by Dawn Harris
Carrying me up onto the beach, he looked at me with such intensity I whispered, a little frightened, ‘What is it?’
He gave a harsh laugh and muttered, ‘I thought you were dead.’
Setting me down carefully on a large rock, he removed his jacket and placed it, with great gentleness, round my shoulders. It was warm from his own body and I snuggled into it gratefully. I expected him to ask what had happened, but all he said was, ‘Can you ride?’
‘I th-think s-so,’ I said through chattering teeth. ‘Where’s Mudd?’
‘He’ll be here any minute.’
While he hurried off to fetch Orlando, I looked at the waves still crashing relentlessly onto the shore, and knew I would never watch them again without shuddering. Not if I lived to be ninety. Mr Reevers came back with Orlando, helped me to my feet, and when he cupped his hands, I put a foot into them, not caring that it was bare. He levered me onto my horse, but landing in the saddle jarred my shoulder, and I winced out loud. ‘Hold on, my dear,’ he said softly, handing me the reins.
He mounted his own horse, and as we made our way out of the chine I saw Mudd riding towards us like a demon. When he was close enough to see how wet and bedraggled I was, his face turned ashen.
‘I’m all right, John,’ I managed to say as he came to a halt. ‘Except for my shoulder. There was a cliff fall.’
Mudd opened his mouth to speak, but Mr Reevers intervened. ‘Fetch the doctor, Mudd. I’ll see Lady Drusilla safely home.’
Mudd looked from him to me. ‘Yes sir,’ he said. And galloped off.
Every movement sent a searing pain through my shoulder, and I could not ride above a walking pace. In a halting voice I told Mr Reevers what had happened, and he muttered savagely, ‘You’re lucky to be alive.’
He explained how he’d called to see me, only to find everyone from home. ‘Your aunt and cousin had just left on a mission to check the sheets at the inns where some of the wedding guests will be staying. A groom accompanied them, of course, but whether he was guarding them, or the innkeepers, I can only guess.’ I managed a weak chuckle, and he said, ‘Then I learned you had ridden out on your own and—’
When I tried to speak, he interrupted, ‘Don’t say any more. Save your strength. One of your grooms said you’d left orders for Mudd to join you, but he still wasn’t back. I was just leaving to look for you when Mudd returned. His horse went lame, and he’d had to walk three miles home. When the groom gave Mudd your message, and told him how long you’d been gone, he went white. He shouted at the poor man for not going with you, and raced off to saddle a horse with what I can only describe as feverish speed.’ I smiled dutifully, aware he was trying to take my mind off the pain. ‘As you saw, he almost caught me up. He must have ridden like the wind.’
I whispered, half smiling, ‘Mudd never loses his temper.’ Thinking he’d made that part up.
‘I assure you ma’am, that he did. And it was quite a sight, I can tell you.’
He went on to talk of trivial matters. ‘Knowing your interest in Piers, you’ll be pleased to hear his ear is a little better this morning,’ he said, in a light bantering tone. ‘As for myself, I should have gone out shooting with Giles today. I have been practising a good deal lately, and hoped to outdo him. When he told me a problem on the estate required his immediate attention, naturally I accused him of inventing an excuse to avoid pitting his skills against mine. But that sort of thing never works with Giles. He only grinned at me and said tomorrow would do as well. So I decided to go for a ride, and came to see you, believing it would be far more enjoyable if I was accompanied by a beautiful woman.’
I gave a weak chuckle. ‘You should have asked Lucie then.’
He put his head to one side for a moment, as if giving that his grave consideration. ‘I did think of that, but lovely though she is, she’s not at all in my style.’
When we finally reached Westfleet, Mr Reevers lifted me from my horse and carried me inside, where I was greeted by more shocked faces. First the servants, and shortly afterwards from my aunt and cousin, on their return. Everyone made a great fuss, which I bore with unusual patience, for many times that morning I had thought I would never see any of them again.
That afternoon Mr Reevers came over with Giles and Vincent, and when Giles saw me reposing against a pile of cushions on the drawing room sofa, he teased, ‘I never imagined the day would come when I’d find you acting the invalid.’
Vincent protested, ‘Oh come now, Giles. Do show a little more compassion. Lady Drusilla has been through a terrible ordeal.’
Giles stood smiling, his hands resting on the back of a chair. ‘If I know Drusilla’s servants, she will already have had her fill of being fussed over.’
I laughed, and begging them to be seated, admitted that was true. ‘But I don’t mean to complain. I’m only too aware how lucky I am to be here at all.’
Vincent said in agreement, ‘Life is so uncertain, is it not? You only have to look at what has happened to my family to realise that, ma’am. But no bones broken I hear.’
‘No. My shoulder is severely bruised, and I must rest for a week. Dr. Redding informs me I have been most fortunate.’
‘Indeed. And I must beg you to forgive me for being blunt ma’am, but I for one would rest easier in my bed if you refrained from riding out alone in future.’
‘I have already promised my aunt not to do so,’ I admitted.
This brought a faint smile to Mr Reevers’ lips, but Giles was much more forthright. ‘I’m very glad to hear it, Drusilla. Although you must have been very worn down to agree to it.’
In fact I’d decided it would be by far the wisest course, having realised something very odd about the incident. I had, on rare occasions, seen small pieces of cliff falling, but had stood back, warned by them ricocheting against the sloping cliff face. The chunk that had knocked me out had grass on it, which meant it had come from the very top. Yet, I’d heard nothing, suggesting it had not struck any part of the cliff on the way down.
The other fact I reflected on was that I had tethered Orlando to the gate at the back of Smith’s farm. After losing my temper with Smith, I had been on my guard, fully expecting trouble, but a week had passed without any repercussions, and I’d assumed he’d seen sense at last. It seemed I was wrong. Smith must have seen Orlando, walked along the cliff top and tried to kill me.
Giles, who was sailing to London on the afternoon tide, went to make his farewells to Lucie, and half an hour later I watched the gentlemen ride off together.
I recovered from my ordeal quicker than expected, helped by the warmth and comfort of my own home. My shoulder still protested at any sudden movement, and for a night or two I slept somewhat fitfully, keeping upright against a mass of pillows. Dr. Redding had suggested I rest for a week, but three days of languishing on a sofa was as much as I could stand, despite the kindness of my many visitors. Julia, Vincent and Mr Reevers came every day, and even Piers accompanied the gentleman on one occasion.
On the fourth day, my shoulder being much improved, I decided to go for a gentle ride. I strolled down to the stables, and as Mudd saddled the horses, so Mr Reevers rode into the stable yard. On seeing Mudd tightening the girth on Orlando’s saddle, he arched an eyebrow at me.
I looked up at him, smiling ruefully. ‘Yes, I know, but if I stay on that sofa one more hour, I shall go mad. I’m only going to Hokewell. With Mudd, of course.’
He inclined his head. ‘May I ride with you?’
‘If you wish, but you’ll find it very dull, I’m afraid. I shan’t go above a walk.’
‘So I assumed.’
I used the mounting block to ease myself into the saddle, after which Mudd got up onto his horse, reached down for a spade standing against a nearby wall, and laid it across the saddle in front of him. Mr Reevers turned to me and raised his brows. ‘Wouldn’t a pistol offer better protection?’
Laughing, I explained, ‘I want to see if a piece of earth can fall from the c
liff top without hitting anything on the way.’
He studied me thoughtfully for a long moment. ‘Yes, I see.’
Even at a walking pace we soon reached the cliff top, and he helped me to dismount. Mudd tethered the horses safely, while Mr Reevers went down to the beach. When he reached the right spot, I told him to stop. Mudd had already prised a chunk of earth from the crumbling cliff top with the spade, and I directed him to let it drop as if it had fallen naturally.
It bounced down the sloping cliff face, with bits flying off, and Mr Reevers called out, ‘I heard that all right. Try a bigger piece.’ Again it struck the cliff, and Mr Reevers shouted he was coming back. On reaching us, he directed Mudd to cut another large piece. ‘Now,’ he said, once Mudd had done so, ‘let’s see what happens if I throw it.’
It hit the ground without touching the cliff face at all, and my voice trembled slightly as I asked, ‘Mr Reevers, when you were on the beach, standing close to the cliff, could you see me up here?’
He turned to me and shook his head, an inscrutable expression in his eyes. ‘Who knew you were here that day?’
‘No-one. But, as you saw, I rather stupidly tethered Orlando to the gate at the back of Smith’s farm.’ And I explained how I came to lose my temper with the man. ‘I informed him no-one was going to dictate to me what happened on my own estate.’
‘Which told him those two ruffians who dragged you to the cliff edge didn’t scare you off.’
‘Yes,’ I said, full of regret. ‘Smith must have walked along the cliff top and waited for the right moment.’
‘I see. So, what will you do now?’
‘I intend to have Smith arrested, of course.’
He hesitated, then said, ‘Villains tend to develop some nasty habits when provoked.’
‘I’m not afraid of Smith.’
He turned and looked me straight in the eye. ‘If you want to stay alive, I strongly advise you to keep out of this business.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Having suffered no ill effects from my short ride, I tried a gentle canter across the Downs the following morning, and felt only a few minor twinges. When I got back, my aunt and cousin were just leaving for Ledstone Place, where they were to spend the day deciding on the new furnishings for the bridal apartments.
I changed out of my riding habit, and had just gone outside for a stroll round the garden when I saw Julia walking up the drive. She was alone, and I had barely greeted her when another visitor appeared. Mr Upton.
‘Do try to smile, Drusilla,’ Julia murmured, glancing at my face. ‘Or he’ll think you don’t want to see him.’ I stifled a laugh, and I was wondering how quickly I could escape from the parson, when Vincent and Piers rode into view. ‘You’re very popular this morning,’ Julia teased.
She had not met the Saxborough gentlemen before, and after making the introductions, I invited them all into the house, where we repaired to the drawing room. Jeffel brought suitable refreshments, and in response to my visitors’ solicitous inquiries into my health, I assured them I was much improved.
Mr Upton, never one to lose an opportunity to moralise, addressed the Saxboroughs in his pompous way, a false smile on his lips. ‘I’m afraid I had to scold Lady Drusilla for venturing out without her groom in attendance.’ Wagging a finger at me, he declared, ‘These little accidents only happen when you flout the conventions, ma’am.’
Thankfully, Vincent already had the measure of the man. Lifting an elegant quizzing glass to his eye, he studied Mr Upton in obvious concern. ‘My dear sir, is that a boil starting on your neck?’ The parson’s hand flew up to what was no more than a pimple, and I choked. Vincent warned, ‘Better have that seen to, or the next thing you know it will need lancing.’
I smiled gratefully at Vincent and his eyes twinkled in understanding. A faint suggestion of something other than boredom crossed Piers’ face, and Julia, having smothered a giggle, advised Mr Upton, ‘Mr Saxborough is right. Besides, you must look your best for the wedding.’
The parson retorted, ‘Frankly ma’am, I am in two minds about officiating at this marriage. I do not approve of what I can only describe as, undue haste, in the matter. Considering the sad losses the family has suffered, August of next year would be a more appropriate date. When the full period of mourning is over. Many of my parishioners have expressed the same sentiments.’ He looked across at Vincent and Piers. ‘Do you not agree, gentlemen?’
Piers gave an indifferent shrug, while Vincent removed his snuff box from a pocket, flicked it open, and took a pinch, before saying, ‘Young people like to get on with things, and I believe they are right. Life must go on.’ Shutting his snuff box, he put it back in his pocket. ‘But if that is your opinion sir, perhaps you should allow someone else to conduct the marriage service.’
As I said to Julia later, after all three gentleman had departed, ‘I thought Mr Upton was going to have a seizure.’
Julia giggled. ‘So did I. I must say I was quite taken with Vincent Saxborough. Such a charming man.’ After a slight hesitation, she said, ‘I met Mr Reevers the other day, and thought him exactly the sort of man to appeal to you. He’s taller than you too.’
‘Must a husband always be taller than his wife?’ I mused. ‘I might fall in love with someone six inches shorter than myself.’
She shook her head at me, laughing. ‘Don’t be absurd, Drusilla. You’re far too sensible.’ I opened my mouth to speak, but she intervened, ‘Yes, I know, you don’t intend to marry. But you have never yet been in love. That changes everything, believe me. And if Mr Reevers isn’t quite in your style, there’s always Piers.’
‘Or Vincent,’ I countered, tongue-in-cheek.
Her eyes gleamed for a brief moment, until she realised I was leading her on. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous. He must be twice your age.’
‘At least,’ I agreed, chuckling merrily. ‘Still, we shouldn’t discount him altogether. He might be my last chance. I shall depend upon you to tell me which one I should choose. Though I’d rather it wasn’t Piers, he’s too morose.’
‘He was quiet, wasn’t he. But I expect he’s shy, and that wouldn’t suit you at all. Still, there’s nothing retiring about Mr Reevers.’
‘My godmother doesn’t like him,’ I pointed out, as if that settled the matter.
She shook her head at me in despair. ‘You’re a hopeless case, Drusilla.’
‘I rather think I am. I’m afraid I value my independence too much and no man, I fear, could live with that.’
I spent the afternoon in the workroom and having recorded the details of the break-in, I sat thinking about the cliff-fall. Twice now Smith and his friends had tried to stop me interfering in their smuggling activities, but I did not intend to let them get the better of me.
I felt well enough to ride to Ledstone the following morning, where I saw Leatherbarrow was back and learnt Giles had enjoyed an uneventful trip in favourable weather. Up at the house, Marguerite exclaimed joyfully, ‘Drusilla.’ And held out her hands to me. ‘At last. I have missed you so very much.’
As I calmed her fears about the cliff-fall incident, a sudden burst of heavy rain, rapidly lowered the temperature. Marguerite pulled her shawl tightly round her shoulders, grumbling, ‘This rain will ruin my roses, and Mr Reevers has put an end to what little comfort I have left.’
‘Why? He seems a perfectly civil gentleman.’
‘Civil he may be, but I cannot like him.’ Adding fretfully, ‘I wish Giles hadn’t asked him here.’
‘Someone must look after the estate while Giles is away,’ I said cheerfully. ‘And he wants to see if Norton House will suit him.’
‘Perhaps he won’t like it. I don’t see how anyone could, when all the best rooms face north.’
I changed the subject, talking of the wedding, and an hour later, I was about to leave when Mr Reevers walked in. Bowing, he inquired after my health.
‘I am very much better sir, as you can see.’
Nodding, he s
miled at me in a way that made my heart give a sudden lurch. I was so unprepared for this strange event, that I babbled rather incoherently that I would walk down the stables now the sun was out. When I accepted his offer to escort me, Marguerite looked from me, to Mr Reevers, and back again, grappling with the unthinkable suspicion that I actually liked him.
On going outside, Mr Reevers stopped to admire the view. A flight of steps led from the stone terrace to a lawn, where a peacock was preening its feathers. Beyond the lawn a path ran downhill through some oak trees to the lake.
‘It is a breath-taking sight, isn’t it,’ I said. ‘William Saxborough planted those trees.’
‘He wasn’t all bad then.’
‘I don’t believe anyone can be totally evil.’ He raised his brows in quizzical fashion and I went on, ‘What I mean is, evil men cannot spend their whole lives being wicked. They might be perfectly amiable most of the time, be fond of their wives and children, and hold any number of sensible views that you and I might agree with.’
‘Do you really think so?’ he murmured doubtfully, as we walked towards the stables. ‘Tell me, just how many truly evil men are you acquainted with?’
I choked back a laugh, for his eyes were dancing. ‘None, I hope. But—’
‘You disappoint me.’
He brushed a hand over some lavender bushes, filling the air with perfume. ‘Wonderful stuff, lavender.’ And he turned back to gaze at the house. The original red brick building, built in the sixteenth century, had been added to twice, the result being distinctly pleasing to the eye. ‘I can see why Giles loves this place. What man wouldn’t be content to live out his life in such beautiful surroundings. Giles is a lucky fellow.’
Observing more black clouds forming I said I’d better be on my way before it rained again. He looked up at the sky, stating confidently, ‘It won’t rain in the next half hour.’
