by Kate Archer
Lord Burke nodded and said, “Come on, put your arm round my shoulders and I’ll get you to the carriage.”
Despite Lord Dalton insisting he did not need a doctor, he was all too willing to go with Lord Burke. Daisy was sure he was becoming exhausted.
As they left, Miss Minkerton said, “Are you quite all right, Miss Danworth? What has happened?”
Daisy took in a breath to steady herself. “I am perfectly fine, though I am not altogether sure what occurred.” She turned to the boy who stood by his boat. “You said Lord Dalton was somehow pulled underneath the water?”
“I said that’s what he said. I thought maybe it was just another high and mighty lord overconfident in himself who goes and practically drowns. Seems like there’s one every summer. Last year, one particular lord muckety-muck flailed round trying to impress I don’t know who and then blamed me for it.”
Daisy had no intention of following this boy down the walks of his memories to complain of every wrong ever done him, which she was equally sure he would not mind doing.
“Lord Dalton told you he was pulled under, but you don’t believe it,” she said.
The boy rubbed his chin in thought. Then he said, “I don’t rightly know. He don’t seem a fool and he was swimmin’ well. Then he disappears. Then he appears and swims well again, ‘cept for near drowning. Then he tells me somethin’ had him round the ankle and I did see the redness on it. On t’other hand, I don’t like to think of a creature being out there. No, I don’t like to think of that!”
Daisy could not make heads or tails of what had gone on. Miss Minkerton said, “Perhaps the only thing to think about is that Lord Dalton has escaped the situation, whatever it was.”
Daisy nodded. “I hope you have not been unduly shocked, Miss Minkerton,” she said. That was what she said, but what she meant was she hoped Miss Minkerton would not fall to pieces upon observing the man she admired so recently in peril.
“Goodness, no, Miss Danworth,” Miss Minkerton said. “In unexpected situations in which things must be done quickly, I find the best thing is to just get on with it. Now, I will send my maid for Doctor Sheldringham, if you will allow it. My family has known him for years and he is quite the best, I think.”
Daisy nodded. She could not help but be thankful for the suggestion. The only doctor her father had ever called for was Doctor Wade, who was a reprobate just like himself and only seemed to have cures for excessive indulgence.
“Now, Miss Danworth, we ought to get you home as well,” Miss Minkerton said. “You are beginning to shiver in the breeze.”
Mrs. Jellops, who had so far been sitting on the back steps of the bathing machine, said, “Yes, we must all go home and never return to this wretched place again. Nothing good ever comes of flinging oneself into the sea.”
Daisy could see poor Mrs. Jellops was shaken by the events of the morning. She was forever predicting disaster in the water and now it had happened.
At least, something had happened, though none of them really knew what.
“Betsy?” Miss Minkerton said. “I have your name correct?”
Betsy bobbed her head and Miss Minkerton said, “Do help Mrs. Jellops and I will help Miss Danworth.” She walked to the boy and pulled a coin from her reticule. “And you, young sir, do not go round talking of this and giving yourself nightmares. Best to forget all about it.”
The boy nodded, though Daisy did not think he looked convinced.
Daisy felt well able to let Miss Minkerton take charge. She realized she was a bit dazed at the moment. Whatever had taken place out in the deeper water, what she was sure of was that Lord Dalton had come close to losing his life.
His coughing so! It was awful. It was not him. Lord Dalton was never to be weak or hurt.
She did not know why she thought so, she only knew that she did.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Doctor Sheldringham arrived to the house within the hour. He was a late middle-aged fellow with a tanned face and a comforting way about him. He seemed brisk and unruffled and not at all surprised to hear of a mishap in the sea.
Daisy supposed he would not be surprised, he making his practice so near it. She led him through the back garden to Lord Dalton’s cottage while Bellamy officiously followed. She would have liked to go in, but for propriety’s sake she allowed Bellamy to take him inside and she sat down on the bench just outside. She knew full well she ought to return to the drawing room and await the doctor’s conclusions. Miss Minkerton had been left there to tend to Mrs. Jellops’ fractured nerves, which the lady had speedily decided could be remedied with tea and biscuits. Mrs. Broadbent appeared in full agreement and bustled off to make up a tray.
Still, Daisy was determined to know more than she knew at this moment. What had happened? Was there any permanent damage done?
She leaned back toward an open window, though she knew very well it was wrong to eavesdrop.
“Lord Dalton,” Doctor Sheldringham said, “let’s have a look.”
Daisy presumed the lord had made some effort to answer, but it got no further than a coughing fit.
“That happens every time he tries to talk,” Lord Burke said.
“Swallowed water, I see,” the doctor said. “You’ll need time to recuperate, I’m sorry to say. Coughing is your lungs’ attempt to clear out the salt and whatever other detritus you’ve taken in, so I will not give you an elixir to calm it. Tea to wet the throat, and a draught to assist your cough’s work will be sufficient.”
There was a long and silent pause. The doctor broke it by saying, “May I ask, why have you been deposited in this shack?”
“This is where they’ve put him to live,” Bellamy said, his voice full of the indignation he seemed to carry with him everywhere.
“Well he can’t live here at the moment,” the doctor said. “This will not do at all.”
“It’s the mistress though,” Bellamy went on. “She won’t think it proper to have him in the house.”
“I see,” the doctor said. “Then he must be moved to another house. This place is too damp. There will need to be a small fire laid to take the damp from the air and I have no faith in the chimney I’m looking at just now. It would sooner collapse than provide any benefit.”
“I am fine,” Lord Dalton said, his normally deep voice thin and raspy.
“He could go to the Minkertons,” Lord Burke said.
“Ah yes, the Minkertons. They have a fine house, set back from the sea. That would be just the ticket,” the doctor said.
“I will not—” Lord Dalton did not get further than that before being overtaken by another fit of coughing.
“There, you see?” the doctor said. “What do you want to do, my lord? Stay in this God-forsaken shack and get worse? You’re already at risk for pneumonia.”
As they argued back and forth, Daisy rose to return to the drawing room. Her thoughts were in such a muddle. She could not have Lord Dalton in the house, that would be quite wrong. On the other hand, it had given her some comfort to know that he was nearby.
The letters from her father’s friends had continued to arrive and she knew the watchmen had turned back Mr. Gelpsard only the night before. Apparently, he’d turned up after eight, worse for drink and claiming he’d been invited.
Her father’s house had been no better than a tavern when he was alive and so they would treat it still. She was grateful for the watchmen, but she would feel more comfortable if Lord Dalton were there to handle any real emergency that might spring up.
As well, she did not relish the idea of the lord ensconcing himself at the Minkertons. Through some late-night self-examination, she had begun to realize that she was fonder of Lord Dalton than she ought to be.
But what was the point of even knowing that? Did she think he would always just keep himself conveniently in her garden? How did one want somebody to stay close but also to stay away?
Regardless of how long the argument went on in the cottage about what was to be done, Dais
y was fairly certain that Lord Dalton would be soon enough packed in a carriage and on his way to the Minkertons.
She would be left guarded by the watchmen, Bellamy, and Mrs. Broadbent. Bellamy would be no use whatsoever and she thought Mrs. Broadbent would be her most stalwart defender.
Meanwhile, Lord Dalton would be welcomed into the warm embrace of the Minkertons.
It was all very irritating.
Chapter Seven
Despite his many objections, Burke had packed him a bag and Charles had been deposited at the Minkertons. He could not string four words together without coughing and had finally communicated his wish for paper and pen. He’d written a note to Burke, going some way to explaining that Miss Danworth might be in danger from ill-conceived lotharios coming knocking. And also, to feed the cat.
Burke had promised he would go to the house in the evening to have a word with the guards and assure all was well. And if he really must, he would feed the cat.
Charles wrote that he really must.
The relentless coughing had exhausted him and the doctor gave him some sort of awful draught which did nothing to stop it, but produced a far wetter cough and made his breathing somewhat easier.
As he lay in a bed in the Minkerton’s house, he replayed every moment of what had happened. Had it been a man who had pulled him down?
It must have been. His ankle had not teeth marks, nor the slime one might expect from a creature with tentacles. It had not felt like something otherworldly. It had felt like the grip of a hand.
If it were a man, why? Had it been some sort of joke and now the prankster failed to come forward on account of it going wrong?
And what about the pole he’d seen so briefly, breaking the surface and disappearing again?
What was the purpose of what had happened?
As he scoured his memory, one thought kept nagging. He’d had to fight hard to break free. There had been no indication that there was a plan to let go of him. No indication that it had been a joke.
If it were some sort of prank, he could see how a man might think it hilarious to grab and let go—to surprise and shock with no harm done. But to hold him down for so long…
If someone did mean him serious harm, he had a sinking feeling it might have to do with his guardianship of Miss Danworth. From the letters that continued to arrive, it was plain enough that the last thing these fellows wanted was a guardian on the scene.
Of course there was always Lieutenant Farthmore lurking in the back of his mind. He’d wondered if the fool would challenge him. Perhaps Farthmore had decided that would be too much trouble and had decided to drown him instead.
Charles stopped himself. He was allowing his thoughts to run away from him. There might be scores of fellows who wished to take their chance at Miss Danworth’s dowry, but none of them would resort to murder. It was too ridiculous. As for Farthmore, he could not imagine the drunken idiot was up to enacting a scheme so athletic.
Once he had dismissed that idea from his mind, he allowed himself to consider the more pleasant recollection of Miss Danworth’s person in a damp dress. It was wrong and ungentlemanly, but she had looked rather marvelous. It was not as if he’d spied inside her bathing machine, after all. Further, it was hard not to be gratified that she’d hurried herself in such a manner on his account.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The afternoon had stretched on after Lord Dalton had been transported to the Minkerton’s house and Miss Minkerton had taken her leave. Daisy and Mrs. Jellops sat sewing, though neither of them made much progress. Mrs. Jellops, especially, was unlikely to get much done, as her poor pudgy fingers trembled each time she took up a needle.
As the lady sighed and discontentedly stared at her needle and then sighed again, Daisy said, “You must not allow this accident to discompose you so very much. I am sure Lord Dalton will make a full recovery.”
Mrs. Jellops laid down her sewing and said, “I do not doubt it. But something evil has transpired, I feel it in my bones.”
“You do not believe in sea creatures?” Daisy said.
“No, certainly not. At least, I hope not. But if Lord Dalton told that boy he was pulled down. Well…”
“I will stay away from bathing, at least for now,” Daisy said. “I do not wish you to be upset.”
“It is not just that,” Mrs. Jellops said. “We’ve been left to fend for ourselves and I do not like it.”
“The watchmen will come at sunset,” Daisy said hopefully.
“Yes, I suppose so. I only feel so uneasy!” Mrs. Jellops said. “There was something calming about knowing Lord Dalton was just across the lawn. He is so strong and well I thought…dependable. I know I am being a ninny.”
“No,” Daisy said, “you are not. I feel it too. I think the best we can do is have an early dinner and we can sleep together, just as we have done in the past when we had need of comfort.”
Finally, Mrs. Jellops seemed to calm. “Of course, that is precisely what we will do. We will close the curtains and lock the bedchamber door. We will have each other for company and that will ease us both.”
“And perhaps we might have Mrs. Broadbent sleep in your room as it is next to mine?” Daisy asked. “I know it would be unusual, but the lady is, well she is so very…”
“Indomitable,” Mrs. Jellops finished. “I heartily agree to that idea. In truth, the lady gives me more comfort than any watchman at the bottom of the drive.”
All matters in Daisy’s household having been arranged, dinner had been served early and Mrs. Broadbent had been ensconced in the chamber next door. According to Betsy, this arrangement had caused a near uproar below stairs, as none of them had ever known a servant, housekeeper though she might be, to stay in the family’s wing.
Mr. Bellamy seemed most opposed on the theory that Mrs. Broadbent would take to crowing over it and reminding everybody that she’d done it. Gerald and Tom were put out because they’d grown used to Mrs. Broadbent’s fussing over them at night, making sure they’d had enough to eat and ordering water heated when they needed a bath. As for the maids, it further cemented in their minds that Mrs. Broadbent was a mysterious creature with unlimited powers.
Daisy could not much bother herself over the upset downstairs, as she was certain she’d made the correct arrangements. With Mrs. Jellops gently snoring next to her and Mrs. Broadbent snoring like thunder next door, she drifted off to sleep.
When she was awoken, she could not say how long she had slept or even what had disturbed her sleep. She sat up cautiously and listened.
Faintly, she heard the creak of a door below her. After years of frightened listening to noises below, she knew the house’s every sound. She was certain it was the door leading into the library.
She felt a wave of fear grip her, until it suddenly occurred to her what it must be that she’d heard. There were decanters of liquor in the library and she was certain Bellamy or the footmen had decided to slip in and steal a drink. Of course they would think of it, with Mrs. Broadbent safely out of the way above stairs.
Daisy leapt out of bed and silently opened the door. She intended to spot them and then shout at them. That ought to scare the wits out of them, which would be quite right for scaring her.
She moved softly down the corridor, avoiding all the floor planks that were loose and made a sound.
At the top of the staircase, she crouched down. She listened to rustlings and footsteps and then saw the figure of a man pass by the open library door. She could not make out who it was, but the person was dressed as if he’d been to a party. It was no servant.
She turned and hurried away, entirely forgetting to skip over the floor planks that creaked.
“Mrs. Broadbent!” she cried, knocking on the lady’s door. She knew she’d said it far too loud, but panic had overcome her. Someone had broken into the house!
The lady opened the door, her nightcap askew.
“There is someone downstairs,” Daisy whispered.
Though Daisy
was certain there could only be terror writ on her features, Mrs. Broadbent was of a different nature. She pulled a wood bat from behind the door and said, “Go in and lock the door behind you. I will deal with the scoundrel.”
“Do be careful, though,” Daisy whispered. “He may be armed.”
“As am I,” Mrs. Broadbent said, charging down the hall. As she neared the top of the stairs, the lady rang the bell pull for fire and the ringing sounded throughout the house.
Though Mrs. Broadbent had told her to lock herself in, Daisy could not in good conscience leave the lady to her fate.
She tentatively followed as the housekeeper bounded down the stairs. From her perch at the top of the stairs, she watched the lady chase after the dark figure, who had made for the front door. He disappeared through it and into the night.
As fast as footmen in nightshirts ran carrying buckets of sand in answer to the ring for fire, Mrs. Jellops staggered down the hall behind Daisy. “Are we on fire?” she cried.
“No, no such thing,” Daisy said. “There was an intruder and Mrs. Broadbent has chased him out.”
“An intruder! This place is well and truly cursed!”
Daisy knew this circumstance was unlikely to do anything good for poor Mrs. Jellops’ nerves, but she could not attend the lady this moment. She must discover what had been meddled with in the library.
“Do go back to bed and I’ll have Betsy bring you up a hot drink, a toddy will do you good.”
“Are there enough toddies in the world to settle me, I wonder,” Mrs. Jellops said, wandering back to her room.
Daisy hurried down the stairs and into the commotion that had since taken over the front hall. The footmen bravely stood at the doors, daring the scoundrel to come back and try his luck with their fists. Bellamy looked equally ready to take on all comers, though he remained safe behind them. The maids stood to the side, admiring the bravery before their eyes and perhaps admiring the bottoms of legs seen below nightshirts. Mr. Flanagan had taken one look at the situation and run back to the kitchens to retrieve heavy pots and pans, those articles of his profession being his preferred weapons. It was only Mrs. Broadbent who was all equanimity and sense.
