‘It is done.’ His voice was grim and belied the sense of relief he actually felt.
‘Hold her still Edgar while I tear her petticoat to form a support.’
Waring walked back over, nodding his approval when he saw the task was done.
‘Good job, is she awake yet?’
‘No still out cold, how’s our friend over there?’
‘Dead Edgar old boy, stone dead, damn good shot at that distance, don’t think even old Alex here could have bested it.’
Alex dragged his attention away from his wife for a second, looking up.
‘Barrington?’
‘No’ Waring replied, ‘that damn gypsy, so the question remains where is old Lord Hector?’
‘Edgar rose to his feet, ‘you get her back to the house Alex, the two of us will be more than a match for the old rogue. We’ll get him locked up and be back before dark. Take your horse and leave my gelding and that chestnut of yours, they’ll be safe enough on the common till you can send a groom to pick em up.’
Alex nodded and turned back to Catherine stroking her cheek with a worried frown.
Slowly she opened her eyes, and relief flooded through him. As if drugged she struggled to focus on the face above her, and he watched as recognition dawned in them. She tried to move but he held her still and she winced at the unexpected pain. The combination of relief and weariness rendered his voice rougher than he intended.
‘In trouble again my lady?’
He smiled at the spirit in her answer.
‘It would seem I inconvenience you again my lord.’
He carried her held closely in front of him, her head resting on his chest and the scent of her hair tantalizing his senses, and as he walked Al-Ashab the few miles home, he vowed he’d never let her down again.
Chapter 11
It was some hours later when Alex found time to pour himself a glass of claret and seat himself in the chair Catherine had purchased as part of her renovations of this drawing room, and placed where he would have an uninterrupted view of the rolling parkland in front of the house. On arriving back he’d taken Kate to her chamber and waited with growing impatience for the arrival of the doctor. All the while Kate had remained awake, but the lack of colour in her face and her very silence worried him. Her maid had been called for and it was she who bathed her mistress’s face with cool water and urged her to sip a little tea. It was almost an hour before the doctor arrived and he still smarted from that kindly old man’s insistence that he remove himself from her chamber.
‘Sir I must insist you leave immediately. I understand your anxiety for her ladyship but your very agitation is, in itself, causing her further distress. Find yourself some distraction and you might even see to your appearance man, then when I have made your wife comfortable I will report to you on her condition.’
So, not without protest he’d left the doctor and Catherine’s maid to their work. He’d busied himself attending to as much of the aftermath of the fire as he could for the time being. Charles and the staff had gained control of the fire with admirable efficiency in his absence. So all that was left for him to do was to inspected the stables, which were gutted. He’d spoken to each and every member of his staff, ascertaining that none were injured and praising them for their efforts, without which there would certainly have been much more damage. He made arrangements both to temporarily stable the horses in a nearby barn and to retrieve the two horses left on the common. Charles had been shown to a room where he could rest and remove the grime of the afternoon’s labour and finally Alex had taken the doctor’s advice and bathed and changed before making his way to the drawing room to wait. The need for news of his wife’s condition was overwhelming. He sipped his wine, sorely tempted to return to Catherine’s chamber, He was on the point of doing just that when Evans entered.
‘Milord, cook will have dinner ready within the half hour. She apologizes that it will consist of whatever she can find, but I assured her you would understand, given the day’s events. Oh and Miss Onesta and the little lad have had their meal in the nursery and are set to retire.’
‘My dear man, I would not be put out if all Mrs. Morgan could find to serve were bread and cheese! Just make sure there is enough to feed four, for I expect Lord Edgar and Mr. Waring to return soon. Please see that chambers are prepared in readiness for them and then you are all to take the rest of the night off. See that the grooms and gardeners eat with the indoor staff and open a case of wine, two if you feel the need.’
‘That’s very good of you sir, but we will do quite nicely with Mrs. Morgan’s home-made porter. Though an early night will do us all good I’m sure.’
‘Where is the boy Guto? I had better see him, if not for him heavens knows what might have happened.’
‘The boy’s upstairs sir, he stayed fighting the fire until it was put out, then went to find her ladyship’s little dog and is now sat with it outside her door. Says he will not leave until it’s back with its mistress as she would wish.’
‘See that the doctor comes directly to me once he’s left her ladyship Evans and in the meantime fetch me the boy and tell him to bring the dog.’
‘Very good milord.’
Alex sighed, it seemed a bit of a lad had more staying power than he did, defying all to be by her side. What on earth was taking the damn doctor so long!
It was barely the end of August and the nights were drawing in already. Through the window Alex watched the day fade and night take its place. He felt as if this nightfall were more significant than those that had gone before. The day’s events having turned upside-down may things that had seemed only a few hours ago to be fundamental, and unchangeable. He’d come close to losing his wife today, losing her to the most appalling death, at the hands of an evil man. He’d failed her, failed in that most sacred duty to her, to keep her safe, and all of that could be laid at his own door. How could he have got it so wrong? And Emily, who had suffered so at Barrington’s hand, he had failed her too. He had been so obsessed with the notion of Edward Calthorpe as her abuser that he’d plunged into the revenge-obsessed existence that had led to all of this. The thought that his dearest girl could not come to him for help, that she could see no other way but to take her own life... the thought threatened to undo him.
What kind of a man was he that he could be so caught up in the past, so obsessed by the search for revenge for wrongs done, that he completely failed to measure those wrongs against his own actions? He, Alex Tremayne had, by his actions, almost brought Catherine, who had played no part in that earlier tragedy, to her death. She was innocent and yet he’d used her so badly, causing her unhappiness and distress and now she lay upstairs, injured and...’
He could think no further, could not let himself imagine what she might have suffered at Barrington’s hand, suffered because of his ineptitude. A knock at the door heralded Evans with the boy Guto. Thankful for the interruption Alex smiled at the boy.
‘Come here lad, you have nothing to fear, come closer.’
The light from the candle showed the boy to be exhausted, pale as a ghost, still smudged with the soot of the fire, he held Catherine’s misshapen little spaniel to his chest like a talisman.
‘I was waiting sir, to take Scrap to milady, she will be wanting him you see, and I must be there with him.’
‘Yes, yes, you are always there for her ladyship, would that others of us could show such devotion, and in a moment you may go back to wait with Scrap, but I need to speak with you first. Guto you have done me a service this day that merits the highest reward. If not for you Tom and I would have perished in the fire, worse we might not have been in time and my lady may have been lost. You have been a brave and loyal boy today Guto and in the morning we will send for your parents and we will discuss what I can do to repay you. I am determined that you shall have whatever it takes to ensure you have a life of prosperity and good fortune. It may be that you can go to school, and learn to be a teacher or a clergyman, but for now
to bed I think so go, take her ladyship her dog, good lad, good lad indeed.’
Evans ushered Guto out just as the doctor made his entrance.
‘Well doctor, and about time, shall you have a glass of wine as we talk? Evans a glass for the doctor.’
‘Thank you your lordship, I will, it has been a day and no mistake.’
Alex waited with barely disguised impatience while Evans filled a glass of claret and the old doctor settled his bones into an easy chair.
‘Your wife sir has been badly shaken up, but as far as I can see, apart from exhaustion and some cuts and bruises she is none the worse for wear. Your prompt action at the scene, has prevented any permanent damage to her shoulder, and she is sleeping now with the help of a draught of opium. Though I had the devil of a job getting her to take it I can tell you. She’ll be right as rain in a day or so, right as rain.’
‘Thank you doctor, I am grateful for your care of her, and you are sure she has suffered no lasting harm?’
‘Well as I said as far as I can tell. Though who can say that she will not suffer with nerves or some such thing as a result of her ordeal. If you are asking if she was molested in that way by her abductor, I would say not, but having said that, she has some bruises that speak of a vicious assault and certainly an attempt to... Yes indeed, very nasty and that may result in attacks of the vapours or something similar. You will have to take care to keep all calm and quiet for some time to come, ladies are not strong when it comes to upsets like this my lord, not strong at all.’
Alex smiled at the thought of his Kate suffering an attack of the vapours, if the old doctor but knew her disposition! The doctor rose to leave just as Lord Edgar and Henry Waring arrived back, the two young men in obvious high spirits filling the room with their presence, laughing and joking as they helped themselves to wine.
‘Alex, it is all taken care of, but before we regale you with the details, tell us, her ladyship, how is she?’
‘Sleeping sir, and I would like her to remain so, Lady Tremayne has suffered a shocking ordeal, shocking and I would thank you to have a care to keep the house quiet and allow her to rest.’
The old doctors reprimand made the two of them look sheepish and Alex smiled to himself, it seemed his lady could command devotion in all the males that dealt with her, no matter their ages.
‘Evans will see you out doctor and rest assured the house will be kept quiet, and my wife will rest undisturbed, I will guarantee it.’
‘Good, good I am glad to hear it, and I will call again in the morning. Good evening sir.’
Alex watched the old man leave before turning to his friends.
‘Well?’
‘Heavens we did not mean to upset and disturb her ladyship Alex.’
‘Waring, I do think Alex is referring to the evening’s events and not to our rather boisterous entry. The old doctor is a little too protective of his patient, for I doubt very much if we could make enough noise between us to carry through these old walls to the upper chambers. Is that not so Alex?’
‘Indeed, though I thank you all the same for your concern, now, what of your evening’s work?’
‘Oh, yes well it is all in hand.’
Waring went on with that enthusiasm for bloodletting so unique to young men who have not seen enough of it.
‘The gypsy was dead of course as you know, for even if Edgar had missed, which, at that distance he did not, the fall had broken his neck, and just as well for he’d have hanged anyway, for the horse thief and murderer he was. Barrington is dead too, stabbed through the chest by the wretch.’
Edgar took over the tale.
‘We rode to Beechgrove, where all was deserted except for Barrington, who we found dead in his chamber, blood everywhere, quite gruesome. It was simply a matter of riding to the town to inform the magistrate and send men out to retrieve the bodies. A messenger will be sent to inform Lady Barrington in the morning.’
‘And the other two?’
‘Found in hiding, preparing to escape as part of the traveling fair. They are in goal now and will stand trial as horse thieves. Like as not they’ll hang.’
Alex smiled, ‘then it is over, we can return Roxton’s mare and owners of good horseflesh may rest easy in their beds, at least for a while.’
At this point Charles Stayton made his entrance, and the whole story had to be repeated for his benefit after which Edgar and Waring were shown to their rooms to clean up before dinner, leaving Alex and Charles alone.
‘Charles I must thank you for your help today, more than my stable block could have been lost if not for you.’
‘Alex old man, I assure you your staff had it all in hand, I merely pitched in and helped.’
‘I thank you all the same.’
‘Any time old man, any time.’
It was late by the time Alex was able to excuse himself from the company of his friends. They’d dined rather well all things considered, on cold mutton pie, sliced gammon ham, hot buttered potatoes and a selection of cheeses and fruit. Alex thanked providence that cook had not found time to make the dreaded béchamel sauce for once, and ate heartily. Though all evening he was counting the minutes until he could reasonable excuse himself and make his way up to check on Kate.
Her chamber was in partial darkness, with only two candles lit on the far side of the room, so she could sleep undisturbed. Anwen her maid sat in an armchair beside the fire while her mistress slept. The girl jumped up at his entrance.
‘My lady sleeps milord, the draught the doctor gave her has helped, and she is to have another if she wakes, but not this side of midnight.’
‘I will see to her ladyship now, so you may retire. I will ring if there is anything more for you to do. I fear you will have missed out on the merriment downstairs.’
‘Maybe sir but Mr. Evans did bring me my supper and I would rather be with my lady.’
‘Your care of her is much appreciated Anwen, good night and thank you.’
‘Goodnight sir.’
Alex moved to the bedside, looking down on Kate as she slept. She looked pale, deep blue smudges under her eyes, eloquently speaking of the day’s ordeal. Her hair was spread on the pillow and he wound a tendril around his forefinger and longed to bury his face in it. The little dog, Scrap, lifted his head to check on this threat to his mistress and on seeing Alex seemed to judge all was well and went back to sleep. The chair beside the fire looked comfortable enough and Alex settled himself down, so that if she woke in the night he’d be there.
With the nights shadows came a resurgence of the guilt and self-reproach and he began, from a need to understand what had gone wrong, to analyse the events of the last few months. Hours later, when he’d reached at least a partial understanding of the contribution of his own poor behaviour to recent events, he began to see how to proceed.
To begin with there would be no repetition of the adventures of the last few weeks. Though he had to admit to having found working to bring the gang to justice provided a welcome excitement and knowing that no more valuable animals would end up butchered, was in itself satisfying. What was not acceptable was his failure to stop the intrusion of this work into his private life. The danger to all he held dear had been proved too great, and from now on he would concentrate on the health and happiness of his family.
His family, how well that phrase sat in his thoughts. Even given the estrangement between them, Kate had still succeeded in creating a home at Llangorfan, something he’d not anticipated. Despite her revenge of the dreadful food and her insistence that the place cultivate a chill that permeated into the very bones, there was an atmosphere of contentment surrounding the inhabitants of the house. The servants went about their work with an enthusiasm, even Evans smiled occasionally and the boy Guto sang constantly. Onesta and the child, his nephew, had moved into the main house at Kate’s insistence and the house was filled with the sounds of laughter and play. Kate herself, always accompanied by her misshapen little spaniel, busied herself c
heerfully orchestrating all this and only showed her discontent where her husband was concerned. For him she was haughty, cold, angry, and he knew that though she did not let him see her unhappiness it was still very real. That thought, more than any other caused him unease, and that could only be because it was the central truth that he was seeking. Kate, he loved her and so her safety and happiness should have been his goal, his only goal and they had not been. Now he saw that he must achieve them both, no matter the cost to himself. He would make her happy, and to do that he saw that he must begin again, woo her, win her, make her fall as deeply in love with him as he was with her and more than that, if he failed in that task he must be prepared to let her go.
He must have dozed and when he woke the fire had burned low and the room was beginning to chill. Adding a few logs from the basket, he watched as it came back to life, before crossing the room to check on Kate. Only half asleep now she began to stir, fighting the narcotic grip of the opium. With heavy eyes she looked about, not quite able to focus on her surroundings. As she tried, confused, to sit up Alex moved to support her, sitting beside her on the bed to do so. It seemed to be all she sought, and she turned towards him and snuggled closer. He felt her arms slip around his waist as she settled her face against his chest. Her breathing deepened and he knew she slept again. There was nothing to do but ease his legs up onto the coverlet and relax back onto the bed holding her. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to doze, content that for now she was safe in his arms.
Catherine woke alone the next morning, Anwen was busying herself preparing her bath, and her hot chocolate steamed invitingly on her bedside table. She attempted to sit up, but every part of her seemed to hurt. Her body was stiff and sore and her head felt ready to explode so she gave up the effort and lay back, trying to piece together the fragments swirling in her brain. After a few minutes her pounding head insisted she give up. She remembered the blood and riding away from Beechgrove House having escaped Barrington and the gypsy, there had been a rider in pursuit and a group ahead, a shot and after that her recollections were at best patchy and hazy. An old man, Anwen, something that tasted bitter. Then Alex, or at least the scent and warmth of him, a dream maybe.
Vengeful Lord, Defiant Lady. Page 17
