‘Your father works for his lordship?’
‘My father is dead, Mr MacLain. But my mother is one of the laundrywomen at the manor, yes.’
Colin nodded. ‘I’ll speak with her. She can’t whip you for saving a man’s life.’
‘You don’t know my Ma,’ Jennie Cromb muttered.
The Russian raised his head, and wiped some mud from his face. He was a young man, not greatly older than Colin himself, and was quite personable in a stocky, barrel-chested, big-featured manner. Now he grinned. ‘I will buy the young lady a new gown,’ he said. ‘As it was my life she saved.’
‘You’re very kind, I’m sure, sir,’ Jennie said, and for the first time seemed to realise that she was sitting between two men, naked. ‘I must hurry.’ She untied the remnants of her gown.
‘Take my jacket,’ Colin suggested, untying the mud-stained garment in turn and handing it to her.
She stroked the material. ‘Oh, sir, I couldn’t.’
He smiled at her. ‘You must, or you’ll have them hunting you instead of the fox.’
She put the jacket on, thrusting her arms into the sleeves and pulling the whole across her chest. ‘I am grateful, sir.’ She hurried up the slope.
‘Wait!’ the Russian shouted. ‘You can’t just run off. You do not even know my name.’
‘But you know mine, sir,’ Jennie reminded him, and went up the hill.
The Russian remained kneeling, gazing after her; her legs were as white as her breasts, and the hunting tunic uncovered her buttocks as she moved. ‘By God, what a beauty!’ He glanced at Colin. ‘You are Lieutenant MacLain. We met last night.’
‘That is correct, sir,’ Colin said, pulling on his breeches. ‘And you are Count Georgei Bolugayevski.’
‘Spoken like a Russian.’ Bolugayevski rose to his feet and held out his hand. ‘I owe you my life.’
Colin squeezed the offered fingers. ‘And his lordship one good horse.’
‘He has others,’ Bolugayevski said carelessly. Will your mount seat two?’
‘Not to follow the hunt, I think, Count. Besides, you should have a hot bath.’ He replaced the bridle, mounted, and gave the Russian his arm to get him up behind, then turned his horse to walk back towards the manor.
‘That bog came upon me suddenly,’ Bolugayevski remarked. ‘But you must have known it was there.’
‘I was sent after you by his lordship,’ Colin said.
‘Ah! Then I owe everyone my life, it appears. That girl seemed to know you?’
‘Well, I suppose she does, in a manner of speaking. I have stayed here before. His lordship is my uncle.’
‘Ah!’ Bolugayevski said again. ‘Does that girl belong to him? I mean, is she his serf?’
‘Well, no, I wouldn’t say that. We don’t have serfs in England.’
Bolugayevski appeared to consider this. ‘I would like her,’ he said.
‘Whatever for? She’s a scullery maid.’
‘I am not the least interested in her employment, Lieutenant. I would like her for my bed. She is a fine looking woman.’
‘She is that, but not really in your class, Count.’
‘I was not considering marrying the girl, Lieutenant. Do you suppose his lordship would sell her to me?’
Colin turned his head. ‘Sell her? She’s not a slave. I told you, we don’t have serfs in this country.’
‘Then how does one get hold of a woman?’
‘Good lord! I don’t know. I mean, if it was someone you intended to marry...but a scullery maid. You’d have to ask her, I suppose.’
‘And would she say yes, do you suppose?’
Colin grinned. ‘I think that one would very likely slap your face, Count.’
*
‘By God, sir, you are lucky to be alive,’ Lord Blaistone said in his habitual shout. He sat at the head of his dinner table and looked down to his wife at the far end. In between, their guests sparkled with starched white shirt-fronts, bare shoulders, and jewels. Wine flowed and the conversation was animated. The Count’s adventure had added an extra event to an eventful day.
‘But Colin was there,’ declared Lady Joanna Brewster. ‘Weren’t you, Colin? You are a hero.’
‘Will you reward the girl, my lord?’ the Count asked. He was seated on Blaistone’s right, and could speak in a lower tone than the others.
‘I’ll give her a tip,’ Blaistone agreed. ‘And a new gown, by God! Ha ha!’
‘Do you not think I should also do this? I must replace her gown, at the least. As you know, sir, I depart England two days from now. I should be distressed to do so without seeing her again, to give her my thanks.
‘Permit me to visit her.’
Blaistone raised his eyebrows. ‘You wish to go to one of my tenant’s cottages? I doubt you’ll find it very edifying.’
‘My lord, my father also has tenants. A vast number of them.’
Blaistone gave him an old-fashioned look. ‘Tenants, or serfs?’
Bolugayevski shrugged. ‘It is all a point of view.’
‘Harrumph,’ Blaistone commented. ‘Yes, by all means visit Mrs Cromb, Count. You may learn something of interest,’ he added under his breath.
*
Colin MacLain threw his cards into the centre of the baize-topped table. ‘I am afraid I am not doing very well.’
‘You’re not concentrating,’ Lady Joanna told him, severely. ‘You’re brooding on that Russian fellow.’
‘Oh, really, I am not,’ Colin protested. If he was not concentrating, it was because he kept remembering Jennie Cromb’s body, the length of her legs, the splendour of her hair, the entrancing stain of the vee at her crotch, the swell of her quite magnificent breasts...he had never seen a more compelling sight.
‘Well,’ Joanna said, ‘whether you were thinking of him or not, he is clearly thinking of you.’ She nodded to the doorway of the card room.
Colin turned his head and saw the Russian standing there. ‘Deal me out of this hand,’ he told Lord Tapham, and got up. ‘You look as if you are going somewhere,’ he said, turning to the Count.
‘I have decided to leave tonight,’ Bolugayevski said, leading him into the drawing room. ‘Do not worry, I have said goodbye to Lord and Lady Blaistone.’
‘Yes, but are you sure you should go any distance tonight, Count?’ Colin asked. ‘You’re probably more shaken up than you realise.’
‘I must be in London tomorrow, and as you say, I am all shaken up. Thus I shall not sleep.’ Bolugayevski held out his hand. ‘It has been a great pleasure meeting you, Lieutenant. And I can never forget that I owe you my life. If I can ever repay you, be sure that I will do so. Again, goodbye. You will always be my friend. Oh, by the way...’ he picked up a mud-stained pink hunting jacket from where it was lying in the chair beside him. ‘This is yours, is it not?’
Colin took the garment. ‘Where the devil did you get it?’
‘You loaned it to the girl Jennie, do you not remember? To protect her modesty. She asked me to return it to you, with many thanks. Again, goodbye.’
Colin watched him walk towards the doorway.
*
The rest of the party broke up after breakfast the following morning. Colin was dressed and ready to mount up, when he was beckoned by his uncle. ‘A word before you go, Colin.’ Lord Blaistone led the way into his study, and sat behind his desk. ‘That confounded Russian fellow,’ he remarked.
‘He left last night,’ Colin said. ‘He was determined on it.’
‘Yes, and do you know why? He took Annie Cromb’s daughter with him.’
Colin sat down. ‘Jennie? You mean he abducted her?’
‘Now, there’s the point. He went to their cottage last night to thank her again for her part in saving his life. Having got there, he invited her to come outside to speak with him privately. Ten minutes later Jennie returns, packs her belongings, and says she’s going up to London with the gentleman. She gives her mother twenty sovereigns not to object. Would you belie
ve it?’
‘By God,’ Colin said. ‘You mean Mrs Cromb let her daughter go?’
‘My dear fellow, look at it from her point of view. Twenty pounds is a year’s income for her. And she has two other daughters. The girl promised there’d be another pound a month as long as she was away.’
‘Jennie Cromb told you this?’
‘No, one of the other daughters. She seemed upset by the way it happened.’
‘I should think so too,’ Colin said.
‘Your innocence is showing, Colin. This sort of thing happens every day. Actually, I was warned about this by Prince Wotichevski. Seems these Bolugayevskis have some scandal in their recent background. In fact, he’s being sent home so soon because of some unpleasantness over cards in London. Yet I liked the fellow. Strange.’
‘And now he’s made off with one of your servants. Do you wish me to do something about it?’
Blaistone grinned. ‘No, no, she’s made her bed and she must lie on it. As for doing anything about it, you’d likely find yourself on the wrong end of a duel if you attempted to interfere. Not to mention an international incident, and we don’t really want to have any incidents with the Russians right now; things are tense enough as it is. I just thought you might like to know the sort of fellow you dragged from the bog.’
‘The bog is where he belongs,’ Colin muttered.
‘I must remember to strike Bolugayevski off my guest list,’ Blaistone said. ‘Hopefully, we’ll never see the lout again.’
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