Andrews Brothers 02 - The Rescue

by Felicia Rogers

  She shook her head until her ears rang. “No, you can’t!”

  “But—”

  “Please, Andrew. You must take me elsewhere.”

  He drew his brows together and gazed downward. His dark eyes seemed to smolder and she knew she should look away, but couldn’t.

  “Then where shall I take you?” he whispered.

  She chewed on her lip and studied the darkening countryside. The sun had dipped behind the mountains, and only a tiny sliver of moonlight lit their way. Would they be safe in town? Probably not.

  “I see you have no idea where we should go. But since you are trying to hide from Devlin, and presumably your father, I suggest you allow me to decide.”

  Anger welled within her. Why did everyone get to decide what happened to her but her? Why must she follow the dictates of others desires ahead of her own?

  “I see I’ve angered you.”

  “Yes, you have.” She crossed her arms over her chest and his muscles strained against her back. Quickly, she shifted her balance so she wouldn’t fall.

  “No one in Rochdale is going to harbor you. If you go there Garrett will have you found out by morning.”

  “And what of Ravenwood? Do you not believe I will be found there as well? It is known I visited your mother recently. Ravenwood will be checked before any other.”

  “Is there no one else from whom you can ask assistance?”

  She tapped one finger to her chin and clasped his forearm with the other. The heat from his body distracted her. If she was on the ground, surely she could think of an answer. Perhaps she should ask him to stop.

  “I see you have nowhere in mind. Therefore you will have to agree to my suggestion. We shall travel to Ravenwood until we are able to discover a more suitable solution.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he interrupted, “And traveling to the coast, alone, is not a suitable option.”

  She bristled but acquiesced.

  ****

  Chadwick relaxed when Farrah agreed with his decision to escort her to Ravenwood. He’d only been in the Rochdale area for a month. No one there would offer him a hiding spot. Not to mention everyone in town had to know he wasn’t really Rowena’s son. How she had convinced all the inhabitants to go along with her farce was beyond him. It had to be either one of two things, fear or respect. He hoped for the later.

  Farrah slumped against his chest, her eyes closed. She snored softly, and he fought the urge to stroke her hair lest he lose his grip and they plunge to the ground.

  They rounded a bend in the road, and the lights from Ravenwood lit the entire area, a sigh of relief escaped him. No matter whether he was the fake son of Rowena or not, returning to Ravenwood felt like returning home. Now if he could just find a way for his past to disappear, then this farcical twist of events could continue.

  Servants milled about the grounds. Escaping notice while he escorted Farrah inside would be impossible without eliciting help. The only people whom he trusted as of yet were Kingsley and Juliet.

  At the edge of the yard, he stopped, dismounted, and helped Farrah. A flush of heat rushed up his neck and settled across his cheeks as she settled against his chest and sighed. Don’t think about it; don’t think about her, just move away from the horse and get inside.

  Away from the beast, he whistled. The horse twirled in a circle and trotted slowly toward his last location. Soon the animal was noticed by stable hands. While they worked and wondered loudly about how the horse had come home alone, Chadwick snuck to the front door and entered.

  Kingsley skittered into the front hall and stood erect. When he noted Chadwick, he relaxed. “My lord.” His eyes attached to Chadwick’s parcel and his tone grew alarmed. “My lord!”

  “Yes, Kingsley, I know. Now please hurry upstairs and prepare a room. Make it far from all the others.”

  Kingsley ascended the wide staircase. Chadwick followed and called out quietly, “This must be kept a secret.”

  Chadwick carried Farrah up the steps. Although slight in stature, Farrah was heavy and by the time they reached the upstairs hallway, he was huffing and gasping for air.

  Kingsley disappeared through a door and Chadwick hurried to follow, his burden slowing him considerably.

  The door led to another set of stairs. Chadwick almost groaned aloud. How was he to carry Farrah up the narrow flight? He sucked his lip between his teeth at the feel of a silken finger across his lips.

  “You need not carry me. I can walk.”

  Gratefully, Chadwick lowered Farrah to her feet. He held her arms until she stopped wobbling and followed behind her as she ascended. The entire way they didn’t speak. The fear of echoing in the stairwell and announcing their arrival kept him silent.

  They reached the landing, and Chadwick paused. The room was long and narrow and cluttered with junk. Kingsley materialized from around a trunk and motioned them forward.

  “There is a bed here in the corner.”

  They followed and Chadwick was surprised to see a makeshift suite. A cot complete with quilt, a velvet sofa, and a table were all arranged and facing a brick fireplace. A wardrobe revealed a row of last year’s fashions.

  “Feel free to use anything you need. Only be sure to whisper. Sound echoes from this room throughout the house. Your ladyship has often allowed those in hardship to stay here unbeknownst to the other staff, and when they hear the voices they presume Ravenwood is haunted. Sometimes this is a good thing.” A secretive smile flittered briefly over his face before he continued. “Sometimes it is not.”

  Farrah clasped Kingsley’s hand. “Thank you. I shall not forget this.”

  Kingsley nodded. “My lord, I shall await you downstairs. We must lock the door lest someone stumble onto the stairwell.”

  Chadwick nodded and watched the retreating butler until he vanished behind a stack of clutter. He faced Farrah, a look of concern flinted across her features.

  “I don’t think this was such a good idea.”

  “You heard what Kingsley said. If you’re heard the staff will think the ghost has returned. There is nothing to worry about.”

  “And where will I go from here? Surely you do not expect me to spend my days locked away in an attic storey with musty clothes and old furniture?”

  He took her hands in his and massaged them. “No. I expect you to stay here just long enough for us to figure out a solution to your plight.”

  She swallowed. “Why are you helping me?”

  He moved a hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. A smile twitched at his lips. “Because even though you love Angus, I love you.”

  Air whistled as she drew in a sharp breath. Quickly he bent and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. His heart thumped madly against his chest as he moved away and clasped his trembling hands behind his back.

  “I’ll make sure you receive dinner. Now I must find my mother. I believe tomorrow a trip to Flannigan House will be in order.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Noises echoed from outside as Roland directed Manny and the other footmen to cart trunk after trunk to the waiting coach. “Take heed on how you stow the luggage. Lady Andrews must be able to reach her gowns. Oh, don’t put that there!” Roland skittered from the stoop and stumbled before righting himself.

  Brigitta laughed at the spectacle, patted her rounded stomach, and turned from the window.

  The library decorated with dark woods and colors held a masculine air. However, recently, she had added her own feminine touches by removing the sofa’s puce covering and replacing it with one in cerulean blue. New primrose drapes sheltered the window panes. The fireplace had even been updated and sported a fancy cast iron hob gate.

  “This is a bad idea.”

  Brigitta stopped admiring the fireplace and enjoying the radiant heat to face her sullen husband. She arranged her skirts, and settled beside him. He drew her hand to his lips. The familiar sensation still brought a flush to her cheeks.

  “I fear for your safety. A journey of this magnit
ude—”

  “Will be perfectly all right. Don’t you know how excited I am to visit my family?”

  “Hmm.”

  She withdrew her hands, rose, and twirled. When she stopped a mad dizziness clouded her vision. Luke steadied her.

  “Whoa. You must slow down or the only place you’ll go is to bed.”

  “Is that a promise?” She winked and clung to his arms.

  He groaned and cradled her against his chest. “You are a vixen.”

  “I know,” she said, tweaking his nose. She played with the folds of his cravat and tugged the silken material free from his collar. The alone time she’d spent in the antechamber off the library had convinced her to speak with Luke. She knew they could help her cousin if only they made the journey north.

  He hadn’t been happy about her insistence, but after nights of coaxing, he’d finally given in.

  Luke hoisted her in his arms and carried her to the foyer. His foot landed on the first step just as a door slammed behind them. Luke spun, and Brigitta tightened her hold on his neck.

  The visitor reddened and shifted his vision downward. “I bring a message for the Baron of Stockport.”

  Luke released her and she smoothed her skirts, fighting her own embarrassment.

  “I’m the Baron.”

  The messenger handed over a folded paper and waited with his hat in his hand.

  Luke gave him a shilling. The messenger smiled, shoved his hat in place, and fairly skipped to the door. When they were alone, Luke studied the note. “I think he was wrong.”

  “What?”

  “This letter appears to be for you.”

  Brigitta took the note and hurried to the library. The setting of the room was lost on her as she broke the seal.

  Dearest Brigitta,

  I must apologize for my continued harping, but my need of your assistance escalates. After Father’s erroneous actions, I’ve been placed in an impossible predicament. Mistakenly, I assumed the worst had occurred, yet I find now I was misled. Indeed the worse is yet to come!

  Upon awaking this morning a host of brothers arrived and laid claim to Flannigan lands. This wouldn’t have been nearly as troublesome had my maid not went mad and attacked me! If not for Lord Greywold, yes, you heard correctly, then I would have surely been sliced. I flung a vase, it shattered, and she swung the shards at my face!

  I must pause and take a deep breath. While the incident is over, the memory has failed to fade.

  I received your letter, and have decided I can wait only a little while longer. Without your assistance I fear I will be forced to escape to the shore and reach out to Angus. I know you consider my idea an illogical solution, but I fear it may be my only recourse.

  Know that I wish not to pressure you. I hope all is well. Your loving cousin, Farrah Burrows Brigitta laid the letter on a low table and fell onto the sofa cushions. Head back against the frame, she massaged her temple and pondered how soon they could leave Stockport.

  ****

  Light shone through the thick glass panes and struck the teak wood furniture. The brightly colored drapes and wall hangings failed to distract Chadwick as he paced the library. The portrait of his imaginary father mocked him. He wasn’t even allowed a moment to revel in his good fortune!

  Above him Farrah slept, paced, cursed, combed her hair—who knew what young ladies did?—whilst he was relegated to pacing the library and throwing visitors off her scent. Already Garrett had knocked upon the door and insisted on meeting Rowena.

  Immediately Garrett’s less than cordial behavior stuck him on Rowena’s naughty list and she sullied up and refused to speak. Chadwick had kept out of sight and hid his laughter with great restraint. Frustrated with Rowena’s lack of cooperation the footman had taken his leave, promising to send someone else in his stead.

  Chadwick needed a plan. He couldn’t keep Farrah secreted away in the attic forever. Sooner or later the house would be searched and then where would they be? She would be thrown back into the snakes den that was her new home and he would be without a cause. A very dangerous place for him at the moment.

  He ran a hand through his thick black hair. Passing a mirror, he considered his reflection. If he closed his eyes, he could visualize his brother. They were so similar in height and build, the darkness of their eyes the only distinguishing factor. He found it hard to believe the duplicity he’d enacted in Stockport. It seemed like a different world, another lifetime.

  Hands clasped behind his back, he stalked the length of the room, skirting around triangular-shaped tables. The area reminded him of the music room at the lake house. Perhaps he should whisk Farrah there. No one would ever think to look for them in a secluded lake house far from Rochdale. He could take his time and woo her properly. If they ever returned, the situation with the Flannigan land was sure to be resolved. Devlin would have been found out and ousted, and the property would be rightly returned to Farrah as Clovis’ only living wife.

  But what if he took Farrah to the lake house and Luke and Brigitta decided to visit? Was he ready to face his brother? Was he ready to witness Luke’s disappointed face? Or to perhaps feel a noose about his neck? There was no way his brother would forgive him. Best just to stay away.

  There had to be another solution. There was always another solution.

  “Andrew!” The shrill sound of Lady Rowena’s voice echoed throughout the hallway.

  “I’m in the library, Mother.” The word sounded strange, but good, and Chadwick ignored the pang of guilt at the continued lie.

  “Oh, there you are.” She settled upon one of the sofas, the back of her hand to her forehead. “I’ve been distraught over Garrett’s visit. The audacity of the man! Why how dare he visit and accuse me of harboring Farrah. The miscreant.”

  Was Rowena implying that Farrah was the troublemaker? Or Garrett? Chadwick was afraid to ask. He poured her a glass of sherry and settled beside her.

  “Thank you.” She sipped the drink and waved her hand agitatedly through the air. “Why must they insist on bringing their problems to my doorstep? Years ago, when Holly brought Clovis home I told her she shouldn’t marry him, he would be nothing but trouble. But she never listened. That woman had her head so high in the clouds, thinking she was in love. Pshaw! What did she know of love? Clovis was young at the time, and not quite bad to look upon.”

  Chadwick swallowed and tried not to visualize the image she suggested.

  “In fact, I fancied he would be attracted to me. I did tell you that he asked me to marry him?”

  “Yes, Mother, you did.”

  She patted his knee and took another sip. “It was 1752. Holly was considerably older than me, twenty years my senior. But we were the only two ladies around. Bless her heart, no one expected her to die so young.” Rowena sighed and played with the folds of her skirt. “Anyway, what are we going to do about this situation? I can’t have Flannigan’s or Burrows’ footmen showing up at all hours of the day accusing me of harboring Farrah. While I like the child, and I had an affinity for her mother, I won’t have fingers pointed at me for something I had no part in.”

  Chadwick cleared his throat and scuffed the toe of his boot beneath a rug.

  “Andrew? Is there something I need to know?”

  He lifted his chin. “Yes, Mother.”

  “Well, what is it? If I sit here wondering too much longer I might die of old age!”

  Chadwick snickered under his breath but quickly straightened. “Mother, there might be a bit of truth to Garrett’s accusations.”

  Skirts ruffled as she adjusted to face him. She placed her hands on either side of his face. “Now, what have you done?”

  He gulped. Try the truth. “Well, I-I, Kingsley helped me hide Farrah in the attic storey.”

  Rowena removed her hands. She blinked rapidly. Then she burst out in raucous laughter, slapped her thighs, jumped to her feet, and danced a jig. Chadwick feared an episode and angled himself in a position to spring and retrieve Kingsley.
/>
  “Who would have ever thought you had it in you! You said you wanted to protect Farrah and you did.”

  Stunned, he couldn’t move.

  She plopped beside him. “Now we just have to think of a way to throw them off the scent. We can’t have them snooping around here all the time. You need an opportunity to woo the lass.”

  He widened his eyes surprised by her behavior and her words.

  “Oh, don’t think I haven’t seen the eyes you been making at the girl. If you’d had a chance to meet her before Clovis I’d say we’d all be a sight happier. If that fool Winlock hadn’t went on and signed his fortune away then this would be easier. But no matter. I have a plan.”

  ****

  “Andrew, don’t slouch. Remember you must remain confident. There can be no chinks in your armor or Lord Greywold, Garrett, or Lord Mountjoy, will see through it immediately. We must enter with our heads lowered and angst about our person. Garrett informed us that Farrah has gone missing and we are prepared to assist in searching for her, no matter what.”

  “Of course, Mother.” Chadwick couldn’t keep the pride from his voice. Rowena was a better schemer than he ever thought about being. Now the question became could she enact the performance so everyone believed her.

  Mortimer released the carriage door and assisted Rowena to the ground. She waited until Chadwick offered his arm and they strolled toward the front entrance together. No staff hurried out to greet them. The sentries that normally patrolled the yard were decidedly absent.

  He whispered, “Where is everyone?”

  “I’m sure they are about. Just keep your eyes forward. We must act surprised by whatever chaos we find.”

  Chadwick lifted the knocker. The sound echoed, but no one appeared at the door. Minutes passed and Rowena trembled beside him. He took off his greatcoat and laid it across her shoulders.

  “Thank you, dear.”

  He nodded and went to lift the knocker again. His fingers touched the brass as the door was jerked roughly open.

  “Yes?” said a breathless footman.

  “We are here to see…” Chadwick paused and shot a glance at his mother. Who where they going to see? There were so many heads of household within, who did one ask for?