Pendragon

by Catherine Coulter

  He was going to kill William.

  “She’ll live, but it’s bad enough, my lord.”

  Thomas couldn’t stand it. She was still unconscious, so pale she looked dead, her flesh so cold. He pulled another blanket over her. Every few moments he lightly laid his palm on her chest to feel her heart.

  He stared up at Dr. Pritchart with haggard eyes. “You swear she will live?”

  Dr. Pritchart rubbed his palm over his forehead. “I think so. The bullet went through her, high on her shoulder, which is a good thing, less chance of infection, which would most certainly kill her. Now, I must set in stitches, both in her shoulder and in her back.”

  Meggie moaned and opened her eyes.

  Thomas cursed. Meggie frowned. “What’s wrong? Oh, Blessed Hell, something hurts, Thomas, hurts really bad.”

  “I know, sweetheart. Just hold on.”

  “Give her some brandy, that will help. Then hold her down, my lord.”

  When Dr. Pritchart had finished setting the black stitches, Thomas stared down at her white flesh, the blood and black thread all mixed together, and he couldn’t bear it.

  Her eyes were closed. She’d said not a word while Dr. Pritchart was stitching her flesh together. Not made a sound, but she’d clutched his hands so tightly they hurt. He’d wished she’d pass out, but she hadn’t. She said now, “I’m going to be all right, Thomas. Stop worrying. I heard you saying over and over that you were going to kill William. Why? Did he get another girl pregnant?”

  “Not that I know of. No, Meggie, he was supposed to stay with you. Since he was worried you would try to stomp him into the ground if he stayed too close, he said he would keep his distance. Didn’t you wonder?”

  “Well, I saw Jem the stable boy walking just behind me, and I thought he was the one who was to make sure no one came close.”

  “Yes, Jem was to stay fairly close as well. However, he got sick to his stomach and had to come back to the stable. I had also told William to stick close to you.”

  “He wasn’t there?”

  Thomas shook his head, brought her hand to his mouth, kissed her fingers.

  “Maybe he was the one who shot me.”

  “He could have, but why would he do it? He knows you dislike him, but why would he want you dead? That makes no sense, Meggie. Now, here’s some more laudanum for you. Dr. Pritchart says just a few more drops of this will send you off into a very nice place where there isn’t any more pain.”

  “That would be good,” she said and drank down the barley water laced with laudanum.

  “Will the girl live?”

  “Yes,” Thomas said to his mother, and walked to the sideboard to pour himself some brandy. “Her name is Meggie, not ‘the girl,’ and she is your daughter-in-law. Speak of her properly, Mother.”

  “You should hear what Libby calls her.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “A little ingrate.”

  Thomas’s eyebrow shot up. “Why would Aunt Libby call her that?”

  “She believes it is Meggie who is forcing you to have William marry that worthless girl. All because she’s a vicar’s daughter and is very rigid in her morality, too rigid obviously. Libby also says she likely highly disapproves of her liaison with Lord Kipper, and she has no right.”

  “I will tell Aunt Libby otherwise,” Thomas said. “Surely you corrected her, assured her that I am even more staid than my wife.”

  “No I did not. I don’t wish you to be staid. A bit of wickedness from you wouldn’t be amiss, Thomas.”

  “William has performed enough wickedness for the both of us.”

  “His is just a boy’s wickedness.”

  “William is a man,” he said, then just shrugged. His mother many times baffled him. He said, “Barnacle told me that Lord Kipper was here asking about Meggie.”

  “He doesn’t think William should marry until your sweet wife is able to attend. He is afraid she will die and then poor William would be attending both a funeral and his own wedding, which will be, you must admit, like a second funeral.”

  Thomas sighed. There was so much to be done here at Pendragon, but none of it was important. The only thing that was important was Meggie. He had to find out who had shot her. He had a very bad feeling about a third attempt. He left his mother, went to the small estate room, and wrote a letter to Meggie’s father. It was his right to know there was trouble. It was the hardest letter he’d had to write in his life.

  “Open your mouth, Meggie.”

  Meggie obeyed, but she didn’t open her eyes. It was potato soup and it was delicious. She kept eating until Thomas said, “You ate the entire bowl. I’m proud of you. Now, how does your shoulder feel?”

  “Not as bad as yesterday.”

  “Good. There’s no infection, no fever. You’ve got grit and guts, that’s what Dr. Pritchart said. You’re so strong, he doesn’t believe he’ll have to coddle you even when you birth our children.”

  The last was said with a good deal of satisfaction, and Meggie smiled, now opening her eyes to look up at him. She frowned. “You’ve lost weight, Thomas. You should have eaten some of that soup.”

  “Now that I know you’re not going to heaven before your time, I will get food down my gullet again.” He lightly traced his fingertips over her cheeks, her brows, smoothed her hair behind her ears, leaned down, and kissed her.

  “You scared me out of a good year of life.”

  “I was afraid of that. I knew I couldn’t die, knew it would flatten you. You feel things so very deeply.”

  A black brow shot up a good inch. He felt things deeply? “What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

  “I mean that if something final happened to me, you wouldn’t recover. You would feel guilty and it would gnaw at you.”

  “It would be warranted. It’s more than that, Meggie. Perhaps you finally realize how important you are to me.”

  “Oh yes. Possibly as important as you are to me.”

  She yawned even as those words of hers floated through the still air to his ears. He went still. He wanted to ask her what she meant, but he didn’t. He watched as her eyes closed. He listened as her breathing evened into a light sleep. He thanked God she’d survived.

  “It must be luncheon potato soup.”

  He didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. For a moment, he feared she was losing her wits. “What about Mrs. Mullins’s soup?”

  “It was delicious. Since she still can’t manage a tasty dinner, this must be for luncheon. I’m very grateful. Please thank her for me, Thomas.”

  “I did hear her singing.”

  “That’s it, then. She’s come up with an ode to the potato.”

  32

  TWO DAYS LATER Meggie was sitting up in her bed, smiling. A beautiful smile, Thomas thought, balancing a tray on his arms. On that tray were Cook’s famous nutty buns, smelling like cinnamon and butter.

  Meggie’s mouth watered. She even began singing Cook’s Nutty Bun song. She clutched the tray to her chest, had one of those nutty buns to her mouth within a second. While she ate, Thomas said, “The wedding will go forward. I have decided that no more time will be wasted. I will carry you downstairs. What do you think?”

  “I agree. Get that miserable William on the straight and narrow. I’d do it now, today.”

  He laughed. “Dearest, if I could get the preacher here, I would, but upon inquiry, he was seeing to a very ill uncle in Cork. On Sunday it will happen, as planned. Now, this afternoon I have invited Jenny MacGraff to come for tea. You will wish to get to know her as she will be your sister-in-law. I think you will like her, Meggie. She’s honest and straightforward, a pretty girl with a nice smile and a good heart. The only thing in question is her taste and her good sense, since she succumbed to William. Damn his eyes, if he would only realize it, he’s a lucky man.”

  Meggie yawned, took another bite of the nutty bun. “I look forward to it. Will you tell your mother and Aunt Libby to be kind to her?”<
br />
  “I will make suitable threats to keep them reasonably civil.”

  “William came to see me,” Meggie said as she swallowed the last of a nutty bun and reached for another. “He was all sorts of apologetic, told me he’d had to see about a wedding present for Jenny and had trusted Jem to stay with me and that was why he hadn’t been watching over me that day.”

  “Yes,” Thomas said. “That is what he told me as well.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  Thomas rose and began his familiar pacing. Meggie looked forward to the day when he wouldn’t have to pace more often than, say, once a month.

  “I don’t know,” he said over his shoulder. “He could have shot you, just like you said to me, but again, why?”

  “My lord.”

  It was Barnacle. For once, there was no look of agony on his face. For once, he was standing straight, his shoulders squared.

  Thomas was over to him in an instant. “Oh God, something dreadful has happened. Out with it, Barnacle. I can take it.”

  “I’m very sorry, my lord, but Teddy MacGraff is here. His daughter is missing.”

  Thomas just stared down at him blankly. “Jenny is missing? What is this?”

  “That is all Mr. MacGraff said, my lord. His daughter is simply missing. This is a conundrum that will unsettle us all. Mrs. Black has done away into one of her silences, something she has not done in a very long time. Everyone knows there is something very wrong here, and now this. Jenny is much liked, my lord.”

  Thomas merely nodded. “Thank you, Barnacle. Tell Teddy that I will be down shortly and we will immediately start a search.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Barnacle turned toward Meggie, saw that she was pale, and said, “You just ate some nutty buns and that is good. You must be certain my lady, that you must keep enough heft so it will help me when you walk on my back.”

  “I will have her walk on your back when she is carrying my child, Barnacle. Then we’ll hear you yell.”

  “Aye, my lord, that you will. I will go stay with Teddy MacGraff.”

  Thomas nodded, then turned back to his wife. “I want you to remain here in bed, Meggie. I don’t want you to rest, I want you to think about this. I am going to find William.”

  William was standing by the far wall in the drawing room, at least twenty feet between him and his future father-in-law.

  Teddy MacGraff yelled so loud a crystal shepherdess nearly shook herself off the mantel. “Where is she, you little puke?”

  “I don’t know, sir, I swear it on my late father’s grave.”

  “That old blighter? From everything I’ve heard about him, he was a rank one, the old lord. Kicked you and your mother right out, he did, his lordship and his mother before you. Aye, obviously the old earl was a grand one, he was, and you’re his spawn, now aren’t you? If I were you I would certainly swear at his bloody grave, but never on it.” Teddy wanted to spit, but knew he couldn’t, not in the drawing room of Pendragon. He was scared, more scared than he’d been when his wife had struggled so hard to birth Jenny. She hadn’t made it the second time, curse him for his lust. Jenny, his pride and joy, now missing. Where? Someone took her, he knew it.

  William took a very small step farther away. “Perhaps, sir, she didn’t want to marry me, sir. Perhaps she’s run away to Dublin.”

  “I don’t think so, William,” Thomas said from the doorway. “When did you realize she was gone, Mr. MacGraff?”

  “She always makes me lunch at exactly twelve. I walk into our cottage on exactly the last stroke of the village clock and there my lovely Jenny is, smiling and leading me to the table. She wasn’t there. There was no food.”

  “You’ve spoken to all the neighbors?”

  “Of course, my lord. There was no reason for her to leave. She was whistling—whistling—last night, all dreamy-eyed because she was going to marry him, that little bastard.” Teddy MacGraff took an angry step toward William.

  “I didn’t harm her, Mr. MacGraff. I swear it to you.”

  “Where were you last night, William?” Thomas asked mildly.

  William looked down at his feet. “I was with Lord Kipper, sir. I fear I was a bit drunk.”

  “Will Lord Kipper tell me this is the truth?”

  “It is the truth, Thomas. I wouldn’t hurt Jenny. Really, I wouldn’t. I like her.”

  “All of her clothes were still there, Teddy?”

  “Mrs. Ezra said they were, my lord. I had her check Jenny’s room and all her gewgaws that belonged to her dear mother. Everything were still there, and in place.”

  “We will organize a search immediately,” Thomas said. “William, you will lead the search.”

  “What will you do, my lord?”

  “I am going to speak to Lord Kipper.”

  An hour later Thomas was standing in Lord Kipper’s drawing room, an elegant eighteenth-century array of gilt and white furnishings that dazzled the eye. Lord Kipper looked right at home amidst the fabulous beauty.

  “What William said is true, Thomas. He was with me. I was trying to, er, reconcile him to his fate, not a bad one, I assured him. Perhaps a wife would steady him, that’s what I told him.”

  “Did he get drunk?”

  “Just a little. I don’t like to see young men drink too much, Thomas, you know that.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Well, it’s a fact. William didn’t leave until well after midnight. He returned this morning at about ten o’clock. I had a gift for him, a wedding present.”

  “What would that be?”

  “A lovely epergne that belonged to my mother, to set in the middle of his table. Ah yes, I realize it will be, in fact, in the middle of your table, but it is nonetheless a lovely gift that his bride will cherish.”

  “That is very kind of you, Niles.”

  Lord Kipper just nodded. “Where do you think the girl is, Thomas?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Ah, in case you’re wondering, my man, Trupper, saw William arrive. He showed him in here. My servants don’t lie, Thomas. As you know, Trupper was at Waterloo. The man wouldn’t accept a lie from anyone.”

  Thomas knew it was true. He nodded.

  “Where is the epergne?”

  “William took it back to Pendragon. It was very well wrapped because he was riding and wanted it protected.”

  Now that he recalled, Thomas had seen a bundle set just inside the front doors of Pendragon.

  Well, damnation.

  Thomas returned to Pendragon. Teddy MacGraff said Jenny hadn’t been found as yet. The search for her continued, William leading it.

  Thomas went to see his wife, who appeared to be deep in thought. He watched her from the doorway for a moment, so grateful that she would be all right, so absolutely grateful to every power that be that she hadn’t been killed, that he nearly shouted with it.

  He said, swallowing, “Meggie.”

  She looked up, her brow clearing. “Did you find out anything?”

  He shook his head.

  She chewed her bottom lip a moment, then whispered, “Could you perhaps come here and hold me for a little while?”

  He held her until she lightly shoved against his chest. He eased her back down against her pillow.

  He told her what Lord Kipper had said.

  “So William couldn’t have anything to do with her disappearance.”

  “It appears not.”

  “Who, Thomas? Who could have taken her?”

  He shook his head. He knew it was driving her mad. It was driving him mad as well.

  Two days later Meggie was reclining on the once gold sofa, now showing as dismal grayish yellow in the sunlight that filled the drawing room, when her father and Mary Rose appeared in the doorway.

  She started to jump up, realized if she did, it wouldn’t be a good thing, and gave them her biggest smile.

  Tysen felt a leap of love and relief at that beautiful smile. She was alive; she would be all right. He’d had
to see her, see that smile of hers, to really believe she would be all right. He made it to that ugly sofa in under two seconds. He held his daughter gingerly, then more closely when he realized it was her left shoulder that was bandaged. He kissed her cheek and breathed in the rose scent of her.

  “Oh God, I prayed and prayed, Meggie.” He kissed her forehead, her nose, hugged her as close as he could without hurting her. “Everything will be fine now. You’re coming home with Mary Rose and me.”

  “I’m very glad to see both of you.” Meggie raised her face from her father’s neck and smiled at Mary Rose. “Are the boys all well?”

  “Oh yes. They can’t wait to see you. They hounded us to let them come, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “You look beautiful, Mary Rose.”

  “Thank you, Meggie, but that’s just my outsides. My insides have been a boiling cauldron of mushy fear for you. You’re looking much better than I’d thought you would, thank the good Lord.”

  “Meggie.”

  Meggie slowly raised her head at the sound of that voice. Jeremy was standing in the doorway, Thomas behind him. There was absolutely no expression on her husband’s face, but those dark eyes of his were as flat as a calm sea.

  “Jeremy.”

  “We are relieved to see you alive.”

  “I am as well.” She got hold of herself. “Now, what are you doing here?” And she cursed the fact that he was here. She wasn’t glad to see him. However, the sight of him hadn’t made her heart speed up, hadn’t made her want to cry with the endless wanting of him. No, seeing him had made her want to frown, and tell him to go away.

  It was quite true. She savored the lack of feelings for this man she’d believed she would love forever.

  “I wrote them about what happened,” Thomas said.

  Tysen said, “Thomas also wants us to take you back with us to the vicarage.”

  “Oh no,” Meggie said, separating herself from her father. “Thomas wants me right here. He’s just afraid that this person will get me on the third try. I’m not leaving Pendragon.”