhaps a wee dram of the brew of the Scot?”
“Coming right up.” Jeremy poured three generous glasses of whiskey and handed them to the newcomers. Robert sat next to his aunt and the other two sank into overstuffed chairs nearby.
“How’s my favorite girl?” Robert asked his aunt flirtatiously.
“My dear boy,” she said in a loud stage whisper, “you have that bit of blather down very pat now, so you can stop practicing on an old woman.”
Robert grinned and shrugged and the others laughed.
“So, what is the latest?” Jeremy asked, reseating himself.
Robert’s demeanor sobered. “The magistrate is holding an informal hearing later in the week. We have to be there. The Bow Street Runner had intended to return to London today, but when he heard what happened here this morning, he stayed on.”
“I never cease to be amazed at the speed with which news travels in the country,” Phillips said.
“What did the doctor say about Wynstan?” Jeremy asked.
Robert sipped his drink and said, “That news is not good at all. The man is paralyzed.”
“Oh, dear,” Lady Elinor said and Kate drew in a sharp breath.
“He regained consciousness while the doctor was examining him just after you left,” Robert said to Jeremy. “He can move his arms, doc says, and has only slight difficulty breathing, but he has no feeling in his legs at all.”
Kate drew in another sharp breath. She had no love for her father-in-law, but such a condition would be intolerable for a man of his temperament.
“Is it permanent?” Jeremy asked, and Kate thought he too had a shred of sympathy for the man who had been so ruthlessly indifferent to the feelings of others.
“Doc couldn’t say for sure,” Robert answered. “Too early, but he thought the prognosis was not good. He did not tell the duke—not yet, anyway. I suppose Wynstan will figure that out for himself soon enough.” Robert’s tone had become rather bleak—and Kate recognized it as the voice of a man who had seen too many battlefield wounds.
“How very, very sad,” Lady Elinor said.
“I agree: it is sad,” Lawrence said, “and mine may be an extreme view, but it does make one think of the hand of God, Providence, fate—or poetic justice.”
Everyone was quiet for several moments after this comment; then Robert drained his glass
and set it on a low table in front of the settee. “Am I the only one of us who is famished? We left before breakfast and did not have much in the way of lunch,” he said apologetically to the ladies.
Kate jumped up. “I can remedy that problem.”
“Kate, I did not mean—” Robert started.
“No. No.” She assured him. “I am so immensely grateful to you—to all of you.” Her gaze swept over the four men, but rested on Jeremy. She wrenched her eyes away. “I’ll check with cook right away.”
CHAPTER 21
The next day was relatively quiet at Kenrick Hall as everyone seemed to be adjusting to the near-tragedy of the previous day and the change in status of the Hall’s housekeeper. It’s like the whole of Kenrick has put on a new cloak, Kate thought, and is trying to see how it fits. She was glad to see Ned already on the mend and enjoying being the center of attention, but she was still worried about his future. Her worry extended also to Jeremy. She most assuredly did not want to be the cause of any setbacks in his plans for his own future. She invited Mr. Phillips and Major Lawrence to join her for a stroll in the garden.
“I need your advice,” she said without preamble, “on what to do about Ned and since you are his guardians—”
“I just assumed he would be staying here with you,” Lawrence said.
Phillips abruptly stopped walking and faced her and Lawrence. “Are you suggesting that Kenrick will not have your son here when you marry? That does not sound like the Jeremy I know.”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “Lord Kenrick has been very kind, but I—we—cannot stay here.”
“But your betrothal—” Lawrence started.
“Is a sham. It was a plan Jer—Lord Kenrick concocted to divert gossip after Wynstan made—uh—certain comments. There seems no need for that diversion now.”
“A sham?” Phillips repeated. “Are you sure Jeremy views it as such?”
“Oh, yes. We agreed that after a suitable time I could cry off.”
“Sounds a little havey-cavey to me,” Lawrence said, then walked on in thoughtful silence for a moment. Finally, he added, “I would invite you and Ned to stay with me, but, as you know, mine is also a bachelor household. And one without a Lady Elinor in residence.”
