Lord Carnall and Miss Innocent (The Friendhip Series Book 7)

by Julia Donner

  French class, embroidery and art classes were in progress. A quiet word to the teachers learned that the only person to have seen Charlotte was Wrexall’s sister. Ana separated Lady Caroline from her water coloring and drew her out into the passageway.

  “Lady Caroline, your brother visited today.”

  Composed, neither aloof nor hostile-eyed, Lady Caroline said nothing. Ana should have known better. The young lady was known to keep to herself. She would offer no conversation unless directly addressed with a question, very like Lady Lucinda. Whereas her sister-in-law was utterly self-centered, Lady Caroline was merely disinterested. Such temperaments did not usually partake in gossip but also did not feel moved to say anything unless compelled.

  “Lady Caroline, is Lord Wrexall still here?”

  “No.”

  “How long has it been since you saw him last?”

  “Not above a quarter hour.”

  It was like dismantling a wall, brick by brick. “Did anything unusual occur during your visit?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “He expressed no interest in your classmates?”

  Lady Caroline raised her eyebrows and blinked. “I do recall that my brother commented that he had made the acquaintance of Charlotte St. Claire, although I cannot imagine how. She comes from Ireland.”

  She could have been describing a weed sprouting from a swine pen and made it sound more socially palatable. Ana ignored the insult, since Lady Caroline considered everyone her inferior. In her world there was she, and the remainder of the unworthy people on the planet.

  “You may return to your class, Lady Caroline.”

  The young lady curtseyed, the slightest of salutes, mainly because she had been impeccably trained in manners. “As you wish, Headmistress Worth.”

  Ana sped up the stairs to the fourth floor. She would start at the top and search her way down. The attic door remained locked. One less place to search. She passed by a window as she began on the fourth floor. A fluttery movement near the forest’s edge snared her notice. She leaned on the wide sill to look out. Pastel pink moved beneath the naked tree limbs. A larger, darker figure followed.

  Grabbing up the front of her dress, she sped down the passage to the servant stairs. She dashed through the kitchen and out the servant entry. Swerving right, she ran along the walkway she’d been on minutes before and entered the copse of leafless trees. The vague memory of Carnall pressing her against a wide tree trunk, the way he so swiftly and completely brought her body alive came and went. Finding Charlotte and her assailant filled her with too much fear to linger on self thoughts, for she had no doubt that Charlotte was terrified beyond rationality, knowing she was being chased by her previous attacker.

  A thin outcry filtered through the trees, providing direction. She ran faster, leaping over fallen limbs and clumps of brush. Endless tramping and hikes, hunting for something to shoot and put on the table had made her legs tireless. A skirt hem ripped. A corner of her mind urged her to pick up something to use as a weapon. She snatched up a fallen branch, snapped it in half over her knee. Thwarted men often turned violent. She’d seen that enough to know to not enter into the upcoming incident without protection.

  What she came upon was worse than she supposed. A man of substantial build and a head full of carefully crafted waves and curls grasped Charlotte’s wrist. He dealt her a slap and tore at her bodice, while she struggled and wailed in a thin, high cry for help. The shrieking girl was making so much noise that Wrexall didn’t hear Ana’s approach. An excellent advantage. She lifted the broken tree limb in both hands.

  Charlotte’s eyes widened when she saw Ana approaching. Ana shook her head in forewarning. Now was not the time to pause. The girl continued to cry, intensifying the noise as Ana strode forward, branch upraised, praying she had enough strength to knock Wrexall off his feet.

  Chapter 15

  Carnall rode directly to the stable and handed off his horse to Jack. It hadn’t escaped his notice that there was only one groom to handle a dozen horses. An off-hand remark had slipped the fact that the lad also helped indoors, since the house had half the servants needed for its size. Something must be done to correct that immediately.

  No one answered his knock. He let himself inside, and was about to call out, when Elsie came hurrying down the stairs.

  “Ever so sorry, your lordship. How may I help you? Shall I fetch your sisters?”

  “If you would, please.”

  He halted in the act of handing her his hat and gloves when the maid said, “Miss Mary Kathleen first, if you don’t mind my suggesting it. She’s in a bit of a taking.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Elsie stepped back, and he regretted his harsh tone. “Now it is my turn to apologize. Please, where is she?”

  “The morning room off the terrace. Where you have breakfast with them. It’s quite empty at this time of day. P’raps that’s why she went there.”

  Carnall nodded and strode down the passageway nearly to its end. When he swung into the room, he saw Mary Kathleen standing by a glass-paned door that looked out on the garden. Ana’s collie sat by her side, also studying the view. When his sister turned to his entrance, she presented him with reddened eyes and nose. She clutched a wilted handkerchief and flung herself into his arms as soon as he came in range.

  He wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders and whispered, “Hush now. What has you so overset?”

  She drew back to look at him with wounded eyes. “Oh, Dom, it’s Wrexall. He’s here and gone after Charlotte! Headmistress told me to stay here and went after them. Into the copse.”

  Carnall didn’t wait for a clearer explanation. He pulled open the door and whistled to the dog. As he stepped out on to the terrace flagstones, he snapped his fingers and ordered the dog. “Find her.”

  Torquil sprang out the door and off the four steps down to the garden walkway. The dog flew as if shot from a cannon, forcing Carnall to whistle for the collie’s attention. Torquil paused at the edge of the forest, then raced back to keep pace with Carnall’s run. His heart thumped from terror for his sister and fury that he hadn’t done more to destroy her attacker.

  They came upon the confrontation just as Ana lifted a stout branch in ungloved hands. She didn’t wield it like a belaying pin, but gripped it in both hands, swinging it like a cricket bat. Wrexall released Charlotte and pivoted at the same time Ana’s makeshift cudgel connected with his head. Wrexall staggered back and was about to retaliate when Torquil latched on to the man’s booted ankle. When he reached down to pull off the dog, Ana whacked him again, this time harder, shattering the branch.

  Wrexall collapsed, and Ana caught Charlotte in her arms. Both women looked to Carnall. Charlotte thrust away from Ana’s support to fling herself at her brother. He tried to pry free of her desperate grip in order to wrap her in his coat, but she refused to let go and clutched him tighter.

  Carnall looked over Charlotte’s head to ask, “Ana, are you unhurt?”

  “We both are, but poor Charlotte has been dealt a terrible scare.” She looked down at Torquil. Her dog crouched close to Wrexall’s head, eyes in a threatening squint and teeth bared. When Wrexall tried to rise, Ana scanned the ground for another cudgel, but Wrexall fell back in a faint. Relief bled through her. The aftermath had her shivering. She didn’t want her dog kicked or injured if Wrexall came around enough to retaliate.

  “Good lad, Torquil. Come to me.”

  The dog swiftly scuttled to her side, but kept close to the ground, snarl in place, his attention never leaving Wrexall.

  Carnall lifted up his sister, who buried her face in his shoulder. “Let’s get her back to the house. She came away without a wrap and is shaking from cold and fright.”

  Ana took the lead, keeping a steady pace and pointing to another path. The dog had taken him the shortest route, which meant crashing through underbrush.

  “Carnall,” Ana called, not turning around to address him. “Can you carry h
er all the way to the school?”

  “I shall have to. She’s in some sort of state. It’s as if panic has taken over. I’d rather have her with me at the Grange.”

  “Stop to rest your arms. There is a large tree cut down for a rest area. I shall run ahead and have the cabriolet made ready. Meet me at the stable.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to argue or comment. Hiking up her hem, she ran, disappearing around the curve in the path. Once around that curve, the school would come into view. He did take a few minutes rest on the fallen tree. The stump had been trimmed clean and the remainder of the downed trunk left for a resting place on the deer path. He hummed a lullaby as he sat with Charlotte, terrified by her silence and withdrawal.

  By the time he reached the stable, Ana and Jack had the carriage ready and his horse tied to the back. Mary Kathleen stood nearby, a cape over her arms.

  Charlotte resisted when he tried to let her stand. He managed the awkward climb into the carriage with her in his arms. When he sat, Mary Kathleen tucked the cape around her silent sister.

  He looked at Ana. “She won’t let me go. Mary Kathleen doesn’t drive. Will you drive us to the Grange?”

  “Certainly.” After he shifted to one side on the narrow seat, she stepped up into the carriage and picked up the reins. “Jack, tell them up at the house that Charlotte has taken ill. Mary Kathleen, will you ride your brother’s or follow us on your own horse?”

  Mary Kathleen gestured to Jack, who left the head of the carriage to cup his hands and give her a leg up. On horseback, his sisters became fearless. She arranged her skirts and straddled the saddle, accustomed to the odd seat. “Dominic, I’ll ride ahead to let them know we are coming.”

  She took off at a gallop before an argument could be posed for riding unescorted. He was too worried about Charlotte’s strange condition to stop her and Ana had started the carriage horses at an extended trot. His sister had stopped the continuous quivering and now sat rigidly still. He hoped it was due to the warmth of the cape and not something more serious. What if Wrexall had violated her again?

  As if reading his thoughts, Ana said, “I don’t imagine he had time to hurt her again. I fear she’s revisiting the original incident. Hold her close. Allow her time to reorient.”

  He couldn’t stop the words. “What if she doesn’t?”

  “She will. Charlotte has a stalwart character. The incident will always haunt her, but she will rise above it. I know she will surmount it.”

  He rested his cheek on her head. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because she will for your sake. Hold on now. We’re going to pick up the pace. T’would be best if we get her to the Grange as soon as possible. She went out before the rain moved off and is soaked through.”

  It hadn’t registered that her clothes were damp. His focus had been on protecting her. Now, he was growing alarmed and unnerved by her lack of emotion, a state that was very like sleep with eyes open.

  Ana whistled through her front teeth, springing the horses as she had seen him do. The carriage rattled along the road. Ana never lost control and kept the horses at a steady, swift pace. Relief bled through him when Loverton Grange’s chimneys came into view over the trees. Servants waited beneath the portico, hurrying forward to assist. Charlotte clutched him tighter at the first indication of getting out of the carriage.

  His arms ached by the time they got to her bedchamber. “Charlotte, my dear you must let me go now. Your sister is here to help you out of your wet clothes.”

  When he got no response, he looked to Ana. She came close and placed her hand on Charlotte’s wind-chafed cheek.

  “Charlotte, it’s over. Remember how we bested him? You distracted the brute so I could bash him over the head with a stick.”

  Charlotte whispered, “Is he dead?”

  Ana brushed the backs of her fingers up and down Charlotte’s cheek. “I’m sorry, but I doubt it.”

  “Fudge,” Charlotte grumbled and stirred in her brother’s arms for freedom.

  Caught between relieved laughter and weeping, he allowed her to ease out of his hold and sit on the bed. Charlotte sat weary and placid as her sister swiftly unfastened buttons.

  Mary Kathleen ordered, “Off with you. I can take care of her. We’ll sleep together tonight, just as we used to do back home. Dominic, tell them downstairs that we must have absolute quiet. I’ll ring for dinner and later chocolate by the fire.”

  A strange weakness spread through his chest when Charlotte smiled. “I think only the chocolate. I feel I might sleep for a month.”

  When they joined the hovering servants in the hallway, he took Ana’s arm, saying to the housekeeper herding the footman and maids away, “Mrs. Armitage?”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Send a maid to assist my sisters and bring warmed water. We’ll be in the…just bring it here to the hallway.”

  “Warm water is on the settle in your room, my lord. Twining has it ready. Shall I prepare a guest room?”

  He looked to Ana, who shook her head. “There is your answer. Don’t lay a dinner for this evening. Supper in our rooms will do. And this is Miss Worth. We are shortly to be married.”

  Mrs. Armitage nodded, dipped a curtsey and left, shooing away the avidly listening servants. “Madam. My lord. Our best wishes.”

  Knowing it was wrong and no longer caring, he escorted Ana in the opposite direction of the stairs. He hoped that she might be more compliant after the physically draining experience of foiling the attack on his sister. She balked in the threshold when he ushered her to his bedchamber and stared at the slender, tall man coming out of the dressing room.

  Before his manservant could comment, Carnall said, “Twinings, pour out some warmed water. I’ll be needing bandages. And a pair of soft gloves. Then you may leave until I ring. Oh, and this is the future Lady Carnall.”

  Twinings bowed and went about the tasks, while Carnall waited with Ana. She amazed him, tolerating his highhandedness. She sat in the chair by the fire and said nothing when he placed a towel and a basin of warm water on her lap.

  When she didn’t move, he gently immersed her scraped hands in the water. “Ana, your palms are badly scraped. They need to be cleansed.”

  She came to life with a deep inhalation. “Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”

  He went to stand by the mantel, where he smoothed his fingertips along the base of a lit candelabra. “It’s gotten quite dark. The clouds must have decided to come back. It’s been a gloomy day.”

  “An eventful day.”

  “That also.”

  He watched the flames in the fireplace flicker and grow, waiting until the constriction eased from his throat. He couldn’t erase the image of this warrior woman fearlessly protecting his sister.

  “Tatiana Worth, you amaze me. I admire you more every time we meet.”

  “You flatter me. I am nothing out of the ordinary.”

  He moved back to kneel beside her chair. When she wouldn’t meet his gaze, he dipped a cupped hand into the basin and began to lave water over her scraped palms. “Do you know what I can’t stop thinking about?”

  She shook her head as he inspected the damage. “These poor hands strive to make a life for your aunts. You do whatever must be done without complaint. These hands saved my sister. I want these hands on me. Every time I see you, from the first time I saw you, I’ve yearned for you with a desperation that confuses me with its persistence. Since it’s useless to resist, I’ve never tried.”

  He removed the basin from her lap, took up the towel, and began to gently dab her palms dry. As he wrapped her hands with linen strips and tied them off, he said, sounding oddly sad, “There. Quite finished. That looks rather pretty, those little bows on the backs of your wrists.”

  “Thank you. It feels much better, and you’ve done it so well. Did tending your little sisters provide you with practice?”

  “No. I was rarely at home with them. Off at university or scribbling learned treatises
for my master, the magistrate. I expect that any proficiency I might have derives from tying fancy knots with neckwear. The girls were left alone with an irresponsible governess when Mother ran off with her Italian lover. I used to think less of Mother for doing so, but as of late, I have sympathy for her predicament. Following you wherever you go seems to make perfect sense.”

  “You cannot mean that.”

  “Not mean it? But I do. Most earnestly. My sisters have made lasting friendships at your school. They adore your aunts, even Miss Honoria. They have great respect for you and reiterate it every time I visit. In addition to all you do for your family, you dash out without a thought to yourself to rescue poor Charlotte.”

  “You make too much of what anyone would do.”

  “Not everyone, Tatiana Worth. Your courage and strength make me want to spend my life making you happy. Every night I lie in that bed and remember how you looked in the shadowed corner of that barn. You risked your reputation, everything you strive so hard to keep safe and well, for those few minutes of passion.”

  “Foolish of me.”

  “Then count me foolish also. I cannot wait to hear and watch you devour every sensation. The memory of it fills my head day and night.” He kissed her bandaged hands, stood and cupped her elbows to help her stand. “Instead of sleep, I dream of all the ways to take you, make you want me the way I want you.”

  Her smoke-blue gaze fixed him with a level stare. “So take me. Finish what you didn’t the other day.”

  Chapter 16

  Before she could protest or deny, he carried her to the bed and sat her on the edge. Between kisses and whispered entreaties, he unfastened her dress, had it drawn down around her waist and the front of her shift unlaced. She loved how he made love to her, framing her face with his hands, using his mouth on her with such skill and devotion to her pleasure. The bandages got in her way. She wanted to feel him, the strength of his arms and chest, the curve of bicep, to glide down the ridges of his spine to the irresistible mounds of rounded muscle below.