Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2)

by May Burnett

  Emily had no time to waste on him. Anthony, feebly gasping and spewing out salt water, took all her attention.

  “Carry him to our cabin,” she ordered the sailors. Then he had to be undressed, all naked and dried; she had Tsien help, but banished Margaret and her maid.

  “You lie down in the bed with him and I’ll cover you with all these blankets,” Tsien suggested. Emily complied, uncaring how the dampness and wrinkles ruined her new yellow gown. She kissed Anthony, remembering that on past occasions this activity had reliably raised his body temperature.

  Did it work? Not so much that she could tell, but he slurred, “Emily.”

  “I’m right here,” she assured him, her voice wobbly from the shock and fear. “How could you scare me so?!”

  “Accident,” he muttered.

  “Of course it was an accident. I shall have to take much better care of you in future. I don’t want to live through such an hour as the last one ever again.”

  A weak chuckle answered her. “Nor I.” After a moment he began to cough.

  Emily took his icy hand and began to chafe it between hers, after a minute changing to the other one. Was there any effect? Not as much as she hoped for.

  “Here is something warm to drink,” Tsien said from the entrance.

  “I am worried about his cough.” Emily tried to hide the extent of her alarm. “Is that tea?”

  “Yes, with a shot of rum.”

  They pulled Anthony into a sitting position, with cushions at his back. Being upright alleviated his cough a little. Slowly they got him to sip the hot drink.

  “Will get drunk,” Anthony muttered. At least he was once again talking in sentences, and in full possession of his faculties. Emily burst into tears.

  “Sweetheart, what is it? I am safe here,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t cry.”

  But that only made her cry harder.

  ***

  Anthony woke up by degrees, immobilized beneath several heavy blankets piled one atop of the other, so high that they impeded his sight at the room, wherever he might be. There were at least three hot bricks in the pile, and his foot bumped into one of them as he moved.

  He breathed in and out cautiously. The racking cough he dimly remembered had retreated, he could swallow without pain, and his head was clear.

  “Hello?” he said.

  “Anthony! Are you awake at last?” Emily’s face appeared from above, peering down at him with worry. She wore a lace nightcap and a dressing gown, and looked beyond tired.

  “Thank God,” she whispered, as her cool hand touched his brow. “The fever has gone down.”

  “Of course it has.” Tsien appeared behind her, fully dressed. “I told you to put your faith in Chinese medicine. It can easily cope with a cold through exposure. All that was needed was to direct Anthony’s energy along its proper paths.”

  “Yes, well, I had a few bad moments there when you practically threw out the physician,” Emily muttered. She bent down to kiss Anthony on the lips, all too briefly. “I am more relieved than I can say that you decided to remain among the living. I am far too young to be widowed.”

  “I quite agree,” Anthony said. “Where are we?” His voice still sounded hoarse.

  “An inn in Dover - the Game Cockerel. You could not remain on the ship, the cabin was too small and draughty for a very sick man, and besides it kept swaying. This place is modest, but it was close to where we came ashore. Margaret is sleeping in another room, with Signora Tarcassi.”

  “How is she?” Should he tell Emily of the unfortunate push that had made him topple overboard? He saw no reason to bring it up. Margaret had been angry, but she had had no designs on his life. But for that wave, he would not have lost his balance from a girl’s feeble hit.

  “She is subdued and quiet. I only hope she won’t fall into a melancholy like poor Mother. I scolded her severely over losing precious minutes before telling me about your accident. It is not like her to be irresolute or lose her nerve in shock. But neither is it like her to take my words so much to heart that she can hardly look me in the face.”

  “I see.” Was Margaret afraid he would blame and punish her? He’d better reassure her. Once he felt better … Emily was far more important. “What happened when she finally told you?”

  “I rushed to persuade the captain to stop the boat and search for you. Only it seems almost impossible to simply stop at sea, and turning took forever.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I wanted to bash the Captain over the head. He kept insisting that we would not find you in time, that you were as good as dead, if not of drowning then of the cold.” Her face darkened. “He came closer to the truth than I care to think on that last part. Only Tsien’s methods, a kind of oriental magic, saved you from that fever. You are very lucky your near-drowning did not affect the lungs.”

  “How long has it been since we arrived at this inn?”

  “Three days. They were the worst days of my life. Here, drink this barley water, through the straw. Tsien says you should drink as much as you can.”

  He contemplated this news as he drank obediently. Three days of worry – no wonder Emily looked exhausted.

  “You should rest, before you make yourself sick too. Poor Emily. This is not how you must have envisaged your return to England. I thank you for rousing the Captain, by the way. He was right – another minute and it would have been too late.”

  “As it was, only Tsien’s jumping into the sea and fast swimming saved you. He held your unconscious and freezing body up to the surface until the rowboat arrived, to pull you both out of the sea. The captain expected him to fall sick too, but Tsien is too tough for that.”

  “So I owe my survival to the both of you?”

  “Mostly Tsien. I could not have done what he did, having never learned to swim, apart from the inconvenience of female clothing. Everyone who saw it praised Tsien’s courage.”

  “So they should.” Anthony was silent for a minute, picturing the scene. Finding Tsien that night in Macau had been a great stroke of luck. “I don’t remember that part, coming back aboard. But as I was swimming and knew the cold would soon numb me, the one thought that kept me trying was that I wanted to see you again, Emily, that I wanted to see our children grow up, and tell you that my life would be bleak and empty without you.”

  Emily’s eyes were very wide and dark, fixed on his. “Oh.” She swallowed, fought with tears. “That is the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me. You are just as necessary to my own happiness.” She bent down and kissed him again, more thoroughly this time. “Hurry up and get well, Anthony. I have been missing you dreadfully.”

  Chapter 24

  Do not let guilt or anger fester: talk it out.

  Maxims for Young Gentlewomen, Vol. 2, by a Lady (1824)

  On Tsien’s instructions, endorsed by Emily, Anthony was served a somewhat eccentric diet to help him recover his strength. It seemed to be effective, for by the end of the second day after the fever had broken, he felt well enough to order their departure for the morrow.

  Tsien had left on a tour of the Southern ports that morning, and would join them in London presently. His willingness to leave proved that Anthony was finally out of danger. Tsien had waved aside Anthony’s gratitude, embarrassed at the fuss. Anthony was still considering how best to reward him in more tangible form. Mere money was not enough, for a man who had saved his life several times now.

  He had also made his peace with Margaret. While Emily was asleep her sister had brought him calf-jelly soup on a tray, and nearly spilled the hot liquid on his chest as she expressed her regret in the strongest terms.

  “Hush, I know it was an accident,” Anthony soothed her. “Though it was nearly fatal, for all that. There is no reason Emily or anyone else should ever know it was not merely a mischance.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice wobbled. He had never seen Margaret so penitent, not even when she confessed to espionage.

  “It is not the f
irst secret we share.” Her remorse seemed genuine enough. “What made you so very angry? We never had a chance to discuss it.”

  “It seems foolish now. Emily had just told me about your title. It was not that she had the position I would appreciate so much better than she ever will – though in time she will make a wonderful Marchioness. What infuriated me was that you and she had kept such an important fact from me for weeks, as though I needed to be managed, or could not keep a secret.”

  “Your violent reaction when you did learn it hardly showed you in the most mature light, Margaret.” It seemed ridiculous not to use her first name after all that had happened. “You may call me Anthony, by the way. We must still co-operate for Emily’s and your mother’s sakes, and I promise to help you marry well. It should not be difficult for a girl of your beauty and intelligence. I shall settle ten thousand pounds on you, so you need not come empty-handed to your husband.”

  “After I nearly killed you?” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You cannot be serious. Nobody is that unselfish.”

  “It is in my own best interest to keep such a dangerous relative happy and satisfied, and your success will also please Emily.” She returned his smile after a moment, reluctantly.

  “I do not recommend Sir Conrad as a husband, by the way, though I found him a pleasant travelling companion, and I am sure you can fascinate him again if you try. You would not suit.”

  “We shall see,” Margaret said. “I would like the chance to reject him, I admit.”

  “You may yet get it.”

  He would also use his influence to find the officer who had lured a desperate girl into the dangers of espionage. Anthony planned to get the fellow transferred to the Outer Hebrides, or some equally isolated spot, to contemplate his errors at leisure.

  “You have already paid for my new wardrobe,” Margaret said. “I have not properly thanked you. I do appreciate it, much more than you can imagine, after those two years of crimping and saving in Italy. And the time just before that was even harder, when our father was dying, and duns were importuning us night and day.”

  “Emily still has nightmares of being dunned, and homeless, and in debt. I hope that by spoiling her in every conceivable way I may drive away these shadows of the past.”

  Margaret inclined her head. “I fear they will never completely disappear, but no doubt they will recede over time.” She hesitated. “As we are talking frankly, I have to warn you that there will be gossip when your marriage to Emily is announced, especially if you are to have yet another wedding ceremony in Bankington. I have tried to dissuade Emily, but she has her heart set on it. Personally, I would prefer to never again set my eyes on people who turned their back on us in our most difficult days. Emily did not bear the brunt of that, as she was not yet out, but it was painful and humiliating to Mother and me.”

  “I can understand if you are still bitter.”

  “There was a young man…a neighbour – as you already know my worst secrets, you may as well learn this one too. We had an understanding, and he knew of our difficulties, though not that we were going to lose the estate, everything. In those terrible days, I confidently expected him to come to the rescue. There never was an official announcement, however, and just around the time our affairs grew desperate, he left the country without a word, without explanation. If we go back to Bankington there is a good chance he will attend your wedding.”

  “And you would rather not see such a faithless fellow again,” Anthony said in full comprehension. “I quite see. Yes, that might be awkward, but you can punish him with your indifference. It has been over two years, after all.”

  Margaret made a rueful grimace. “My pride does not heal as fast as all that. It is still smarting. Emily only knows him as an old family friend. But his parents knew – and a few others will have guessed – there will be gossip about that as well, I fear.”

  “When people see how Emily and you prosper, they will soon change their tune. And it is not as though you will be obliged to listen to their comments to your faces. Malicious talk commonly takes place behind one’s back. With enough space and wealth, one can ignore it to a certain extent. Besides, no blame attaches to you personally – Emily und you were merely unfortunate victims of your father’s imprudence and spendthrift ways.”

  “Indeed. Father gambled as long as his health permitted, signing I.O.Us right and left. Some of the creditors did not come forward until they heard he was on his deathbed. We were unaware just how bad the situation was for the longest time. The house in London went first, but it was a grievous shock when the estate in Derbyshire was also lost.”

  “Compulsive gamblers can be declared incompetent by their families,” Anthony said, “but in this case, with only females around to stop him, it would have been very difficult. Such cases are quite common, and the innocent bear the brunt. Since it happens so often, the gossip may not be as bad as you fear.”

  “We survived, as you can see.” Margaret eyed the plate on the tray she had set down at the beginning of their talk. “I fear your soup is cold now.”

  The next moment the door burst open, and Anthony heard a familiar and welcome voice. “Anthony? There you are at last! Are you well?”

  Margaret turned and took in the tall apparition in the doorway, her eyes wide.

  “Hello, Rook,” Anthony said meekly. “How did you find us?”

  His friend did not answer at once, instead closing the door and coming closer, scrutinizing Anthony’s face with painful intensity.

  “I am already on the mend. Margaret, this is Lord Molyneux. Miss Bellairs, Rook.”

  “Oh.” Rook bowed. “I had not seen you, sorry, Miss Bellairs.” He frowned at Anthony, in his dressing gown. “Since when are sick men attended by single young women?”

  “Margaret is my sister-in-law, and thus family,” Anthony explained. “I am married to her sister Emily, who exhausted herself watching over me.”

  “Married!” Rook began to laugh. “When did this happen? In your letter from Florence you did not mention any plans to wed.”

  “It happened later, in Verona, and then again in Geneva,” Anthony said. “It’s a long story, and some of it should remain confidential. But I am very happy in my choice. That reminds me, how is Anna? Is she here with you? What are you doing in Dover?”

  “I came looking for you, of course. There was a notice in the paper that Lord Pell nearly drowned in the Channel, crossing from Calais, and was lying close to death in Dover. I posted down from London instantly, to discover if there was any truth in the report. Anna stayed in London – she is not in a condition to travel fast just now – but in all other respects she is doing very well. I must send word to her right away, that you are safe.”

  “The report was true enough at the time,” Margaret said. “Thank Heavens Anthony is on the mend now.”

  “Yes,” Anthony confirmed. “If it was in a paper, Marianne must have heard of it too by now. She will worry. Didn’t the paper mention my wife?”

  “No, but there was some nonsense about a Chinese pulling you from the waves in heroic fashion. You know how these rags always mingle truth and invention.”

  “It was true enough, though Tsien is half Portuguese, not entirely Chinese.”

  “You survived two years of foreign travel and nearly died within sight of our native shores? That is rather eccentric of you.”

  “You never know where fate will elect to strike you down.” Anthony could not contain his smile. “I have a great deal to tell you.”

  “The soup is completely cold now,” Margaret said. “I shall leave you and order a new batch.”

  The moment she closed the door behind her, Rook said, “An uncommonly pretty girl, that. Is her sister like her?”

  “Emily is the younger sister; they do not look much alike. She had no idea of my title, and married me under the impression than I was plain Mr Wetherby, Rook. What do you think of that?”

  “She must be a girl of good sense and discernment, b
ut don’t be so modest - many women would marry you even without your title. How did it feel, to do without it for two whole years? I cannot imagine it.”

  “It helped me understand which parts of me are the essential man, and which belong to the title and traditions. I know now that I could live happily without my title and estates, and probably manage to earn a decent living if I ever had to.”

  “You are different,” Rook said, looking him over critically. “More confident, despite your recent illness.”

  “That may just be the effect of being two years older. You have also changed, I think – or rather, become more you, if that makes any sense. You look happier.”

  “That will be Anna’s influence, and being a father. I had no notion now much that would change the way I look at the world.”

  “I look forward to that experience myself.”

  “Is your wife – sorry, it is none of my business.”

  “As far as I am aware, we are not yet expecting offspring,” Anthony said, “but it is early days yet. I would prefer for Emily to have time to find her feet and settle into her new milieu before having to cope with childbirth. She is only nineteen.”

  Rook frowned. “Do you anticipate any problems in that respect? Who is she, anyway? I don’t recognize the name Bellairs.”

  “The sisters and their widowed mother come from Derbyshire, a place called Bankington, where the Bellairs family held an estate for several centuries. Unfortunately their father gambled everything away and then died. They stayed with a grandmother in Verona, an Italian Countess, until I came across them – just a few weeks ago, though it seems like a year.”

  “And you married the younger sister out of hand? How romantic, and rather unlike you.”