He would have to wait until someone joined him. He couldn’t mount without help. The stallion stretched round his huge, black head and rubbed his whiskery nose against the unconscious girl as if willing her to wake up. “Good fellow, will she rouse for you? Remain still; I need your support.”
The horse nudged him and then dropped his head to graze peacefully. As he stood, holding his wife, he wondered what had caused this madness. Why should anyone wish to kill him? He was worth nothing dead. Had they found him a difficult target and transferred their attention to Eleanor? Had they intended to hold her for ransom? Whatever their plan, they’d bungled the attempt.
He would see all of them dance on the end of a rope before he was done.
No one could harm those he loved.
Loved? How had that come about?
During the two months they had been together, his feelings had changed. Against all the odds he had come to love his wife. His throat closed. He gazed at the comatose woman held close to his heart. He had believed, after Anna, he could never love again, that his first wife was irreplaceable—but he was wrong.
A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders; for the first time in four years he had something to look forward to. He had been given another chance. Without being aware of it, he’d fallen in love with the most unlikely woman. He gazed down tenderly. She was not truly beautiful. Her honesty, her kindness, wit and humour, the way she loved his children—these things had won him over. If he had not been supported by his horse he would have been in danger of dropping his precious burden. Someone spoke to him and he was jerked back to the present.
“My lord, let me take Lady Eleanor from you. Is she badly injured? Did she fall?”
Alex gathered his wits. “I don’t know, she’s deeply unconscious. However, she did not fall. I have no idea why she’s like this, I think it might be shock. Her pulse is weak but regular, I’m sure she will recover soon.”
He knew he was smiling, that his eyes reflected his joy at discovering himself so unexpectedly in love with his wife. Foster was eyeing him strangely.
“I think it best to forget about those bastards for the moment, my lord. I’ve sent someone to fetch the doctor. Shock can do funny things, especially to the gently born like Lady Eleanor.”
Alex stepped away from his horse; he was strong enough to stop an army single-handed. He must look ridiculously happy for a man holding an unconscious wife. Love did the most amazing things to a fellow. He had to share his news and Foster was as good as anyone to tell.
“I love her. I didn’t believe this would happen again. God could not be so unkind as to take away my wife again. No, I’m certain He will not. Here—take her for me, Foster, whilst I mount.”
Alex stared at the face pressed against his shoulder, reluctant to let her go. His man stepped in, holding out his arms. “Foster, shall you be able to hand her up to me when I am in the saddle?”
“Yes, my lord. Even a man of my age can manage that. Her ladyship weighs nothing at all.”
Alex vaulted onto his horse and leant down to reclaim her. This time he settled her comfortably in the crook of his arm and Foster handed him his reins. He clicked his tongue encouraging his stallion to move off in a gentle walk. There was too much to think about, his mind was whirling with possibilities. Then Foster’s words came back to him. He was right; she weighed no more than a child in spite of her height. His heart sunk like a stone to his boots.
My God!? Is this why she is unconscious? Does she have a debilitating disease that is keeping her so thin, and the shock she experienced today was too much for her delicate constitution?
He ignored the two men who were examining the bodies sprawled at the side of the lane. They deserved to die, if not by his hand than by the rope. The village was no longer deserted; there were folk going about their business and the shops were unshuttered. Life was continuing as normal. He ignored the stares and surreptitious looks; his only concern was to get Eleanor home where she could be taken care of.
Where were the body of men who had been marching to his rescue? Had they returned home or were they still searching the vicinity for the villains? The lane in front of him was quiet, the trees making a cool green tunnel for him to ride through. He couldn’t take his eyes from Eleanor. Her colour was better; she was asleep, trustingly, like a child in his arms.
His feelings for her were a miracle. His children adored her, they had forgotten their real mother. Anna was no longer a barrier to his happiness. He would never forget her, she was his first love, but he could finally move on and put the past behind him.
His arms tightened instinctively, holding her close. His love for her had not been a coup de foudre as it had been with Anna, but these past two months magic had been woven between them. She was not a beauty. No, that was untrue. Lately he’d noticed a change in her; when she smiled at him in a certain way she was irresistible.
Blakely Hall was a home once more. He no longer wished to go to London and rejoin Sarah. He would write to his mistress, tell her he had taken her advice and married someone to take care of his children. He would not mention his was no longer a marriage of convenience, this would be too cruel. He would merely explain the time had come for him to be personally responsible for his estates and not leave matters in the hands of his manager as he had done these past few years.
From the depths of her unnatural slumber, Eleanor could hear voices but she recognized none of them. It would be safer to remain still, keep her eyes closed. If she was a prisoner they couldn’t question her whilst comatose.
No, she was in a bed, a comfortable bed and the smell of lavender linen surrounded her. Her head was supported by soft feather pillows, she could not possibly be in jail.
There was a movement beside her and she tried to raise her eyelids but they remained shut. Her limbs refused to move. She was imprisoned in someone else’s body. An arm slipped around her shoulders and raised her, and the hard edge of a cup was pushed against her lips.
“Please, my lady, you must drink. You’ve taken almost nothing these past few days. You’ll not get better if you don’t eat or drink.”
Eleanor tried to open her mouth but the instructions from her brain failed to register and her teeth remained clenched. The anxious voices faded. The door closed and she was alone in the comforting darkness.
Good, they had gone, she could sleep. Only then was she safe. Then two hands gripped her shoulders. Someone was shaking her, demanding she opened her eyes.
“Eleanor sweetheart, this will not do. I’ll not let you slip away from me. You must fight, we need you here with us, please don’t give up. I love you, I couldn’t survive a second loss. Wake up, darling, please.”
This voice she recognized; her husband. He needed her, was using endearments, professing to love her. Her eyes flickered open to find his face inches from her own. His eyes blazed with triumph.
“Thank God, thank God. Sweetheart, you have been unconscious for three days. And you have taken nothing. Rest against my arm and I shall give you something to drink.”
Obediently she relaxed, not questioning his actions, hardly believing someone loved her enough to take care of her. The cup was presented. The sharp sweetness of lemonade flooded her mouth and she swallowed convulsively. She hadn’t realized how parched she was. She drained the cup but the effort proved too much.
“There, my love, you shall be better soon. I’ll be back to see you later, rest again until I come.”
She was so tired. Her eyes drooped. Then unexpectedly he clasped her face and his lips brushed hers in the gentlest of kisses. He loved her. A warm glow flooded through her. She rested until he returned and repeated the process. This time he offered delicious vegetable broth; chewing was difficult, but she could swallow liquids well enough. Each time he murmured loving words, and kissed her briefly before departing.
She woke the following morning as happy as a lark. She was still weak, but the blood was fizzing round her body. She had never imagined she woul
d be held tenderly in her husband’s arms or that he would say he loved her. How had this happened? It was remarkable. From the moment he’d spoken to her two months ago when she and her niece and nephews were playing cricket, she had been drawn to him. She could not have married him otherwise, however desperate her situation.
Her lips curved and she stretched. Only now could she admit she returned his love. From today their marriage would be a loving union, the ghost of his first wife finally laid to rest. Not only did she have Alex, but she had three wonderful children to complete her happiness. A flood of heat engulfed her.
Good heavens!
Next year there might be an extra member of their family, a baby of her own to hold in her arms. How was it possible someone as handsome, charming, kind and loving as him had fallen in love with her?
She moved restlessly. How much longer would it be before the children came to visit? It had been an age since they’d been with her. Alex told her last night he was taking them to the stables this morning to continue their riding lessons.
Poor Lucy, her party must have been cancelled and all that planning and preparation gone to waste because of her. She must get up today and set another date for the event. She tingled from head to toe. She would be back on her feet in a day or two, and she had more to look forward to than just a children’s party.
As soon as she was well enough Alex would come to her, and she would tell him she loved him and discover the secrets of the marriage bed.
There was a soft knock on the parlour door; Sally moved across to open it. She turned with a puzzled frown. “Mr. Foster wishes to speak to you, my lady.”
A band of pain tightened across her chest. The things she’d been pushing away came flooding back. Foster knew what had taken place, knew her brother had come to kill her husband. She and Alex had not talked about that afternoon; he didn’t know why he’d been targeted.
When he discovered her secret he would never forgive her. Their marriage would be over before it truly began.
Chapter Fifteen
Eleanor straightened in the armchair; she must be strong. Foster was good to have remained silent until this point. She could not ask him to lie to his master any longer. “Ask Mr Foster to come in, please.”
He entered and bowed formally. “I’m glad to see you well, my lady. I apologize for intruding, but I must speak to you in private.”
She gestured and her abigail retreated to the bedchamber. “You are welcome, Mr Foster. Until you were announced I had all but forgotten what happened. No, if I am honest, I deliberately ignored the terrible incident which caused me to become unwell.” He stood, shifting uncomfortably. “Please be seated, sir, you must tell me what has transpired these past few days.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, my lady, no one else knows and his lordship is still of the opinion that these were opportunists; ex-soldiers passing through. He believes it’s possible they heard he was in residence, and decided to try and abduct him and hold him for ransom. When that failed, they took you instead.”
“He has not thought it through properly. His happiness these past few days has prevented him thinking clearly and has made him ignore what is perfectly obvious.” She could not go on, needed a moment to recover her composure. “I must thank you, Mr Foster, for not revealing the truth. But there is something else you do not know.”
Should I tell him my secret?
“Yes, my lady?”
She took a deep breath and told him the true circumstances of her marriage. She waited for his condemnation.
“I’m relieved to hear your story, my lady. I’ve always been bothered by his lordship’s behaviour. Such unpleasant conduct was out of character. It makes no never mind now.”
He didn’t understand.
“I can’t continue to live this lie. I must tell him everything.”
Foster shook his head. “I shouldn’t do that, my lady. Let sleeping dogs lie, if I were you. Your brother’s an evil man if he thinks to gain back your inheritance in this way. His aborted attempt will not be repeated. Lord Bentley has alerted the authorities; they are scouring the surrounding area for the remainder of the gang. Unfortunately the two that were shot died before they could be questioned.”
She thought it was fortuitous they had died, for they could have revealed the truth. She shuddered. How could she be glad that two men had perished? This nightmare was turning her into someone she didn’t like. “Will my husband be charged for killing them?”
“No, he was protecting his property.” Foster blushed painfully. “I beg your pardon, my lady, I meant no offence. I’ve come to tell you that I will not disclose what I know. I have been in Lord Bentley’s employ these past fifteen years; when his first wife died I thought he would go mad with grief. I can’t believe the change in him this past week. I shall do nothing to endanger his happiness; you would be wise to do the same.”
Eleanor closed her eyes. Her husband believed he had assaulted her. Could she continue to deceive him on this point if she admitted her brother was behind the attack? No, it was either reveal everything or remain silent.
She had been enjoying a fool’s paradise. Now harsh reality had come back to claim her. “I have no wish to cause him unnecessary grief. You’re right, Foster, I can never tell him. I could not bear to lose him now, I will make him happy in spite of this.”
Foster grinned, his craggy face looking years younger. “A wise decision, my lady, if you pardon me for saying so. The reason for your marriage is unimportant. Nobody knows what happened, apart from you and I and those that were involved. And on the other matter, I hardly think Lord Thorrington is going to admit to what he did. I think it best it stay that way.”
“I have no choice but to agree. However, when Lord Bentley has time to consider the matter, he must realize that those men were trying to kill him, not take him captive. How shall you explain that to him?”
“I have thought of that, my lady. I shall tell him that they must have decided he was too fearsome a target to abduct, that he was more likely to kill them than come quietly. They aimed to scare him away, not kill him. Your arrival on the scene gave them another chance so they snatched you instead. You must tell him they threatened to kill you if you did not go quietly.”
So be it. She would be obliged to live a life based on perfidy. “You couldn’t possibly know these facts. I must tell him this fustian. I must compound my faults with falsehoods. If Lord Bentley should ever discover the truth, our marriage will be at an end. Surely it’s far better to bring matters into the open now, before things have moved on?” She stopped, embarrassed at talking so freely to a servant.
“My lady, I implore you, don’t consider revealing the true facts. This would ruin his life. You can’t want to bring him down again?”
“No, of course not. I just wish it could be done some other way. The children are happy now they have their father with them; I’ve no desire to be the one to break their hearts a second time. I shall rehearse my part and explain it to him later.”
“Thank you, my lady. In a year or two it will be as if this never happened. You will have built a happy life together and even if, somehow, he discovered the deception, it would no longer be of any importance.”
“I pray you’re correct, Foster. I think you’d better go now, I don’t wish Lord Bentley to know that you have been to see me.”
He rose and bowed again. “You can trust me, my lady. Although I am his lordship’s man, I would lay down my life for you as well.”
He left the room, taking her happiness with him. A weight was pressing her down, preventing her lungs from filling. She must fight this blackness or she would sink into oblivion. The sound of childish voices approaching roused her before she gave in.
The children were finally coming to visit. Whatever her reservations about lying to her husband, where they were concerned there were no barriers. They spent half an hour talking about their riding lessons; the new ponies were a great success. They were obviously del
ighted to see her well, and made no mention of the missed birthday party.
“Mama is tiring, children. Time you returned to the nursery. You may come down again and visit after tea.”
Lucy and Elizabeth obeyed their father immediately, embracing her fondly before moving to the door. Alexander, who was cradled on her lap, ignored the instruction and smiled trustingly into her face.
“Did Papa tell you he fell right into a smelly midden? He was so stinky he had to have a bath in the duck pond.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened in astonishment. Her husband grinned, looking almost boyish. “That’s quite true, my dear, I’m surprised you don’t remember it. I’ve disposed of the garments I was wearing and my favourite top boots will not be the same again.”
The little ones giggled. She returned his smile. “I’m sure the experience was educational, sir, for there’s nothing so humbling as being up to your knees in muck.”
Alex interrupted. “Lucy, Elizabeth, Alexander, run along to the nursery; I wish to speak to your mama.”
Alexander gazed at his father, his lower lip trembling. “I want to stay here with Mama. She has been poorly and she needs me to keep her safe.
“No, darling, you shall see me later. Do as you’re told, my love. I shall look forward to seeing you again this evening.”
The little boy was reassured. “I shall go then, Mama, but you must promise not to be ill again. I don’t like it when you’re not with us every day.”
“I will do my best, darling. Off you go, your sisters are waiting for you at the door.”
The room seemed empty without them. She wasn’t sure she wished to be alone with Alex. She wanted to postpone the deceit for as long as possible. However, he remained with her, strolling across to join her on the daybed. Her pulse raced, she felt something she didn’t understand flickering between them.
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