‘It’s all right, you are safe, cara.’
She snuggled her cheek against his shoulder. ‘I am now,’ she sighed.
Carlotta was aware of an intense disappointment when she came to her senses and found herself lying on her own bed rather than in Luke’s arms. Lady Broxted hovered about her and tried to insist that she should rest until the morning, but Carlotta would have none of it. Her right arm ached quite dreadfully from being wrenched when she had clung on to the overturning gig, but she had sustained no other injury and was determined to go down to dinner. This could be the last opportunity for her to speak to Luke before Mr Woollatt’s return. Surely it could not be thought improper for her to thank him for his kindness?
As she entered the drawing room, Mrs Price immediately sprang to her feet.
‘Ah, dear Miss Rivington! Is this wise—should you be out of your bed?’
‘Why yes, I am very well now, I assure you. I was a little shaken, but nothing serious—nothing to compare with Mrs Ainslowe. I believe she is still laid up in her room.’
Mr Price sighed and shook his head. ‘Indeed she is. When Ainslowe carried her into the house she was as white as her lace, and the poor man looked exceedingly grim. As he is not here, I can only suppose that he is still with his wife—what do you say, Darvell, am I right?’
‘I believe my brother intends to join us for dinner and is even now in his room, dressing.’
Carlotta observed the anxiety in Luke’s face. She wanted to go to him, but Julia was urging her to sit down beside her.
‘You must have been very frightened, Miss Rivington.’
‘There was no time for fear, the gig collapsed so suddenly.’
‘We were on the far side of the lake when we heard the news,’ said Mrs Price. ‘You can imagine our surprise when Lord Darvell’s groom came running up to tell us what had occurred.’
‘Aye,’ declared Mr Price. ‘By all accounts, Sir Gilbert’s man was ready to dash off immediately to the rescue, but Darvell’s groom insisted on fetching his master and Mr Ainslowe.’
‘And a good idea it was,’ nodded Mr Price. ‘The carriages were ready and waiting by the time we arrived back at the house, so there was little time lost and the four of us could set off to find you.’
Carlotta frowned, trying to hold a fleeting memory. ‘Were there four of you? I remember only Mr Ainslowe, and Lord Darvell…’
‘Bless you, my dear, how could you be expected to know what was going on?’ said Mr Price. ‘Lord Fairbridge and I came along to render what assistance we could. And I dare say Sir Gilbert would have joined us, too, if he had been there.’
‘I had decided to take a ramble in the woods,’ explained Sir Gilbert, coming forward. ‘I was never more shocked than when I returned and Mrs Price told me of the accident—’ He broke off as James came in. ‘Ah, Ainslowe—we were just talking about the dreadful events this morning. How is Mrs Ainslowe?’
‘Sleeping.’ James looked tired and strained, but he came towards Carlotta and took her hand. ‘I am glad to see you are up and about, Miss Rivington. Can I assume you were not hurt in the crash?’
‘I bruised my arm a little, nothing more. I trust Mrs Ainslowe has suffered no lasting injury?’
She raised her eyes to his face as she spoke and he seemed to understand her, for he gave a tight little smile and returned the slight pressure of her fingers.
‘The doctor is hopeful, but it is too soon to tell.’
The meal dragged on. Carlotta had found herself sitting at some distance from Lord Darvell and it was not until the gentlemen came into the drawing room after dinner that she found the opportunity of speaking to him. Mrs Price had persuaded Julia and Lord Fairbridge to sing a duet; while the little group arranged themselves around the pianoforte, Carlotta moved across the room to stand beside Luke. She dared not look up at him and could only hope her voice would tremble less than her hands, which were clasped tightly together.
‘I have not been able to thank you for your assistance this morning, my lord.’
‘It was my pleasure, Miss Rivington.’
The cool note in his voice brought her head up and she saw the reason for it. Mr Price was standing very close to them.
He nodded at Luke, saying cheerfully, ‘I beg your pardon, my lord, if I could just reach past you and take these candles to the pianoforte—my wife needs more light to read the music…’
Luke waited until he had moved away. ‘I have never been more afraid,’ he murmured. ‘The shepherd said one of the ladies was unconscious, but I had no idea which of you was hurt until I came upon you.’
Carlotta put one hand up to her throat. His nearness unsettled her; she found it difficult to breath and her heart was beating such a tattoo that she was sure he must hear it. They were standing in shadow now, but even so Carlotta could see the glow of desire in his eyes, feel the longing emanating from him. It was like a magnet, a force beyond her control, pulling her in. She edged closer and put out her hand. His fingers closed over hers and she trembled. Her whole body tingled, her skin felt very tender, aware of the slightest touch. They were only inches apart; she need only take one little step and she could rest against him, put her cheek on his chest and listen to his heart.
Abruptly he released her hand and stepped away. ‘You must not tempt me, cara,’ he muttered. ‘If you stand too close, I cannot think properly. When I carried you to the carriage this morning, you do not know how much I wanted to keep you with me for ever. I wanted to whip up the horses and drive off with you, to take you far away from here, from everything.’
He gave a ragged sigh and walked away. Carlotta watched him through curtain of hot tears.
‘How I wish you had,’ she whispered sadly.
A cold, grey dawn reminded Carlotta that the summer was coming to an end. She gazed out of her window at the blanket of low cloud shutting out the morning sun. The dull scene reflected her depression. Today she must persuade her aunt to take her away from Malberry, away from everything that could remind her of Luke. With a sigh she made her way downstairs and was about to cross the hall to the breakfast room when she saw Luke coming in through a side door. She dragged up a smile. ‘You are up and about early, my lord.’
‘Yes. I have been in the stables, looking at the gig.’
Something in his tone caught her attention. She stared at him, frowning slightly. He hesitated, then drew her away from the breakfast room. After a quick glance at the footmen standing motionless around the hall, he escorted her to his brother’s study and carefully shut the door upon them.
‘When I looked at the carriage yesterday, on the hill, I was surprised that the wheel had come away so cleanly. James commissioned that gig for Adele only months ago. It is of the very latest design—you will know by now that my brother likes to have everything of the best. The gig was brought back to the stables and I have been to check: the wheel is fixed with a pin and two nuts. If Perkins was in a rush, I can imagine that he might forget to put in the pin, or to secure one of the nuts, but he would never miss all three.’ He paused. ‘James’s coachman—Perkins—insists he went over the gig thoroughly the previous day because Adele had warned him she might want to go out at a moment’s notice. Now we know Perkins left the Jones boy to fetch the gig yesterday and the lad did not remove the axle caps to check the wheel nuts and pins were in place. After all, why should he, knowing his master had already done so?’
‘What—what are you saying, Luke?’
‘The grass where you took your tumble is kept very short by the sheep that graze it. The men who brought the gig back found the wheel nuts, but not the pin. I think someone removed it and loosened the nuts before replacing the axle cap. It was only a matter of time before the wheel would work itself free.’
Carlotta felt the blood draining to her feet. ‘You—you think it was deliberate? Someone was trying to harm Adele?’
‘No, Carlotta,’ said Luke slowly. ‘I think someone was trying to harm you.’
‘Oh, heavens.’ Carlotta sank down on to a chair. ‘You think, then, that this is connected to the attacks upon my father?’
‘I do—it is too great a coincidence.’
‘But why? What have we done?’
He shook his head. ‘That I do not know, but it would appear to be the work of someone within the Court. The doors to the stable yard are locked at night; no one from outside could gain entry. It could be the same person you saw returning to the house the other morning.’
‘What should I do?’ Instinctively she reached out her hands.
Luke took them in a comforting grasp. ‘I am not sure. I must talk to James. I wish we were not obliged to go shooting, but if we call it off it might make your attacker suspicious; he may go to ground, and I do not want that. I want to find him.’ He dropped to his knees in front of her. ‘Promise me you will not leave the house today. I will tell Billy to remain here. If you need anything you may send for him, but you are to stay in the house, and with your aunt, wherever possible. Do you understand?’
Carlotta gazed at him. Her heart flipped over at the anxiety she saw in his eyes. Knowing he cared so much was a tiny crumb of comfort she would squirrel away for the future. For the time when she would not see him.
He spoke again. ‘Promise me, cara. You must stay indoors and in company.’
‘I promise.’
‘Good.’ He rose, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. He made no attempt to kiss her, but held her tightly for a moment. She felt his mouth on her hair.
‘I will not let anything happen to you, sweetheart, but we must find out who is behind this. I cannot bear the thought of sending you away from Malberry with this riddle unsolved, with the threat still hanging over you.’ He drew a deep breath and resolutely put her away from him. ‘You must go now. Tell no one. I will talk to James and we will decide what to do.’
‘Oh, but I need to know—’
He put a finger to her lips, a rueful smile lighting his eyes. ‘Hush, little termagant. We will do nothing without consulting you, never fear.’
The low cloud persisted all day, but it did not rain, and the ladies amused themselves indoors with their books, their painting and their embroidery. Carlotta found it difficult to settle to anything and in desperation she asked if she might be allowed to sit with Mrs Ainslowe for a while. The suggestion was put to Adele’s dresser, who graciously agreed to let Carlotta visit her mistress while she took a short rest in the afternoon. Carlotta duly presented herself at the door of the bedchamber and entered to find Adele awake, and smiling a welcome.
‘Carlotta, my dear. So my gorgon has permitted you to come and sit with me, has she? You are honoured, for she has refused admittance to everyone else.’
A slight smile softened the dresser’s severe countenance. ‘Now, ma’am, you know the doctor said you was to have complete rest. And you, miss—’ she turned her fierce eyes to Carlotta ‘—you are not to be overtaxing the mistress.’
‘No, no, of course she will not,’ said Adele. ‘She will sit here and tell me all that is going on downstairs; I shall not move a finger.’ She watched as her handmaiden left the room, and then beckoned Carlotta to come closer. ‘Pull up that chair beside the bed, Carlotta, where I can see you. I have been so quiet today without James, but I told him he had to leave me, for his guests could not go shooting without their host, now could they?’
‘I think he would have preferred to stay here with you, ma’am.’
‘Perhaps, but there is nothing he can do for me. The doctor says I shall be well again presently, but for now I am to lie very still. Not an easy thing for me, my dear. You know how much I love to be out and about. But he says it is necessary, if I am to save the baby.’ Adele paused, placing her hands on her stomach. With a sigh and a smile she looked up. ‘So now, my love, tell me all that is going on downstairs. Has Viscount Fairbridge proposed to little Julia yet? Has Mr Woollatt returned?’
‘No, and no, ma’am, but both events are imminent.’
They talked for some time and when the conversation began to flag, Adele waved towards the table at the side of the bed.
‘I have Mrs Radcliffe’s story here that I would dearly like to finish, but reading makes my head ache so. Would you read to me, Carlotta? Just for a little while.’
Carlotta readily agreed and they spent a pleasant hour immersed in The Mysteries of Udolpho. They had just started on the second volume when Adele’s formidable maidservant returned and suggested her mistress should now rest. Carlotta rose immediately, giving Adele no opportunity to argue. With a promise to return again tomorrow, if Adele should still be in her bed, Carlotta went off to take the first, finished, volume of Mrs Radcliffe’s tale back to the library.
The house was very quiet and Carlotta saw no one except the statue-like footmen in the hall as she made her way to the library. It was Mr Ainslowe’s orders that all rooms should be kept in readiness for his guests, and candles were already burning, casting a warm glow over the library. It was a stark contrast to the gloomy dusk that was settling outside the long windows. Carlotta paused at the door. She had spent very little time in the library and was unfamiliar with the book-lined shelves. She walked slowly around the room, reading the titles engraved on the spines. Most were learned tomes, but at the far end of the room she found what she was looking for, volumes of popular novels tumbled together on a shelf. She smiled, recognising Adele’s disregard for order. She slotted the book back in amongst its fellows and turned to make her way back to the door.
As she crossed the room, the low sun burst forth from the clouds and for a brief moment it shone in through the long windows and illuminated the large canvas that dominated the far wall. It was the painting James had won from Sir Gilbert. Carlotta remembered Papa talking often of the artist, Tiepolo. He had died before Papa was even born, but she thought her father would like to know that she had seen it. As quickly as it had come, the sun disappeared again, plunging the room into comparative darkness. Carlotta picked up a branched candlestick and moved towards the wall to study the picture. It was a classical scene: Maecenas at the feet of the Roman Emperor. Carlotta held her candles aloft, staring at the painting. She frowned. There was something very familiar about the style, the vivid colours and flowing brushwork. Stepping closer, she peered at the richly patterned cloak that tumbled from Maecenas’ shoulders and filled the centre foreground of the picture. She gasped. There, nestling amongst the patterned folds, was a tiny, delicate little snail.
Carlotta stepped back, her heart and mind racing. Her overriding thought was that she must tell Luke, and quickly. She ran back to the hall and ordered one of the footmen to fetch Lord Darvell’s groom. She was in the morning room finishing off her brief note when Billy knocked on the door. She ran to him, folding the paper as she went.
‘You must take this to your master at once—will you be able to find him? They may still be shooting.’
The groom glanced out of the window at the heavy clouds. ‘The light is fading now, miss. I reckon they might have gone back to the bathhouse by now.’
‘Very well. You must hurry, but do not attract attention to yourself.’
‘Best if I run down, then,’ he replied, putting the note in his pocket. ‘But my lord did say I was to stay here and look out for you, miss.’
‘I know, but this is very important—’ She broke off, glancing out of the open door. ‘What was that? Is there someone out there?’
Billy stepped out into the hall and looked around. ‘There’s no one there, miss, only the lackeys on the far side.’
‘I should have told you to come in and close the door,’ Carlotta scolded herself.
‘Well, no harm done, miss,’ Billy reassured her. ‘All the guests have gone to their rooms to prepare for their dinner, and the servants know better than to dawdle here.’
‘You are right; I am stupidly nervous tonight. Very well, you must be off now.’
‘But the master said—’
She s
hook her head at him. ‘I promise I shall go to my room directly, and remain at my aunt’s side for the rest of the evening. I cannot possibly come to any harm. And it is important Lord Darvell receives my message as soon as possible.’ She hesitated, biting her lip. ‘He might be in danger.’
Billy nodded. ‘Very well, miss, I’ll go now, but you promise me that you will stay with Lady Broxted.’
‘Yes, yes. Now go!’
The dinner hour dragged by. Carlotta had no appetite for the stuffed fish or the lamb’s feet prepared so carefully by Mr Ainslowe’s expensive French chef, although she did take a little veal ragout. Her nerves were at full stretch: she strained her ears for any sound of an arrival and her eyes flew to the door each time it opened, which happened frequently as the servants brought in each fresh dish. Carlotta tried to calculate how long it would take Billy to find his master. Surely once Luke had read her message he would understand and be on his guard. She was struggling to give her attention to her neighbour, who was advising her to try the blackberry sauce with the apple pie, when she felt something brush her arm. Her heart leapt to her throat as she looked down to see a small, folded paper in her lap. Trembling, she dropped her napkin over the note and looked around. Who could have put the note there? Several footmen were behind her, all intent on their duties. It must have been one of them, she reasoned. Perhaps Luke had slipped unnoticed into the house and bribed one of them to pass the note to her.
The Wicked Baron Page 20
