by Anne Ashley
Coughing, spluttering and understandably terrified, Lizzie entwined her little arms vicelike about Robina's neck, almost sending them both plunging into the murky depths once more. Somehow Robina managed to disengage those frantically clutching arms and manoeuvre the petrified girl into a position whereby she could manage to get them both safely back to the bank.
Fighting the current, and Lizzie's continuing frantic struggles, Robina was almost spent by the time she reached her goal. Even at the river's edge the water was too deep for her to stand, and the bank too steep for her to climb, even if she had possessed sufficient strength to make the attempt. The only thing she could do was hold fast with her free hand to one of the gnarled tree roots protruding from the earth, and pray that help was not slow in coming.
Thankfully her prayers were answered. Just when she thought she could hold neither Lizzie nor her lifeline a moment longer, a deeply reassuring voice sounded from just above and a strong masculine hand reached down to relieve her of the heavy burden she had successfully saved from a watery grave.
The next moment her own wrists were encircled by long, masculine fingers and she was blessedly raised from the water herself, and held fast to a stone hard chest. She clung to her rescuer, entwining her arms about the strong column of his neck in much the same way as Lizzie had done to her only minutes before. Her deliverer did not appear to object in the least, for he made not the least attempt to remove them as he murmured words of comfort, none of which she could clearly hear above the pounding in her temples and her valiant efforts to regain her breath.
Only when her breathing became more regular, and she felt she could stand without assistance, did she disengage herself from the gentle hold in time to witness the Dowager arrive on the scene, carrying a blanket, and Sir Percy, breathing harder than she was now doing herself, bringing up the rear.
The Dowager, wasting not a moment in wrapping the frightened and sobbing Lizzie in the woollen rug, glanced across in Robina's direction and let out an exclamation of dismay.
'By Jove!' Sir Percy muttered, following the direction of her gaze, and promptly felt for his quizzing-glass.
'Daniel, your coat...quickly,' her ladyship ordered in rapidly fading accents. 'The poor child must be freezing.'
After one brief glance in Robina's direction, Daniel could appreciate fully his mother's concern, and quite understand too why Sir Percy's gaze betrayed an earthy masculine appreciation. Robina's wet gown clung to her like a second skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Quickly suppressing his own strong desire to look his fill, and sublimely ignoring Robina's half-hearted attempt not to accept the garment, he slipped the jacket about her shoulders, and then wasted no further time in getting the perpetrator of what might well have turned out to be a tragic incident back to the coach.
Scooping Lizzie up in his arms, he led the way out of the wood, leaving Robina to the tender care of his mother. By the time they had arrived at the edge of the wood, Robina had managed to assure the Dowager that, apart from a slightly bruised and grazed right hand, and the fact that she was now feeling a little chilled, she was none the worse for her ordeal.
'Well, at least we can do something about making you a little warmer,' Sir Percy announced, and went striding across the grass towards Lord Phelps.
'Miss Perceval has a greater need of this than you, sir!' he snapped, a distinct note of impatience in his voice, and did no more than literally tug the rug from beneath the startled young Earl, almost sending him toppling over on to the grass.
'Good heavens!' he remarked, turning startled eyes towards Robina.
For someone who appeared to be living in another world most of the time, his gaze on occasions could be most disconcerting, and remarkably acute, noting the smallest detail. 'Has there been an accident?' he asked, thereby betraying the fact that he hadn't taken the faintest interest in anything going on about him since the moment he had positioned himself on the grass. 'Did you fall into the river, Miss Perceval?'
Sir Percy clapped a hand over his eyes. 'Heaven spare us!' he muttered and, without attempting a further explanation, escorted the highly amused ladies back to the coach.
Later, after being stripped of her sodden, mud-stained garments, Robina eased her aching limbs in a bath of warm scented water. Pinner, who had always betrayed a great fondness for her, fussed about like a mother hen, nothing being too much trouble. Robina accepted this exaggerated cosseting with a good grace, but when Pinner, having helped the heroine of the day to restore her normally faultless appearance, announced that the doctor had been asked to call and would undoubtedly be paying a visit to the room very shortly, Robina decided that she had received more than enough attention for one day.
'I have no wish to see any doctor, Pinner. Besides, except for a sore hand, there's nothing whatsoever the matter with me, and I've absolutely no intention of wasting the doctor's valuable time over such a trivial matter.'
'The master insisted, miss.'
For the first time ever Pinner saw the light of battle flash in a pair of blue eyes, but whatever the normally even-tempered vicar's daughter might have been about to retort was held in check, for the door opened and a round little man, carrying a leather bag, entered the room.
Smiling like some indulgent uncle, the doctor listened patiently to all Robina's assurances that she was perfectly well, and then promptly set about his work, declaring when he had finished the brief examination that she was in excellent health, and that he would send his man round with a jar of salve for the injured hand.
'Have you had chance to examine Miss Courtney, Doctor?'
'Yes, ma'am. She's none the worse for her ordeal.' He tutted. 'Always been an excitable child, of course. Just like her dear mama—highly strung. I've left something to help her sleep tonight, and I shall call again in the morning, but I do not envisage any complications arising from the day's unfortunate escapade.'
'His lordship was very cross with her,' Pinner divulged when the doctor had left the room. 'Administered a proper scold, so I've been told. Said she had to stay in bed for the rest of the day, and if she dared to defy him, he'd pack her straight back to Courtney Place.'
'Oh dear,' Robina muttered, feeling a little sorry for the girl, but Pinner was of a different mind.
'If you ask me, she's been allowed to get away with things for far too long, miss. I'm not saying that one oughtn't to have made allowances after her mother died, but Miss Lizzie's always had a tendency to be naughty. I think the master now realises he must start to take a firmer hand with her before she becomes thoroughly spoilt. Why, I overheard his lordship telling the mistress that if you hadn't been there to save Miss Lizzie, it would have been too late by the time he'd reached the river.' There was a suspicion of tears in the maid's eyes. 'A real heroine you be, miss.'
Feeling acutely embarrassed by this unmerited praise, Robina did her best to try to assure the maid that she wasn't in the least brave, and that she had done no more than most other people would have done in similar circumstances, but Pinner would accept none of it. As far as she was concerned the vicar's daughter was one of those rare beings touched by God: someone special, someone to be revered, and nothing Robina could say would detract her from this belief.
So, deciding the best course was to allow the passage of time to restore the maid's sound common sense, Robina took herself off to the girls' room to check on Lizzie's progress for herself. She was not unduly worried about the child. The girl, quite naturally, had been very frightened by the ordeal, and her subdued state throughout the entire carriage journey back to the house had been understandable in the circumstances. Robina didn't suppose for a moment that Lizzie was in the least danger of succumbing to this unusual lethargy for any great length of time, and was not in the least surprised to discover her sitting up in bed, quite happily listening to her elder sister reading a story.
Her arrival certainly gave rise to mixed reactions: Hannah, rising from the chair placed by t
he bed, and smiling brightly, was obviously delighted to see her; Lizzie, after one very guilty glance across the room, lowered her eyes, suddenly finding the bedcovers of immense interest.
Being vastly experienced in the ways of young girls, Robina understood the reason behind this distinct lack of enthusiasm on the part of the younger sister. 'I haven't come here with the intention of scolding.'
The assurance won an instant response: a decidedly mischievous smile, swiftly followed by a wicked chuckle. 'Wasn't it exciting, Robina! A real adventure we've had today!'
'Exciting...?' Hannah glanced at her sister in dismay. 'You might have died, you silly little idiot! You know what Papa said—if Robina hadn't been there to save you, you wouldn't be here now.'
'Well, yes...I know that,' Lizzie reluctantly conceded. 'But she was there, so it was all right, wasn't it?'
Hannah, much to Robina's intense amusement, raised her hands ceilingwards in a despairing gesture. 'I give up! You're hopeless...completely hopeless. You know what Papa told you would happen if you ever disobeyed him again,' she reminded her. 'And he means it. He was very cross.'
'I know,' Lizzie mumbled, absently plucking at the bed covers. 'And I've promised him I won't. I shan't go near a river again until he's taught us how to swim.' She raised excited eyes to Robina, as her rescuer came forward to stand by the bed. 'Papa has said that he's going to teach both Hannah and me how to swim when he returns home in the autumn. Was it your papa who taught you how to swim?'
'Er—not exactly, no,' she admitted, wondering how her father would react if he was ever to discover his eldest daughter's unusual accomplishment. She doubted very much that he would display quite the enthusiasm which Lord Exmouth was betraying for his own daughters to learn how to swim. 'No, it was a friend of mine who taught me.'
'Papa says that girls ought to learn as well as boys, and he cannot think why he never thought of teaching us before,' Hannah divulged, appearing less enthusiastic than her younger sister at the prospect of taking to the water. 'I shouldn't mind learning if...well, if you were to teach me, Robina,' she admitted at last, colouring slightly. 'After all, it isn't very seemly, is it?'
'Don't be silly!' Lizzie scoffed, when Robina, quite understanding the older girl's modesty, was about to suggest that, if she could swim, perhaps Miss Halliwell might be persuaded to offer instruction. 'After all, Papa didn't take any notice at all of Robina when he pulled her from the river,' Lizzie continued, blithely ignoring her sister's swift warning glance. 'And she looked as if she wasn't wearing any clothes at all.'
'Lizzie, how could you!' Hannah reproved, but the damage was already done. Poor Robina's face had turned a bright red, for she knew the girl had spoken no less than the truth.
She had noticed herself the look of blatant admiration on Sir Percy's face, but at the time had thought that perhaps he had been much impressed by her act of bravery in rescuing Daniel's daughter from the murky depths of the river. How foolish she had been! She ought to have realised that her thin muslin gown, though modestly styled and perfectly respectable for a young lady to wear, would become virtually transparent when wet.
She remembered something else too: the way Daniel had clasped her to him; the way she had clung to him in return, experiencing in those few moments a wonderful feeling of being protected, cherished.
Had he merely held her that way in order to conceal her less than modest state? The thought that this might indeed have been the case was, strangely, considerably more daunting than discovering that she had quite innocently been displaying her charms to appreciative masculine eyes.
Suddenly aware that two pairs of young eyes were regarding her now, she tried to make light of the matter, and then quickly changed the subject by suggesting things they could do together whilst the girls remained in Brighton. She might well have succeeded in thrusting the memory of that embarrassing incident from her mind completely had she not a few minutes later, when she had left the room, come face to face with Daniel mounting the stairs.
There was absolutely no way of avoiding the encounter. To have turned and run back up the staircase to the sanctuary of her own room would, she didn't doubt for a moment, have given rise to the most appalling conjecture on Daniel's part. Much better to face him now, she decided, and try to make light of the day's escapade.
'I have just popped in to see how that little mermaid of yours goes on. I do not think she is any the worse for her ordeal.'
'And you?' he asked gently, coming to a halt two steps below, and staring up at a sweet face that betrayed becoming rosy tints of embarrassment.
'Oh, I'm line. We Northamptonshire girls come from good earthy stock, you know,' she said airily. 'We're remarkably robust.'
'Remarkably brave too,' he responded softly. He reached for her right hand, noticing it trembling slightly in his light grasp, as he studied the broken nails and the several grazes across the palm. He did not doubt for a moment that such a modest girl as Robina would rather forget the experiences of this day. She was undoubtedly embarrassed about something, for she seemed quite reluctant to meet his gaze, so he decided not to prolong the encounter, and merely said, 'I could never possibly hope to express my gratitude, so I shan't attempt to try. Suffice it to say, I salute your courage, my little bird.'
And raising her hand, he brushed his lips lightly across her fingers before continuing on his way up the stairs and leaving Robina, for the second time that day, breathless and in the grip of some powerful force which had her instinctively grasping the banister rail for support.
Chapter Seven
Robina would never have supposed for a moment that any action of hers would result in such recognition. The servants, she quickly discovered, simply couldn't do enough for her, treating her with a kind of reverence whenever she emerged from the bedchamber. She noticed that more of her favourite dishes appeared on the menu, and was repeatedly informed by both Stebbings and Pinner that Cook was more than willing to prepare any other little delicacies that Miss Perceval might be wishful to sample.
Unfortunately this unexpected attention was not limited to members of the household. An account of the incident by the river, possibly divulged initially by Sir Percy Lovell, quickly spread throughout Brighton society, and not a day went by without the house being invaded by a stream of inquisitive visitors, determined to discover for themselves if there was any truth in the story circulating about Miss Robina Perceval's courageous act.
Vases of beautiful flowers began to appear in every room in the house, including a huge arrangement of highly scented white lilies, sent by Lord Phelps and his mother. Daniel's brow was seen to darken considerably each time he passed by them in the hall, though whether it was the powerful scent of which he disapproved, or from whence they came, no one was very sure.
Robina comforted herself in the knowledge that shallow society would find a new source of interest given time, and that she would not forever remain an object of attention wherever she went. Thankfully, there had been a noticeable reduction of interest displayed when the day arrived for Hannah and Lizzie to leave Brighton and continue their journey to Dorset.
Robina was sorry to see them go, for she had become genuinely attached to the sisters, but she was happy to think that their departure would herald their father's return to the house. No matter how enjoyable she had found the girls' company, she couldn't deny that she had missed very much those times she and Daniel had spent together, happily reading in companionable silence, or playing cards.
Sadly he betrayed no signs of desiring an immediate return to the house, and appeared more than content to remain for the time being at least with his good friend Montague Merrell. Strangely enough the Dowager did not appear particularly concerned over her son's seeming reluctance to take up residence with them again. In fact, she appeared too excited by their invitation to dine at the Pavilion to concern herself with much else.
The Regent's arrival in Brighton brought a further influx of visitors to the town, and a noticeable
increase in social events. Not an evening passed without Robina spending an hour or so in her bedchamber, preparing to attend some party or other, and on the day they were due to dine at the Pavilion, Pinner took longer than ever to dress Robina's hair and to fasten her into the lovely kingfisher-blue silk gown which she had donned only once before, when she had worn it on the occasion of her good friend Lady Sophia Cleeve's engagement party.
Daniel had kindly consented to escort them, and kept Robina in a high state of amusement throughout the short carriage journey by passing rather disparaging remarks concerning the Regent's garish taste in decor, and the deplorable alterations His Royal Highness continued to make to his 'little retreat' by the sea.
Robina, although excited at the prospect of dining at the Pavilion, could not but agree with Daniel's opinions. Each room she passed through in the famous building was richly decorated and sumptuously furnished, no expense having been spared. The choice of decor, however, certainly wouldn't have been to everyone's taste, and most certainly wasn't to her own. Simplicity and sobriety were not words in the Regent's vocabulary it seemed. There was evidence of his extravagance everywhere, most especially in the dining-room, where an amazing number of richly dressed dishes were placed on the table.
As the evening wore on, and many, many more guests began to arrive, the atmosphere in the Saloon, where dancing was being held, became increasingly oppressive. Robina managed to locate a slightly cooler spot in one corner, and attempted to conceal herself behind the gracefully spreading foliage of a conveniently positioned potted palm, while she studied the dancers, all dressed in their finest, their clothes and bodies glimmering with precious jewels.
Unfortunately, as had happened more frequently of late, her mind began to dwell on what the future might hold in store for her once she had left all the delights of Brighton behind her, and she quite failed to notice a certain tail, athletic figure quietly approaching.
