by Mira Stables
“And you are to stay here,” went on Graine, almost fiercely. “Whatever happens you are to stay here until Benedict brings help. You understand?”
Beatrice nodded mutely. She understood only too well. In the next few minutes she might well see Miss Ashley swept to her death, without being able to lift a finger to help.
Graine wasted no more time. The path led directly to the ledge of rock where the children were trapped. Water was swirling over it, but it was no more than an inch deep. She took no unnecessary risks. On the wet rock a slip or a stumble was all too probable. It was no time to be considering one’s dignity. She dropped to all fours and crawled steadily to the beginning of the ledge. Here the surface water was a little deeper and spray from the falling flood was continually dashed into her face, half blinding her and filling her nostrils, but she struggled on until she reached the rock that she had noted from the bank. Here she paused for a moment, clinging to the rock with one hand while she dashed the water from her face with the other and filled her aching lungs. The next bit of her passage was the dangerous part. No use delaying. She was frightened enough already. She gripped the edge of her friendly rock and set off.
For a moment, as the weight of the falling water struck her, she thought that she had been swept from her refuge into the stream itself. Had it not been for the partial shelter she had found, she must have perished in the churning brown water of the pool. Thanks to her grasp on the rock, somehow she inched her way forward, deafened, battered, intent only on reaching the two castaways whom she could now see clearly. Then she was through, and crawling along the rock towards them.
They were still very precariously placed. Even where the ledge was widest, no more than three or four feet separated them from tumbling water. Graine settled herself between the children, an arm round each, hugging them close to her, trying to assure them that help was on the way. They seemed to be half dazed and she could not tell if they had understood, or even if they had heard her, but they clutched her fiercely as though she was their one hope and she held them tight and crooned a little wordless song that none of them could hear amid the clamour of the water, but which somehow comforted Graine. It was as though she was defying the flood to do its worst, saying that she had the children safe and would keep them so.
Nevertheless it seemed a very long time before the rescue party arrived. Graine watched the racing water. Was she imagining it, or was the level already falling slightly? Presently she was sure of it. There was less water on the ledge itself, though there was still a substantial stream coming down from the fault. By the time that Benedict, with half a dozen grooms and two long ladders came panting up the last flight of steps that led to the fall, the ledge on which the three prisoners were sitting was practically clear of standing water.
From that point the work of rescue went swiftly if not without difficulty. With the ladder to provide a reasonable hold, the first groom managed to reach the ledge much as Graine had done. The ledge was now distinctly overpopulated and its occupants had to move with extreme care, but with Graine’s assistance Adam was successfully roped to the groom’s back and carried along the ladder-bridge to safety. A second man performed a like service for Bridget. Graine felt very much like saying that she would wait until the flood subsided. Once – and without a ladder – was enough. But such an admission was unworthy of her Ashley blood. Nor would she consent to being carried, though, as the groom pointed out, she was not so much heavier than Miss Bridget. Instead she agreed to having a rope tied about her in case of mishap and scrambled across the ladder on hands and knees, arriving just in time to be assisted to dry land by no less a person than the Earl himself, who, with Dominic, had just arrived on the scene.
Soaked, battered, dishevelled, she stared up at him dumbly, vainly seeking words to express her contrition. There were no such words in her vocabulary. Then the groom who was hauling the ladder ashore slipped on the wet rock just as he had the ladder poised almost vertically. It jerked from his grasp and descended, it seemed with deliberate intent, to strike her a glancing blow on the side of her head. She subsided – perhaps thankfully – into unconsciousness.
Chapter Six
She woke in her own comfortable bed in the pleasant room that was beginning to feel like home. Her head ached badly, but her memory of the events of the morning was perfectly clear. Too clear, she thought with a slight shudder, recalling the moment when she had thought herself swept away by the stream. She could even remember the ladder tilting towards her and her attempt to avoid it. Running tenderly explorative fingers over her head she came to the conclusion that the attempt had not been successful. But at least the children were safe, and compared with that nothing else mattered very much.
Except the danger of dismissal. As this unpleasant thought suddenly occurred to her she jerked up her head sharply, causing it to throb more painfully than ever. There could be no evading the unpleasant truth. If she had gone with the children this morning they would never have been in danger. She would have noticed the increased volume of the stream and would certainly have forbidden them to risk going into the cave. It was true that his lordship had given her permission to take a morning’s holiday, but a truly conscientious governess would not have availed herself of that permission. The more she thought about it the more likely it seemed that she stood in grave danger of losing a post that suited her better than any she had ever held, and the thought that Dominic too, would be involved in her downfall was the last straw. She turned her aching head into the pillow and gave way to tears.
A cautious tap on her door, followed by the gentle lifting of the latch, put an end to this orgy of self pity. She hurriedly mopped her face and struggled up into a sitting position to confront her visitor, despite the pain in her head. It was Beatrice, carrying a small tray, which she set down on the table that stood beside the bed.
With a tact beyond her years the girl ignored the traces of tears and the occasional sob that still escaped the sufferer.
“Is your head very painful?” she enquired solicitously. “You have a great big lump on it where the ladder hit you, but Doctor Tempest said that there was no serious damage, and that you could get up as soon as you felt like it. And luckily your hair covers the bruise. Mrs Palmer has made you a cup of her herb tea, which she says will make you feel much more the thing, and Uncle Ross says that I am not to tease you to come down for dinner if you don’t feel able for it, though he is just as impatient as the rest of us, wanting to thank you for what you did for Adam and Bridget.”
Such an attitude did not seem to pose a threat of summary dismissal. Graine took heart, and sipped Mrs Palmer’s offering cautiously. It was quite pleasant to the palate. She thought she could detect mint and sweet balm. At least it was hot, and soothing to a tear-swollen throat. Beatrice chatted on casually, bringing her up to date on the state of the family. Bridget and Adam had been put to bed. Doctor Tempest did not think they were much the worse for their ordeal, but wished to guard against the possibility of a serious chill. They had both slept long and soundly throughout the afternoon, and were now in tearing spirits, very full of themselves and their adventure, and clamouring to get up.
“Any one would think that they had shown true heroism,” commented Beatrice, but her tone was indulgent.
“Well they were very plucky,” suggested Graine. “They did well to hold out until help reached them. It was quite terrifying, I promise you.”
“Bridget said she didn’t think she could have lasted much longer if you hadn’t got to them when you did,” said Beatrice quietly. “Oh, darling Rainey, how can we ever thank you enough? Uncle Ross says you were the heroine of the occasion and that we owe you a debt that we can never repay. Just imagine if we had had to write and tell Mama –” and her own voice was suspended by emotion.
Whether it was the effect of Mrs Palmer’s brew or of the heartening nature of these exchanges, Graine was beginning to feel very much better. This was fortunate, since there was another shock
in store for her. When she announced her intention of dressing and coming downstairs, and rather gingerly tried the effect of standing up, Beatrice, offering to help her dress, said shyly, “Do you have to put that horrid stuff on your face, Rainey? Dr Tempest made us wash it all off. And the – the – mole on the side of your nose washed off, too, though I think that was the soaking it got at the Cavern Fall,” she concluded hastily. She hesitated a moment, then burst out eagerly, “I’m sorry, Rainey. It was so strange that we asked Dominic. He admitted that it was a disguise, but he said that it was your secret. I don’t mean to pry. Indeed I’d help you, any way I could, especially after what you’ve done for us. But you look so sweet without it. We couldn’t help noticing the pads sewn into the shoulders of your shift, either. You’re not really lame, are you? Benedict said you weren’t. He’d noticed that already. All part of the disguise I suppose. Forgive me if I sound quizzy. I don’t mean to. Only surely you can trust us now, even if you couldn’t before. If there is some danger threatening you, can’t we help?”
It was a moment for truth. Beatrice had opened her heart. Graine could do no less.
“There was a danger,” she said slowly. “But because I was alone, I exaggerated it out of all proportions. Now, living here, in the heart of the family, I feel much safer. And I confess I will be truly thankful to be done with masquerading. It is amusing at first but soon grows wearisome and is very uncomfortable. It is not just the disguise, you see. That is simple. It is altering all your habits to match the disguise. If you only knew how I have longed to ride out with you all and have been compelled to stay stuffily at home. Not to mention sailing and swimming – because of the disguise, you understand. See what happened the first time I got a thorough soaking! Believe me, I shall be more than thankful to be done with it.”
“So shall we,” chuckled Beatrice contentedly. “Everything will be much more fun when you can share it with us.”
She insisted on unpicking the padding that had simulated the deformed shoulder, and chose Graine’s prettiest dress, though to be sure that was not saying a great deal, all of them having been chosen with an eye to sobriety. “And I’m sure your head will feel much more comfortable without that tight cap,” she concluded. “Let me dress your hair. I will be very gentle and careful. Mama sometimes lets me do hers.”
It was very pleasant to be fussed and babied in this affectionate way, but it was still something of an ordeal to face the assembled family at the dinner table. She could not help blushing a little as the little chorus of welcome greeted her changed appearance. His lordship said only, “Ah! I see,” in a reflective sort of voice. But Dominic and Benedict had no such inhibitions, the one announcing thankfully that he was glad he need no longer blush for a sister who was a positive antidote, the other much more interested in the methods with which the effect had been achieved, and asking hopefully if he might experiment with Rainey’s grease paints one day.
Graine’s attempts to express her contrition for her share in the morning’s events were courteously but very firmly silenced by his lordship.
“If any one must take sole responsibility, then I must,” he said quietly. “And if anyone should have foreseen possible danger, I should. I have lived here all my life and know how swiftly the streams can flood after persistent rain. I cannot acquit myself of heedlessness. Nor can I express my gratitude for the courage that you displayed. If you had not reached the children when you did, help might well have come too late. Benedict tells me, too, that it was you who sent for ladders and ropes. Competent as well as courageous. Once before I said to you that I thought I had underestimated your quality. I little knew how much. But I will not embarrass you with further praise. I think we would all be the better for a new topic of conversation. Are you going to take Crusader in hand for me, Dominic, and get him into condition for the hunting season?”
The talk thereafter centred on horses, the Earl regretting that at present he had no animal in his stables suitable for Graine to ride. “There is Beatrice’s Yorkshire Rose, but I know you well enough to realise that you would not dream of depriving Bea of her precious mare. Besides, you will wish to ride together. I take it, by the way, that you do ride, now that you are done with masquerading?”
There was a snort of laughter from Dominic. “Ride? Rainey? Just wait till you see her, sir. She could handle Crusader better than I can. Yes, I know he’s too strong for her. It makes no difference. And I’m not just partial because she’s my sister. It’s a knack she has – like some people can sing and others paint. Rainey can whisper horses.”
“She can what?” demanded the Earl, much intrigued by this new facet in the personality of the mouse-like governess.
“That’s what my father’s old stud groom used to call it,” explained the boy. “Whispering. She doesn’t actually talk to them or pet them more than other people do. It’s a kind of a crooning. The horses seem to understand it, and they go for her when they would fight another rider. I’ve never seen the horse yet that she couldn’t handle, though I’ll admit that she rode some of them astride, which wouldn’t do here, of course. But you’ve no need to fret over suitable mounts for a lady. Plenty of beasts in the stable that will carry a side saddle, so long as the rider’s experienced.”
“Now it is your turn to embarrass your sister,” pointed out his lordship, smiling at the crimson-faced Graine. “And since you seem to have finished your dinner I am going to ask the three of you to leave her with me for a few moments so that she can recover her countenance. Miss Ashley, will you take a glass of wine with me?”
The youngsters took their dismissal in good part. Naturally Uncle Ross wanted to thank Rainey properly for what she had done, and equally naturally it would be embarrassing to be thanked in public. Graine declined the glass of wine, suggesting that, on top of a bump on the head, it might be a little too much for the sedate demeanour demanded of a governess.
“Which is precisely the point that I wish to discuss with you, Miss Ashley,” rejoined his lordship. “Standing so deep in your debt as I do, I feel that I may speak more freely on this head than would otherwise be permissible. This disguise that you adopted. I do not wish to pry into your affairs, and I can understand that your present appearance, delightful as it is, might be a positive disadvantage to a young female pursuing the career of a governess. The sober gowns and the caps I could accept. But your disfiguring disguise went further than that. You seem to me to be a woman of good sense, not given to distempered freaks. Something of considerable import must have driven you to go to such lengths. If you are in any difficulty – even danger – that persuaded you so to disguise yourself, I am entirely at your command. You cannot doubt my willingness to serve you. Is there any way in which I can do so?”
For the third time that evening Graine was sunk in embarrassment. He was so simple, so sincere, that her masquerading seemed theatrical and paltry.
She said painfully, “You do me too much honour, milord. At the same time, you have gone to the nub of the matter. I do not wish to sound unduly conceited, but my normal appearance is more than disadvantageous to a governess. It is a disaster. I have been obliged to resign the last two posts that I have held – both of them otherwise extremely suitable – because of – of –”
“Undesirable masculine attentions,” supplied his lordship smoothly.
She nodded, half thankful, half resentful to find him so swift of perception.
“So when you found yourself appointed to a household where there was no mistress to protect you, you took your own measures to guard your virtue. Very understandable, if a trifle excessive. In that case there is no more to be said, except to assure you that in this household you stand in no such danger and may safely revert to your normal habits.”
After his professions of service that was a little too much for Graine’s Irish temper. The events of the day had already strained her self control to the limit. It snapped.
“So far as you are concerned, milord, I am well aware,” sh
e curtsied. “And one cannot imagine Mr Read indulging a passion for anything more animated than a lexicon. But in my last situation it was not the gentlemen of the household who posed the problem but the male guests, so your kind assurances are of little worth. However, I thank you for them, and since you do not entertain extensively I shall hope to pursue my untroubled existence at least until your sister’s plans are more settled.”
At this point she recollected their respective positions and subsided into a welter of guilt and apology, pressing her hands to flushed cheeks and biting her soft lips together as though she was striving too late to repress her rash speech.
His lordship made no direct reply. “I really think you should take a small glass of wine, Miss Ashley,” he told her kindly. “I feel that the strain of the day has taken its toll. I did not think to hear you speak so intemperately. Though I must confess that the thought of Mr Read and a lexicon is apt – very apt. As for house guests – you may count yourself safe until the shooting season begins.”
He broke off abruptly, realising what he had said, his sober face relaxing into laughter. “An unfortunate choice of phrase. But you will take my meaning and understand that I intended no disparagement of the skill of my guests. And shall I sink myself beyond reproach if I acknowledge a certain degree of respect for the good taste, if not the behaviour, of your previous admirers?”
Chapter Seven
The change in Miss Ashley’s appearance and demeanour was not even a nine days’ wonder. Before the week was out it no longer provided cause for comment. Possibly the senior members of the staff had their own ideas as to the unprepossessing appearance that she had presented on her arrival. Possibly they approved. In any case, no one was prepared to voice either speculation, or criticism of the girl who had acted so promptly and bravely when the children of the house were in danger. The grooms who had been on the scene at the Cavern Fall had been enthusiastic in their praise of Miss Ashley’s conduct. When her uncanny ability with horses was discovered, her position in their esteem rose even higher. Bosworth had liked her from the start. Mrs Palmer was prepared to respect one who could control her favourite, Benedict, without unduly repressing his high spirits, and unbent still further when the young lady showed a proper appreciation of the effects of her herb tea. Bridget and Adam had gaped a little at their first sight of the transformed Miss Ashley, but her standing in their affection had been secured once and for all on that beastly ledge. When they further discovered that she was now willing to ride with them and to join in all their outdoor ploys, no longer fearing that an accidental drenching might unmask her, they were well-pleased but not greatly surprised. The vagaries of grown-ups were incalculable any way. If Miss Ashley had chosen to behave so, no doubt she had had a good reason.
