‘Why are you still here?’ The growl this time was from man, not dog.
‘I have brought you water. Here. Let me help.’ She crawled again into the tent and alongside Zach. He was on his back and she slipped her arm under his shoulders and helped him to half-sit. She reached for the cup and held it to his lips.
‘Just a few sips,’ she said.
After he lay back down, she felt his forehead again. Surely it was a little cooler? Less sweaty?
‘How do you feel?’
‘Not as ill as I did.’
‘When did it start?’
‘Yesterday, not long before I arrived. I managed to set up the tent, but nothing more.’
‘I have to go now, but I promise I will be back later this morning. I’ll bring food and rhubarb root and any other remedies I can find.’
‘I do not want you to come. You risk too much and—what if I am wrong and it was not something I ate, but something catching? I cannot be the cause of you falling sick. I will manage. I have before.’
She stroked his hair back from his face. ‘You do not need to manage. I want to come. I will take care—no one will know I am here, so there is no risk. And I have a strong constitution. I helped nurse my nephews and my niece through any number of childhood complaints and caught nary a one.’
If she thought he would be grateful, she was wrong. He scowled at her.
‘I do not want you to see me like this, woman. Weak. Dirty. What must you think of me? Of the sort of a man I am?’
She tried to contain her laugh at his disgruntled tone, but she could not prevent her lips stretching in a smile as she shook her head at him.
‘That is your male pride talking.’ She’d seen that often enough in her brothers and her nephews—that hatred, almost a fear, of being seen when they were at their most vulnerable. ‘And as to what kind of a man you are—you are a normal man. All this—’ she gestured at him ‘—has proved to me is that you are more human than I feared.’
His brows twitched upward. ‘Human?’
She felt a little foolish, but she said it anyway. ‘When we met, I saw you as almost a magical being, with the special rapport you had with animals and with nature. You seemed to understand my deepest fears without even knowing me. And part of me feared you had bewitched me. But seeing you like this...’
She hesitated. She picked up his hand—so strong, so capable, and yet, at this moment, in need of help. Her help.
‘You are human. And all humans, no matter how strong, need help from others from time to time. To admit that—to allow it—is not weakness. It shows courage.’
His throat rippled as he swallowed. She leant over him and stroked his hair back from his forehead again.
‘Be happy I am here, Zach. You might as well accept my help, for I will not turn my back on you when you have need of me.’
Chapter Eleven
Zach’s head pounded like the devil and his mouth felt—and tasted—like a stagnant pond slowly fermenting in the heat of the sun. But the stomach cramps that had so debilitated him had eased—and he just thanked God that, through the preceding night, he had managed to drag himself out of his tent whenever necessary. The thought of Lady Perfect discovering him this morning in soiled bedding—he shoved that thought aside with a shudder. He could think of nothing worse.
His bender tent was hot and airless. It must be close to midday. He reached for his cup, only to find he had drunk all the water. And kept it down. That, surely, was a good sign. But knowing there was no water drove his thirst until, unable to bear it any longer, he pushed aside his blanket and sat up. His head spun, red-hot spikes torturing his eyes and brain. He screwed his eyes shut, but remained sitting by the force of his will. After what felt like several hours of agony, the pain dulled to a throb. Teeth clenched, he carefully manoeuvred himself on to hands and knees and, remembering to grab his cup, he crawled out of the tent.
The bright sun stabbed at his eyes and it took several attempts before he could blink away the tears and actually see anything. A pail stood outside the tent, a couple of inches of water in the bottom of it. He dipped his cup in and drank greedily. His mouth and throat were soothed but, as the water hit his stomach, it roiled violently, cramping again. Zach rolled to one side and retched. He groaned, spat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘Is this yours?’
He lifted his head, squinting as he peered in the direction of the voice, trying hard to focus. A man stood some twenty yards away, holding Titan. He had a shotgun under his arm and two dogs at his heels. Further back stood another man, holding two horses. Zach’s first thought was for Myrtle. But, surely, he would have heard if the dogs had attacked her. She was likely hiding somewhere, waiting for them to leave.
‘Well?’
Zach eyed the man again. Too well-dressed for a groom or a gamekeeper, and there was something about him... He blinked again, gradually recognising the man he had not seen for more than a decade. Kilburn. He blanked out the memories. Time to think about them later. After Kilburn left.
‘He is mine.’
‘I found him wandering on my land. I will not tolerate it. If he strays again, I will have him shot. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll move on. Your sort aren’t welcome here.’
Kilburn threw down Titan’s rope and stalked off in the direction of the road. Titan turned his head and gazed after him, stoking fear in Zach’s gut. If Titan had tasted better grazing... Urgency gave him strength. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered over to his horse. Once he had hold of Titan’s rope, he felt he could breathe again and he sank to the ground. He must stake him but, for now, he could do nothing but lie there, panting as though he had run a mile. He felt extraordinarily vulnerable, out in the open instead of inside his tent, but he could do no more.
A cold nose touched his cheek. He forced open one eye. Myrtle grinned at him, her tongue lolling. He could feel his senses swimming; he wrapped Titan’s rope several times around his hand for safety, then closed his eyes.
* * *
‘Oh, good heavens!’
Cecily dropped her basket and ran to Zach, who lay in a heap out in the open, with Myrtle tucked up against him and Titan dozing over him, his huge hooves mere inches from Zach’s head.
‘Zach? Zach! Can you hear me?’
Cecily crouched by his side, her hand on his forehead. He was burning up, his shirt drenched with sweat, his lips cracked and dry.
Oh, dear God. What do I do? Think! Think!
Myrtle had hopped to her feet and stood a little distance away, eyeing Cecily uncertainly. Titan had roused.
I must get him away. What if he stands on Zach?
‘Horses never willingly tread on fallen riders, same as they’ll sometimes shy away from shadows or holes in the ground.’
Vernon’s words of advice from years ago echoed through her head, calming her. Alex had fallen from his pony and Cecily had panicked. She swallowed and forced herself to take deep breaths as she unwound Titan’s rope from around Zach’s hand and led him away. Then she looked around, feeling helpless again. Nothing in her upbringing had prepared her for this. Titan must have pulled his stake from the ground and Zach had, somehow, realised and come from his tent to capture him before he wandered away. She knew the horse was vital to Zach. It was her failure that had caused him to relapse.
‘Milady! Here you are. I warned you not to come, but would you listen?’
Never in her life had she been so relieved to be on the receiving end of one of Anna’s scolds.
‘There is no time for that, Anna.’ Cecily thrust the rope at her maid. ‘Here. Tie him to a tree or something for now, then come and help me move Mr Gray back to his tent.’
Anna held up her hands in horror and backed away. ‘I can’t, milady. Please don’t make me. I can’t abide horses, great snorting things.’
Cecily had forgotten Anna’s fear of horses. She led Titan to a nearby sapling and tied the rope around it and then, between
them, she and Anna managed to half-drag, half-carry Zach over to the tent. Cecily stooped to peer inside and wrinkled her nose. It was unbearably hot in there and it smelt stale. She straightened and looked around the site. The sun was still high in the sky, but the spreading canopy of a nearby oak provided welcome shade.
‘Come. Let us move him under the tree.’
After they had settled Zach, Anna dusted her hands off and gazed around the camp with a look of determination.
‘Why did you follow me, Anna? I told you to stay at the Grange.’
‘If you think I am going to sit in your bedchamber a-twiddling my thumbs while you run all manner of risks, you have another think coming, my lady. And it’s a good thing I did come. How would you manage this on your own?’
Cecily bit her tongue against the barely concealed scorn in Anna’s final comment, knowing the maid had a point and grateful for her presence. The task of caring for Zach would be much easier with two of them.
‘What if you are missed?’
‘I told Mr Parker you needed to sleep. That I would sit with you and no one was to be allowed to come to your room. How we shall stop your aunt from sending for her physician, mind, I do not know. I heard her carrying on when I sneaked out.’
Cecily grimaced. ‘We can only take each day as it comes. Let us sort out here first. And, Anna—’ she squeezed Anna’s shoulder ‘—I am pleased to see you.’
Anna’s cheeks went pink. ‘Oh, go on with you, milady.’
‘Can you light the fire, Anna? I need to move that basket out of the sun.’
Cecily fetched her discarded basket and placed it on the cart bed. She delved through the various packages and found what she was looking for.
‘Myrtle,’ she called. ‘Here, girl.’
Myrtle hopped over to Cecily, her eyes hopeful. Cecily tossed her the large bone Anna had spirited from the kitchen and watched as the dog settled down to gnaw at it. Then she went to the tent and dragged out all of Zach’s bedding, shook it out and draped it over nearby bushes to air. The fire was lit and flaming well. Anna picked up a pot and looked around.
‘Where did you get the water, milady?’
‘A stream. Over there.’ Cecily pointed. ‘I shall go.’
‘No, you will not. That’s not a fitting task for a lady. Just watch the fire. I shall fetch the water.’
After she had gone, Cecily went to Zach. His fiery colour had calmed and his breathing was easier. She lifted his hand and placed it on her lap, gazing down as she idly caressed his fingers.
‘Lady Perfect.’ A hoarse whisper.
She started. ‘Oh! I thought you were asleep.’
‘Thirsty.’
‘Anna has gone to fetch water.’
‘Anna?’
‘My maid.’
‘She is here?’ He struggled, trying to sit. ‘Dangerous.’
‘Hush.’ She pressed him gently back to the ground. ‘All will be well. She followed me, but she will help us. No one will find out.’
He closed his eyes, his forehead deeply furrowed. Then he opened them, and captured her gaze. ‘Kilburn. He was here.’
Horror clawed at her. Kilburn? Here?
‘But...why? How? Did he recognise you?’
He opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. He shook his head, frustration in his dark eyes.
‘Hush. Wait until Anna returns. It will be easier when you’ve had a drink.’
As soon as Anna returned, Cecily helped Zach to sip some water. He sighed, then coughed. ‘Better.’
‘Good. I have brought rhubarb root—can you tell us how to prepare the remedy?’
‘Boil a small piece in water for five minutes, then leave it to cool.’
Anna set about boiling a can of water while Cecily bathed Zach’s face.
‘Tell me about Kilburn. What did he say?’
‘He brought Titan back. He’d strayed on to Kilburn’s land.’
‘Oh.’ That did not sound so ominous. ‘I’m sorry. That was my fault. I moved his stake so he could graze, but it was harder than I anticipated to hammer it back into the ground.’
Humour crinkled the skin around his eyes. ‘Lady Perfect hammering? I’d like to have seen that.’
‘Well, I did not do a very good job of it, if Titan escaped that easily.’
‘No.’ Worry replaced the humour. ‘He must not stray again.’
Cecily patted his hand. ‘I know how important he is to you. Between us I am sure Anna and I can stake him securely.’
He looked away. ‘I can’t bear this,’ he muttered. ‘Lying here helplessly while you risk everything.’
‘Everything? That is an exaggeration, surely?’
He clutched her hand. ‘You must not allow Kilburn to see you here.’
‘Did his lordship recognise you?’
Zach snorted. ‘Of course he did not. He looked at me, he saw a gipsy and he looked no further.’ He shook his head, his brow furrowed. ‘And that is how it must stay,’ he added in a mutter.
‘I am sure there is no danger of him recognising you,’ she said, soothingly. ‘And you must not trouble yourself about me, for even if Lord Kilburn should find out I am here, he can hardly—’
‘No!’ His grip tightened, almost painfully, as he half-rose. ‘Promise me. Promise—’ He collapsed back, beads of sweat dotting his forehead and upper lip. ‘Your maid—now she knows about me, she can come.’ Pain knit his brows. ‘I want you to—go. Stay away.’
It might be the most sensible solution, but she would not do that. She wanted to be here, to care for him and to make sure he got well and strong again. There was little to be gained in arguing the point, however. It would merely agitate him to no purpose.
She said nothing, but bathed his face again.
* * *
‘Milady! Milady!’ A hand shook Cecily’s shoulder. She tried to bat it away...she’d been having a wonderful dream and she was loath to be disturbed. ‘Milady!’
‘Wha—? What is it?’
She winced. She’d been sitting on the ground, leaning back against something hard, and her muscles grumbled as she straightened and prised open her eyes. Anna’s round face was close to hers, her eyes huge.
Zach!
Cecily jerked fully awake. ‘Anna? What is it?’
She looked around. Zach was asleep, by her side, breathing peacefully. She placed one hand on his forehead. It was cool. Hopefully he was on the mend.
‘That horse, milady. Galumphing great thing. It’s gone.’
Titan! Cecily scrambled to her feet and grabbed Anna by the shoulders. ‘Did you see him go?’
The maid nodded, her eyes tearful. ‘I tried to stop him, I swear I did. But he just kept going.’ She held out her hands, red with rope burn, and the tears spilled. ‘He was too strong, milady.’
‘Which way, Anna?’
The maid pointed towards the road. Cecily did not hesitate, but ran after the cob, cursing herself for not properly attending to him earlier. She’d intended to tie him somewhere where he could graze, and to give him water, but she’d been so focused on caring for Zach she’d forgotten all about poor Titan. Both Myrtle and Sancho roamed free, but Titan needed proper care and she’d failed him. She reached the road and saw Titan immediately—grazing happily on land belonging to Chilcot Manor. She walked towards him. At the last minute, just as she was about to pick up his rope, he walked on. Once out of her reach, his head went down and he tore again at the grass.
After several futile attempts to catch the infuriating animal, Cecily stopped and pondered her dilemma. The sun blazed out of the midsummer sky and she untied her bonnet ribbons—grimacing at the clamminess beneath her chin where the bow had been tied—and used her chip-straw hat as a makeshift fan. Every failed attempt had driven Titan further from the road and closer to Chilcot Manor. Ergo, she must try to catch him from the other side. She plopped her hat back on her head, leaving the ribbons dangling, and circled wide until she was between Titan and the house. He lifted his huge
head and eyed her as she once again walked towards him. With a disdainful flick of his head, he turned and lumbered back towards the road, but only far enough that she could not grasp the rope. Patiently, she repeated the exercise until, finally, he was at the roadside. At least they would soon be back at the camp and, between them, surely she and Anna—
An unladylike curse escaped her lips as Titan threw up his head, swished his tail and trotted in a wide circle around her. On the heels of that spurt of anger came tears of pure frustration. Why was he so difficult to catch? Other horses weren’t as awkward as this.
How would you know? You’ve always had grooms to carry out such tasks.
She felt like screaming, but she bit it back.
Then the braying began. She’d not seen Sancho since she’d arrived at the camp—she’d barely spared him a thought, knowing Zach allowed him to roam free. She gazed in the direction of his haunting cries as they rose from the vicinity of the camp and echoed through the still summer air like a harbinger of doom. He was nowhere to be seen. She was torn. Should she return to the camp to make sure everything was all right, or should she continue the seemingly futile task of catching Titan? She looked back at the escapee. The massive cob stood to attention, his head high, ears pricked. Then he trotted up the field towards her, the ground vibrating beneath his feet. He did not stop, but went straight past her, over the road, and a disbelieving laugh burst from her as he disappeared in the direction of the camp.
Stunned, she followed.
Zach was now propped in a sitting position under the tree. Anna tended the campfire and Sancho and Titan were touching noses as they greeted one another. Angry, feeling an utter fool, Cecily marched over to the two animals and picked up Titan’s rope.
‘He would not allow me to catch him,’ she announced.
‘That is good. I have trained him well.’
Zach grinned, sending Cecily’s indignation soaring anew. He looked much improved from earlier, but that was no excuse for him to mock her.
‘That appears to me to be a remarkably silly trick to teach an animal.’
Lady Cecily and the Mysterious Mr. Gray Page 11