by Tinnean
“It’s true that I meant to make your uncle suffer as my mother was made to suffer—”
“Thank you for at last being honest with me.” I could scarce catch my breath. Why must he choose now of all times to be honest?
“Ah, lamb….”
“No. Do not think to coax me with soft words and sweet names. You… you’ve hurt me, Geo.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“And yet you did.” So easily. It frightened me to think how easily he could do it again.
“If I promise not to make a repeat of it?”
“Promises are made to be broken.”
“Who’s made you so wary?”
“I? Wary?” I choked out a laugh. I’d given him my heart….
The realization of what had happened—somehow, when I was least expecting it, Geo had effortlessly taken up residence in that foolish organ—left me with no thought except to flee until I had myself under better control.
“Pray excuse me, sir. I have tasks that require my presence.”
“Ashton!”
I looked him over, keeping all expression from my face, from my eyes. Then I bowed slightly and, very deliberately, said, “George.”
Was it a trick of the light, or had he actually turned pale? No matter. Before he could stop me, I was gone from the room.
I AVOIDED Laytham Hall the rest of the day, but when I returned home that evening, I learned it hadn’t been necessary.
“Has Mr. Stephenson already dined?” I asked Colling as I sat down to a light repast.
“He’s been out all day and has yet to return.”
“What, all day?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did he… did he say where he was going?”
“He asked for directions to Colonel Whittemore’s.”
I bit back the question Why? Even if Colling knew, I was not about to let my butler know I was curious.
“Did he take his curricle?”
“I believe he requested Jezebel.”
It should have been the chestnut colt, and for a moment I grieved for our handsome lad.
Then I became worried. The mare had a smooth gait, but she had a tendency to challenge her rider. I’d seen the way Geo had favored his leg that morning, and now that I thought of it, his limp had been more pronounced than the last time he’d been at Laytham Hall. I didn’t like the fact that he’d be putting it to such use.
“Did he say when he might return?”
“As to that, Sir Ashton, Kincaid informed me that as he had the evening free, he would be going to the Crown and Gauntlet in the village; since David was also free, he volunteered to go along to show him the way. Therefore, I imagine Mr. Stephenson won’t be back until quite late.”
“I see. Very good, that will be all for now. I’ll ring if I should want anything else.”
“Yes, sir.” He bowed himself out, and I was left alone with my thoughts.
I should have known better than to snap at Geo, for that resolved nothing, and once again I owed him an apology.
I hadn’t made much progress in completing the puzzle of Waterloo. Once I finished dining, I’d repair to the rose sitting room to work on it until Geo returned home.
I DIDN’T get very far with the puzzle. In fact, I’d been trying to place the same piece since I’d picked it up, with growing frustration.
When the small clock on the mantle announced the hour, chiming twelve times with still no appearance by Geo, I lost all patience and upended the table; the various pieces scattered over the rug.
Very well. If that was the way it was to be, I’d just take myself off to bed and—no. I’d be buggered if that was the way it was to be! I crossed to the bellpull and gave it a savage yank.
Colling appeared so quickly I was taken aback. “Yes, sir?”
“Have word sent round to the stable. I want Blue Boy saddled.”
He knew better than to mention the lateness of the hour. “Yes, sir.”
And while he went to find a boy to do my bidding, I ran to my chamber to dress for the ride to Colonel Whittemore’s estate.
WHITTEMORE MANOR—the Colonel was anything but imaginative—was a hulking shadow in the darkness of that moonless night.
Save for the windows of the rooms on the first floor at the front of the house. Drapes kept in most of the light, but enough shined through to reveal the silhouettes of two figures who passed periodically before them.
Both figures were masculine. So that was…. How could he….
I clapped my heels to Blue Boy’s sides, and he bounded into a gallop. In moments we were before the front door.
I leaped from his saddle, stalked up to the door, and began pounding on it, having little care for the time of night.
“Here now, what’s all this?” Fielding, Colonel Whittemore’s butler, opened the door and held up a branch of candles. “Sir Laytham? Oh, I beg your pardon, sir!”
“I’d like to see Colonel Whittemore.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
The man looked uncomfortable. “He’s… he has a visitor.”
“I have no doubt,” I gritted out from between clenched teeth. “Nevertheless, you will tell him I’m here.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir. I was given explicit orders—”
“To hell with his orders!”
He turned pale as I brushed past him, snatching up a candle. I took the stairs two and three at a time. I’d be damned if I waited like some schoolboy to be seen at the headmaster’s convenience. I was going to drag Geo out of Colonel Whittemore’s embrace, and if that called for punching the Colonel on the nose—I clenched the fingers of my right hand—then by God, that was what I was going to do!
“Oh, sir! Oh, sir!” Fielding came trotting up the stairs after me, but I was younger and swifter, and was able to reach the Colonel’s bedchamber before he could stop me.
I raised my fist to knock, then changed my mind. This wasn’t the time for politeness. I twisted the knob and stormed in.
“See here, Colonel Whittemore! Stephenson is mine, and I’ll thank you to unhand—” My steps stumbled to a halt, and the words dried up in my mouth.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Er….”
The Colonel looked furious, as well he should. It wasn’t Geo in his embrace. The young man had tousled blond hair, a neat moustache of a slightly darker shade, and in fact the only resemblance he bore to Geo was his pale blue eyes. I recognized him as someone Whittemore had introduced in the neighborhood as his nephew.
“I’m so sorry, Colonel.” The butler was all but weeping. “I tried to stop him, but—”
“It’s all right, Fielding. I’ll deal with this. Go back to bed.”
“Yes, sir.” He snatched the candlestick from my hand with a sniff and left.
“Miles, shall I go?”
“No, Ned.”
“Colonel, I beg your pardon.” I held myself stiffly. This was one of the reasons I endeavored to curtail my temper. The outcome was never pleasant. I swallowed heavily. “You have every right to demand satisfaction. I will meet you at dawn on whichever day you choose to name. All I ask is that you give me a few days.”
“To spread about the countryside what you’ve discovered here this night?”
“Good God, no, sir!”
“Then why the delay?”
“I should like the time to set my affairs in order.” The Colonel was not only a crack shot, but a superior swordsman.
His expression had been deadly, but it gradually relaxed to wry amusement. “Ned, there’s a decanter of brandy on the sideboard in the study. Would you mind bringing it here, as well as three glasses? I think we could all do with a little fortification.”
“Yes, Miles.” The young man slipped into a dressing gown and left the room.
“Tell me something, Laytham. What did you hope to achieve by bursting into my home in this manner?”
“I… er….” Heat rushed up to t
he roots of my hair. “I was under the impression that Mr. Stephenson was still with you.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Well, as you can see, he ain’t.”
“No, I can see that. I do beg your pardon,” I repeated miserably. “I… I await your pleasure, sir.”
“Oh, don’t be such a cork-brained young idiot. I gather I needn’t worry about you spreading tales of me and my ‘nevvie’?”
“Of course not; you have my word as a gentleman to keep silent on the subject. But what of Fielding?”
“He won’t say anything.”
“You trust him so implicitly?” If any of my servants discovered such a scandalous secret about me, it would be all over the county quicker than the cat could lick her ear.
Whittemore stared at me as if I were mad. “He was my batman before we retired. He would never betray me!”
“Indeed, sir. But….”
“I understand the colt you bought from me was to be a gift to Stephenson.”
“How—” Of course. The servants. “Yes. Unfortunately, I had to put the colt down when he suffered an accident.”
“You did?”
“I’m the master of Fayerweather. It was my responsibility.”
He observed me intently, then said, “I’m interested in showing you how that mare is coming along. She’s got all the makings of a fine hunter.”
“She’s a good mount. I regret having to sell her.”
“But you wanted the colt.”
“Yes.” I chewed my lip. “Forgive me for asking, but what of Miss Petre?”
“What of Miss Petre?”
“Word has it you intend to woo her with an eye to matrimony.”
He shrugged. “I must needs have an heir.”
“Yes.” Ned had returned. He handed the Colonel a snifter, then gave me one as well. “I see I won’t have to help you conceal a body, Miles.”
I choked on my brandy.
“At your ease, Captain!” The Colonel growled as he pounded my back. Through watering eyes I saw him glower at his nephew, who I had no doubt was not his nephew.
“Is it wise to let him go?” Ned scowled at him.
“Yes. He’s in much the same boat as we are. And Laytham, you have my word as an officer and a gentleman to keep mum on the subject.”
“Thank you, sir. I… I must return home. Again, I apologize for bursting into your home in this manner.”
He waved it aside. “Ned’s leave is over in a fortnight. Come ’round to visit me. It gets lonely here.”
“Miles—”
“No, Ned. I know you can’t stay, and I wouldn’t dream of pressing you to.”
“May I… may I ask one last question, Colonel?”
“You may.” Whittemore crossed to the fireplace. He took a cheroot from a box on the mantle and leaned forward to light it in the fire. His face was florid in the firelight. “Not to say I’ll answer it.”
“How do you bear it?”
Fortunately, he didn’t make me explain. “One finds other things to take one’s mind off the absence.”
“Another man?” I couldn’t….
The Colonel’s eyebrow raised.
“No.” It was Ned who responded with a trace of bitterness. “The very charming Miss Petre. The promise of a family.”
“Not tonight, Ned.”
Ned muttered something that sounded very like, “Not ever, apparently.”
“Come, Laytham. I’ll see you out.”
“No need, Miles. I’ll show him to the door. Just don’t drink yourself into a stupor while I’m gone.”
Colonel Whittemore ignored his lover’s words. “Come see me again, Laytham.” He held out his hand. “But not at one in the morning.”
“No, sir. Thank you again for your forbearance, Colonel. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Ned gestured for me to leave the room ahead of him and followed close on my heels.
“Did you really think the Colonel had designs on George Stephenson?” he asked as we descended the last of the stairs.
“We… we quarreled,” I said by way of an explanation. “I was away all day, and returned to learn he himself had been gone the entire time. Visiting with Colonel Whittemore, I was told. It grew late, and I….” I sighed. “I’m such a fool.”
“We’re all fools, to one degree or another.” He hesitated a moment before opening the door. “If Miles would but ask, I’d resign my commission in an instant.”
“But he won’t?”
“No, he won’t.”
I wanted to rest my hand on his shoulder in commiseration, but I didn’t know him well enough to offer him anything. Instead I extended my hand.
“It was a… a pleasure meeting you, sir.” I realized I didn’t know Ned’s surname.
“Pleasure,” he responded shortly, and we shook hands.
I walked through the door and to the spot some yards away where Blue Boy was nibbling on some shoots of grass, and gathered up his reins.
“Good luck, Laytham,” Ned called softly. “I hope you have better luck than I.”
I paused, then gave a curt nod. “I wish you luck as well, sir.” I stepped into the stirrup, swung my leg over Blue Boy’s back, and turned him toward home.
JEM WAS still awake when I led Blue Boy into the stable.
“There was no need for you to wait up, Jem.”
“I know, sir.” He studied my eyes, then took the reins. “Mr. Stephenson returned a short while ago with his man and David. He’d met them at the Crown and Gauntlet, so he said.”
“How was Jezebel?”
“Behaving herself. Surprised me no end, I must say.”
I was more relieved than I cared to reveal. Geo was a competent horseman, I’d seen that for myself, but I’d been plagued by visions of him lying sprawled on the ground, having taken a toss.
“Er… Mr. Stephenson noticed Blue Boy was gone.”
Of course he did. I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Did he ask about it?”
“No, sir.”
I didn’t know whether to be thankful that he hadn’t asked, or to be disappointed.
“Go on to bed, Sir Ash. I’ll take care of Blue Boy. And if there’s aught I can do….”
“Thank you, Jem. I appreciate the offer, but no.”
“Go on to bed then, sir,” he repeated. “The morning will come soon enough.”
Yes, that it would.
I patted Blue Boy’s neck, touched Jem’s shoulder, then left the stable. The night was still, the air crisp. I crossed to the door that opened into the kitchen and entered my home. It was quiet and dark. And then Colling appeared, holding a brace of candles.
“Sir Ashton.”
“I hope you weren’t waiting up for me, Colling.”
“No, sir. I thought you would need a candle.”
“Thank you.”
“Mr. Stephenson returned home some time ago.”
“So I was informed.”
“Indeed, sir.” He handed me a candle. “Have you need of anything?”
“No.”
“In that case, I’ll take myself off to bed. Goodnight, sir.”
“Goodnight.” For a moment I considered stopping in the study to retrieve the decanter of brandy and a glass, but I’d made enough of a fool of myself for one night, and I went up the stairs to my bedchamber.
Fire burned in the hearth of my room, a basin of water steamed gently, and across my bed was a nightshirt.
Other than that, my room was empty.
Well, had I truly expected otherwise?
Removing my spectacles first—there was really nothing I needed to see in the room—I stripped off my clothes, washed, and reached for my nightshirt.
There was a light tap on the door.
“One moment.” I pulled the nightshirt over my head, reached for my spectacles, and went to the door. “Ye—Geo?” In spite of myself, I backed away.
And then I was angry with myself. He’d never raised a hand to me; did
I expect him to strike me now?
“Might I have a word with you, Ashton?” He stood there hesitantly. His weight was balanced on his walking stick, his hair was disheveled, and he was in his shirtsleeves, a far cry from his usual tidy appearance.
“Yes, of course. Come in. I’m sorry, I have nothing to offer you—”
“Have I… have I truly botched things so badly between us?”
“I beg your pardon? I meant a drink.”
“That’s the last thing I need. I’ve been imbibing rather steadily all evening.” It suddenly occurred to me that he was making an effort to enunciate clearly.
“Oh.” The word sounded hollow to my ears, and I sank down on the edge of my bed before my legs refused to hold me up any longer. “I’m sorry you felt the need to be drunk before you could bring yourself to come to me.”
“I think….” He took a step into my room and swayed unsteadily. “I think we’re speaking at cross purposes.”
“Are we?”
“This morning… you didn’t give me much chance to explain why I’d been away.”
“You explained well enough. You were in Austria.” I was not going to say a word about his need to prove he could do without me. “Which apparently has no postal service.”
“I couldn’t take the chance.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said I—”
“I heard what you said. I’m just having a difficult time understanding why there was an issue with you writing to me.”
“If you’ll let me explain?” He barely waited for me to nod my assent. “Do you recall your missive to me?”
“I’m hardly likely to forget it, considering your response. Or should I say lack of response?”
“Please, lamb, please don’t snipe at me.” To my utter astonishment, he limped across to me, lowered himself to his knees, and dropped his head to my lap. “It came at a very bad time. I was being sent to Austria.”
