Gemstones

by Janet Lane-Walters

The roll of thunder grew louder and the sky darkened. Drew mounted his gray. "I'll follow until I find her."

  "Even to India?" Elizabeth asked.

  "If I must, but I don't think I'll travel that far." He studied Margaret's face. "Perhaps your sister staged an act. Maybe she wishes to return to India and the man she loves."

  "What man?" Elizabeth asked.

  Margaret ran down the steps. "Nica wouldn't go anywhere with Cousin Fergus. He came yesterday. Nica sent him away but I fear what he said for she looked most unhappy after he left."

  Drew groaned. The man he'd seen hadn't been Nicola's lover, but the man she feared. Why hadn't she told him about the arrival of the man? He turned the gray and rode toward the woods.

  Why? But he knew. He'd allowed his suspicions to rule his tongue and his actions. His fears about the man were false. He might also be wrong about her lack of chastity.

  The gloom of the woods matched his spirits. Was it possible to have so much control there was none? Even before Nicola had attempted to instruct him about lovemaking, he had withdrawn. He'd feared losing control of his body. In doing so, his anger had escaped.

  Rain borne by the wind wet his face. He guided the gray along the narrow, twisting path leading to the clearing where an old woman skilled in herbal lore had once made her home.

  Evidence of Crawford's passage was found in the broken bushes and bent saplings. The man had taken no precautions to hide his route. Had Crawford harmed Nicola? Drew didn't think his wife would meekly do what she didn't wish to do. She would struggle against her captor.

  The bushes and trees thinned. Drew emerged from the trail into the clearing. Rain fell in a steady flow and he feared any tracks would be obliterated if he stopped to check the hut.

  A scrap of white against the brown and green grass caused him to rein in and dismount. He picked up one of Nicola's slippers and imagined the struggle that had caused its loss.

  Crawford had Nicola. Those words circled in his thoughts as he remounted and urged the horse forward.

  Thunder rumbled. Streaks of lightning slashed the dark sky. Wind stirred the trees into angry rustling. Rain gusted against him.

  Crawford had Nicola, but he wouldn't keep her. Bending low in the saddle, Drew scanned the ground for a direction. Once he found his wife, he would hold her in his arms and kiss her. Then he would possess her completely.

  Lightning cracked and struck a tree at the edge of the clearing. The horse whinnied and reared. His position in the saddle pulled Drew off balance. He flew from the saddle and hit the ground.

  * * * *

  The roll of thunder and the crack of lightning made Nicola start. Where was she? How long had she cowered here? Had she swooned in relief or fallen into an exhausted sleep?

  Lightning illuminated the hut. A horse whinnied in terror. The animal's fright took seat in Nicola's thoughts. Cousin Fergus had returned. Trapped. She was trapped. She should have crept from the hut and found a hiding place closer to the house.

  She moved to the hut's sole window and peered outside. Wind whipped the trees. On the ground across the clearing, she saw a crumpled figure. A horse thundered past. Another flash of lightning brought a momentary brightness to the scene. She stared at the fallen rider. The figure seemed too large to be the man she feared, and yet the shadowy light might have added substance to the body.

  No matter, she thought. Even if 'twas Cousin Fergus, she couldn't leave him lying in the rain.

  As she dashed from the hut, water penetrated the stocking of her shoeless foot. Chill rain pelted her face. She reached the fallen rider. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

  "No." She knelt beside her husband. Her hands brushed his hair from his forehead. When she touched his throat, the steady pulse beneath her fingers made her sigh.

  "My lord...Drew..."

  How badly had he been injured? She saw something white clutched in his hand. He'd found her slipper. She tried to pry it from his hand. His grasp tightened.

  "Drew, 'tis Nicola."

  He didn't respond. The fall must have knocked him senseless. She felt a knot on his head. Were there other injuries? She moved her hand toward his legs; she saw a broken branch near his right calf. She tried to brush the tree limb away. When it didn't move, she thought it had stuck in his clothes. She pulled the branch free. A spurt of blood followed.

  For a moment, she stared at the red flow and watched the rain lighten the color from scarlet to pale red. She tore his trousers and saw the gash along his calf and the puncture where the limb had penetrated his skin. A pool of blood collected beneath his leg.

  From her dress pocket, she pulled a handkerchief and folded it into a wad. Then she removed his cravat and used the neckcloth to bind the folded handkerchief over the wound.

  "Drew, Drew," she cried. He didn't move or respond to her calls. Rain washed her tears away. What could she do? She had to go for help, but she couldn't leave him to be drenched by the rain. She bent and kissed his lips. Her fingers caressed his face. With a shuddering sigh, she realized she loved him. How could she leave him for even an instant? Would someone come to find them? She couldn't take the chance. She had to go for help.

  Nicola rose and grasped his arms near the shoulders. Inch by inch, she dragged him beneath the tree. She draped her cloak over some low hanging branches to form a tent to protect him. Then she pulled on her wet and ruined shoe.

  "I must go for help." She turned and raced across the clearing and down the path to the house. Brambles tore at her arms and snagged her dress. Rain plastered the silk cloth to her body. Rocks bruised her feet and tore at the soles of her shoes.

  When she reached the trail's end, her legs ached. Sharp pains stabbed her chest. Her body felt leaded. She dashed across the grass and into the stables. "Jem, Jem. the Earl needs you."

  The groom who had helped Crawford strode toward her. She screamed. The fright infused her with energy. She turned and raced to the house. She slipped on the flagstones and slid toward the fountain. Just before she collided with the circle of marble, she regained her balance. She ran up the steps and across the landing. When she reached the front door, she pushed it open.

  "My lady," Greene said.

  "The Earl...he's been injured."

  The Dowager and the girls entered the Great Hall. "Nica," Margaret cried.

  "My poor child," the Dowager said. "Are you hurt?" She draped her shawl around Nicola's shoulders.

  "'Tis Drew who is hurt. His horse bolted and he fell. Where's Jem? I must take him to help me."

  "He has gone to look for Cousin Fergus," Elizabeth said.

  Tears flowed down Nicola's face. Water from her braid ran down her back. "Two footmen then. Come, I must show them the way to the clearing."

  The Dowager put her arms around Nicola. "If you don't change your wet clothes, you will take a chill."

  Margaret grabbed a cloak. "Grandmother is right. I know how to find the clearing." She pointed to a pair of footmen. "Come with me."

  Sarad followed Margaret and the footmen to the door. "I'll ride to the village for Jem and the doctor," he said.

  Nicola's legs trembled. She sank on an oak bench. What would she do if Drew died? She dared not think that way.

  "My child, you must go to your room. 'Twill not do for you to become ill."

  Elizabeth pulled Nicola to her feet. "I'll help you. Oh, Nica, I was so fearful when Margaret said Cousin Fergus had taken you."

  Nicola limped across the marble tiles. She felt exhausted; she felt helpless. She should be with the footmen. Instead, she had let others make the decisions.

  She grasped the railing and dragged one foot after the other up the stairs. Her teeth chattered. The silk gown felt as though the cloth had been spun from ice. Elizabeth half-dragged her down the hall and opened the door of Nicola's chamber.

  "My lady, you are safe," Peggy said. "You are soaked. Come and get out of those clothes. I'll have water heated for a bath and fetch some tea."

  "I've no time for a b
ath or tea," Nicola said. She looked for her sister, but Elizabeth had vanished. "My husband is injured. I must be ready to care for him."

  "If you become ill, you can't help him." The maid's pale eyes glowed with curiosity. "Is it true that some man tried to steal you?"

  Nicola allowed Peggy to pull the sodden dress and chemise over her head. She slid her arms into the sleeves of a heavy dressing gown. Cousin Fergus was strange but not in the way the maid meant.

  She sank on a chair before the fire and closed her eyes. The heat warmed her flesh, but what would warm her heart? She felt as though shards of rock crystal encrusted the surface. Her eyes flew open. She had no time for dreams or fears. Drew needed her. 'Twas her fault he had been hurt; her fault that Cousin Fergus had come to find her father's gemstones.

  Peggy bustled from the room. Nicola rose and walked to the dressing room. There, she washed her hands and face and feet. The soap stung where the brambles had scratched her arms and where stones had cut her feet. She found a clean chemise and stockings. When Peggy returned with tea, Nicola stood beside the wardrobe deciding which dress to wear.

  "My lady, water for your bath is being heated."

  "'Twill be needed for my husband. I must dress." The maid took a peach silk afternoon dress from the wardrobe. "Not that one. One of the cottons I brought from India."

  "But the old ones are made from dark and gloomy colors," Peggy protested even as she followed Nicola's orders.

  "Once my husband is settled, I'll change." She reached for a brush and attacked her tangled hair.

  Peggy took the brush away. "I know you're worried, my lady, but your haste is making the tangles worse. Let me dry your hair."

  Nicola heard noises in the hall. "Braid it quickly. I must go."

  She heard her grandmother issuing orders. The maid finished and buttoned the back of the brown dress. Nicola slipped on her shoes. "Thank you." She pushed open the door into her husband's chamber.

  She halted in the doorway and watched with fascination. While two footmen held Drew, his valet stripped off Drew's wet clothes. Heat rose in Nicola's cheeks. She stared at her husband's wide shoulders. Tanned skin covered his muscular back. Siva, she thought.

  She backed into the dressing room and filled a pitcher with water from the kettle hanging over the fire. She placed soap and clothes in a porcelain basin and opened the door into her husband's bedroom.

  Drew was in bed. She crossed the room and put the things she carried on the table beside the bed. When she touched his cheek, the iciness of his skin frightened her. "Drew, it's Nicola."

  Again he groaned. His eyelids inched open. "Nicola."

  "Yes, my lord."

  "What happened?"

  "I'm not sure but I believe the lightning frightened your horse and you were thrown. You must have hit your head."

  His eyes closed. She bent and kissed his cheek. He clasped her hand.

  "My lady, I must clean the wound on the Earl's leg." Bevel poured water from the pitcher into the basin.

  "I'll assist you."

  "Are you sure? Not many ladies can stand the sight of blood."

  "I helped care for my mother and my father when they were ill." She thought of her father's wounds. Her husband's couldn't be as horrible.

  Bevel pulled the covers to expose Drew's right leg. Blood stained the makeshift bandage Nicola had applied. The valet untied the knot and unwrapped the cravat. He pulled the pad free. Blood trickled from the wound.

  Nicola swallowed. Where was the doctor? Had Sarad reached the village?

  Bevel wrung out a cloth and began to scrub the lower part of the wound. Drew groaned. "Damn."

  Nicola touched his hand. "We must clean your wound lest it become purulent." She handed Bevel a soaped cloth.

  "Hurts." Drew grabbed her hand. "Why did you run?"

  As the valet worked, Nicola told drew of her encounter with Crawford and the groom's duplicity. "Cousin Fergus came on our wedding day. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

  "I'm at fault." I pushed you away and played the gracious host to the hilt. I should have behaved more like a bridegroom." She pressed her hand. "We've made a poor start to our married life."

  Why was he so concerned? 'Twas not because he loved her. Who did he try to convince? The neighbors and his friends knew why they had wed.

  She stared at him. White lines surrounded his mouth. A film of perspiration covered his forehead. His grasp on her hand relaxed. She turned to Bevel. "The bleeding?"

  "Continues," he said. "I'll apply a tight bandage and pray the doctor arrives soon. That is all one can do, my lady."

  Nicola sat beside the bed. Minutes dragged until they seemed like hours. Finally the door opened and Dr. Rodgers bustled in. He placed his bag on the bed. "Let's see what this problem is. My lady, I will send for you as soon as I'm finished here."

  "I want to stay."

  "This is no place for a lady. I won't begin until you leave this room."

  Reluctantly, Nicola talked to the door and stepped into the hall. Her grandmother sat on a chair someone had brought from the schoolroom. Nicola paced from one end of the long hall to the other. By the time she had walked three circuits, Elizabeth and Margaret appeared.

  "Prabha is making a poultice for the Earl's wound," Margaret said. "Do you think the doctor will use it?"

  "If the doctor won't, I will," Nicola said. "'Twill have to wait until I have a chance to be alone with him. I'm sure Bevel will look on the doctor's orders as commands."

  "What of Cousin Fergus?"

  Nicola took her sisters' hands. "I'm sure he sits somewhere hatching another scheme. When you go riding, you must leave off your solitary rambles and take a groom."

  "'Tis not fair." Margaret sighed.

  They reached the end of the hall and turned. Elizabeth sat beside the Dowager. Their expressions were grim. Nicola swallowed a lump of fear. 'Twas like when her papa had been ill. She and her sisters had hovered outside the room waiting for the doctor's verdict. She tried to deny the possibility of death but found no words to reassure herself.

  At long last, the bedchamber door opened. Dr. Rodgers stepped into the hall and crossed to the Dowager's side. "He should be fine. He lost enough blood that I didn't bleed him. If he doesn't develop purulence in the wound or a fever, in a week, he should be riding again. I have left instructions with the valet."

  His words brought relief. Nicola collapsed against the wall. Drew's injury had laid a burden on her shoulders. She would talk to Bevel about sharing in Drew's care. Until she knew he would recover, she had to remain at Denmere and hope Cousin Fergus wouldn't act.

  Chapter 15

  Drew smiled. Delicious warmth spread through his body. Nicola lay on the ground with her back arched and her head touching her feet. The sight of her full breasts straining against the white cloth of the shirt she wore turned the warmth to molten fire. He lifted his head and groaned.

  A dream. A fantasy. An impossibility.

  His eyelids inched open. The bright rays of the afternoon sun made him blink. His bedchamber. When had he returned to Denmere and how long had he been in bed? His head ached like the aftermath of a drinking bout worthy of Michael.

  Impossible, he thought. He would never risk losing control in that manner. His body felt as though a horse had rolled over him. Had he been ill? Were the warmth and the vision of his wife part of a fever dream? The last thing he remembered was a storm-dark day, the rumble of thunder and the flash of lightning.

  Nicola!

  Crawford had kidnapped his wife. Drew remembered leaving the house to track the pair. He'd found her shoe. Where had the villain taken her?

  A flood of memories drenched him. The wedding, his bride's knowledge of lovemaking, the quarrel with Aldora and the return to Denmere to find Nicola had been abducted. He had to find her.

  He tried to sit up and fell back against the pillows. "Bevel." Instead of a shout, his voice emerged as a harsh whisper.

  "My lord, you are awake. How is your h
ead? Are you in much pain?"

  Drew blinked. The man's image blurred around the edges. "Water."

  "Yes, my lord, of course." The slender man moved to the bedside. "We've been quite concerned about you. The fall. Your injury. You woke briefly and seemed quite lucid. Dr. Rodgers was pleased to hear you answer his questions. Would you like a dose of laudanum?"

  "I must find my wife. She is in danger. Help me out of this bed and see that my horse is saddled."

  "But my lord --"

  "Do not question my orders. I must save my wife and bring her home." Drew closed his eyes and thought of how he would treat Nicola when he had her in his arms. The vigor of his body's response heartened him.

  "How does he fare?"

  The soft voice increased the confusion he felt. Why did he think he heard Nicola? He felt a hand brush his brow. Small and soft, a woman's hand. An exotic scent teased him. The perfume belonged to his wife. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

  "Nicola." He released a held breath.

  "How do you feel?"

  Her smile flooded him with hope. Perhaps his boorish actions on their wedding night hadn't completely ruined their chances for a comfortable marriage. "How did I come to be here?"

  She pulled a Queen Anne chair to the bedside. "Bevel, fetch a tea tray and some of the broth Cook claims will restore the Earl to good health."

  Drew grasped her hand. "Her restorative broth for a blow to the head?"

  "For that and because you have a great tear to your right lower limb. Though I bound the wound, you lost a great amount of blood. Dr. Rodgers expects you to be abed for a week or two."

  Though he wished to shake his head in denial, any movement brought a dull ache. Later, he would speak to the doctor. Drew groaned. Playing an invalid wasn't possible. Too many people depended on his advice, especially since the planting season approached.

  "How did you find me?"

  "I hid from Cousin Fergus in the hut in the clearing. Your horse screamed. I ran to the window and saw you lying on the ground."

  "Why did you stay in the witch's hut? Jem and the groom would have protected you."

  She looked away. "Since one of your grooms aided in my capture, I was afraid."