Christopher’s eyes widened as he slowly turned to look back at the dog. Cassandra had emerged from one of the labourer’s cottages nearby, a basket on her arm, and she called Link to heel. With a lingering look at the ducks, he reluctantly trotted over to his mistress, who smiled over at them before opening the gate to the next cottage in the row and urging the hound inside.
‘You mean…’
‘Link is Prancer; or rather, Prancer is Link. I suppose it depends how you look at it.’
‘Then Link was the link? How well Miss Austen named him!’
Rose couldn’t agree more, then frowned. Just how old had Prancer been when he’d been sent back in time? He’d have to be a decade older by now, though he didn’t look to be slowing down at all.
‘I wonder if it will encourage Miss Austen to name all her dogs Link?’
Christopher laughed. ‘Whatever prompts you to make such a supposition?’
‘Oh, just something I read once – about her having a dog called Link much later in her life.’ Rose smiled at her father, brushing the thought aside. ‘Shall we—?’
The sound of hooves pounding the ground drew their attention, just as a horse came into sight, moving at speed along the Gosport road from the direction of Chawton House.
‘Ahoy! Miss Wallace! Hold fast!’
It was Charles Austen, and he drew his steed to an untidy halt before them and swung to the ground. He was breathing heavily.
Rose’s grip on her father’s arm tightened involuntarily as Christopher addressed the younger man. ‘What is it, Captain?’
‘Miss Wallace must return to the house immediately, sir. Come, we must not delay.’ He tugged his horse over to a nearby mounting block, and Rose stared at him. Did he expect her to ride with him? She threw her father a worried glance, and he patted her hand where it rested on his arm.
‘What is wrong, good sir? You are alarming the young lady.’
‘Forgive me.’ Charles dashed a hand across his brow. ‘But it is imperative she come with me, sir.’ He held out his hand.
‘But what has happened? Is it Jane?’ Rose shivered. Had something awful taken place in her absence?
‘No. It is your friend. Mr Trevellyan.’
Chapter 19
Rose’s skin went cold. ‘What of him?’
Charles seemed to have better control of his breathing now. ‘He went riding this morning, but his mount has returned without him. A search has begun, but as yet, there is no sign of him.’
Trying to suppress her panic, Rose turned to her father, but he was looking at Charles.
‘Is it known in which direction he rode?’
‘No; he did not—’
‘Yes!’
They both looked at Rose, who was struggling to keep her voice steady. ‘I saw him. He rode across the fields to the south of the house.’
‘Then we must instruct the search party to ride in that direction. Come, Miss Wallace.’ Charles held out his hand again, and Rose stepped forward to take it.
‘I… I am not an accomplished rider, sir.’
For a moment, the tense look on Charles’ face eased and he smiled. ‘But I am, ma’am. You shall be quite safe with me.’
Rose felt precariously far off the ground as her father helped her to perch sideways on a saddle designed for a man, and she was thankful he retained a hand on her arm as Charles swung up behind her. Pony trekking had at least been done in suitable clothing and not side-saddle!
‘Just hold on tight, Rosie, all will be well. Captain Austen may not have his brother’s reputation on a horse, but perhaps that is all to the good on this occasion.’ He turned to the captain. ‘I will fetch my mount and join you directly.’
‘Thank you. Onward, Arrow! Make haste!’ Charles set his horse in motion, and Rose tried to keep calm, though her anxiety for Aiden was making her heart beat fast in her breast.
‘To which brother did my father refer, Captain Austen?’
‘Hah! To Fly.’ Charles’ voice was close to her ear as he urged the horse into a canter, and Rose held onto the saddle with all her might.
She frowned, unsure if she’d heard correctly. ‘Fly?’
‘Frank, or Francis as he was christened. Quite the daredevil on horseback, skilled but reckless. I am more inclined to take my ease.’
With that, he kicked the horse on and, as they galloped along the road, taking the corner into the lane with hair-raising speed, Rose couldn’t help but let out a small shriek. If this was riding ‘at ease’, she had no desire to try anything wilder.
They drew to a halt before the house, and as a groom helped her dismount as carefully as she could, bearing in mind her attire, Jane hurried forward and took her arm to steady her.
‘Send a boy over towards Farringdon, Cartwright, and tell the men there to head southwards.’ Charles turned his mount and was off across the terraces, scaling the hedges on the far side and soon out of sight.
Rose was still leaning into Jane as they watched him go, unsure her legs would support her. What if they never found him? What if he’d fallen into a quarry, or was hidden by undergrowth?
‘Jane…’ All Rose’s fears and anxieties were communicated in just one word, and the lady at her side seemed to understand, taking her hand and pressing it before urging her towards the stone steps into the house.
‘Come, Rose. You must take a little wine to calm you. They will find the gentleman, I am certain.’
Rose shook her head, standing her ground. ‘I can’t! I want to wait here.’ Her gaze was drawn in the direction she’d seen Aiden ride that morning, the same direction Charles had just gone.
‘Then I will leave you to your vigil for now.’ Jane patted her arm reassuringly as she released it. ‘The search party will need sustenance on their return, and I must speak with the housekeeper.’ She touched Rose’s arm again, and reluctantly she dragged her gaze away from the fields. ‘Do not despair. He will be found.’
Rose turned back to scan the fields as Jane entered the house, her arms hugging her waist. Her breathing was shallow, her heart thumping painfully in her chest and her throat felt tight with emotion. She was consumed by memories of the past week; memories now tinged bittersweet. They felt so real, they swamped her senses, and she closed her eyes and whispered Aiden’s name, as if it might summon him to her.
The sound of hooves pounding the gravel drive roused her, and she opened her eyes in hope only to see her father, riding at breakneck speed, barely sparing her a glance before he too scaled the hedges and was gone from view.
‘Keep him safe,’ whispered Rose under her breath. ‘Keep them both safe for me.’
She began to pace to and fro on the gravel sweep, her shawl wrapped tightly about her shoulders, and she shivered, though the day had grown no cooler, oblivious now to the discomfort of her unfamiliar shoes. How long she paced, she did not know, but suddenly a shout tore through the silence, and then another.
Rose’s heart began to beat so fiercely it almost hurt, and she strained her eyes, then hurried up the stone steps to gain a higher perspective. There was movement in the far field, the sound of hooves, and then the man she recognised as Edward Knight’s groom came flying over the hedge on his mount.
‘Where is Miss Austen?’
‘I am here.’ Jane hurried out of the open door. ‘What news?’
‘Ma’am.’ The groom docked his hat. ‘Mr Knight requests you arrange for Mr Lyford to be sent for. This instant!’
Rose gripped Jane’s arm tightly. ‘Please tell me Mr Lyford is not the undertaker.’
Despite the tense atmosphere, Jane smiled faintly. ‘He is the doctor. It means Mr Trevellyan is found but is in need of some attention beyond an apothecary’s talents. Mr Lyford is a doctor in Winchester.’
Jane disappeared back inside the house, and Rose, torn between relief there was some news and fear over why they needed a doctor, resumed her pacing just as a young servant came hurrying out of a side entrance. He sped past Rose, a note clutched i
n his hand as he ran towards the stables, and she turned to watch him but suddenly her gaze was drawn to the sight of three horsemen moving slowly along the main road.
It was impossible to distinguish who they were, but two of the riders set off at a canter and soon appeared near the church, where they drew their mounts to a halt. She recognised Edward and Charles, and eventually the last horse came into sight, going much more slowly now, with two figures on his back. It was her father, holding onto Aiden, who lolled in front of him like some sort of rag doll.
‘I must prepare somewhere for him to be tended.’
With a start, Rose looked around. Jane had come to stand beside her.
‘He is hurt. Oh, Jane, what’s wrong with him?’
‘My eyesight will not permit me a diagnosis at this distance.’ She smiled faintly. ‘Forgive me; I do not mean to make light of it. Excuse me.’ She hurried back up the steps, and Rose stood motionless for a moment. Then her legs began to move, at first slowly, before breaking into a run as fast as her skirts would allow, and she tore down the drive, meeting Edward and Charles at the bottom of the slope.
‘Do not be alarmed, Miss Wallace. He is found.’
‘But he is injured!’ Her frantic gaze was drawn to her father’s slow progress towards them. ‘How…? Is it—? How serious is it?’
‘He was not conscious when he was discovered, but is now. His injuries do not seem beyond remedy. We had to take the long way round, of course. It was no time for putting him through the enhanced pain of jumping fences.’
Charles clicked his tongue at his mount, setting it forward again. ‘Oh, and be not alarmed by the blood on his clothes. His wounds are secure for the present.’
Edward raised his hat to Rose. ‘Curtis, our Alton apothecary, will also be summoned, Miss Wallace. Though it looks to be beyond his talents, he may be able to assist Lyford.’
He followed his brother, and Rose turned to watch her father steering his mount slowly along. As he came closer, she could see his reassuring smile, but the sight of Aiden, leaning back against him now, pale as can be, one arm strapped across his chest and dark staining on his clothes was enough to distress her.
As they drew nearer, she reached up and touched her father’s arm, too scared to place it on Aiden for fear of hurting him.
‘Run along, Rosie. Go up to the house. We shall be with you directly; there is naught you can do here.’
Reluctantly, she turned on her heel and hurried as fast she could back to the house. By the time her father arrived with his charge, there were several male servants waiting to assist with Aiden’s removal from the horse and into the house.
Jane had returned and was listening to Charles, who spoke quietly to her before telling the servants where to take Aiden. He had slumped forward again as they eased him from the horse, emitting a groan of pain, and Rose’s hand shot to her throat as they laid him as gently as they could on a makeshift stretcher.
She could see his brown curls, the side of his face, pinched and streaked with dirt and blood, and had Jane not come to stand beside her, firmly gripping her arm, Rose would have pushed them all aside to get to him, to tell him she was there for him, no matter what.
As they lifted the stretcher, however, he turned his head slightly and she caught his eye. A faint smile touched his mouth, but his eyes then closed and he was carried into the house, and at Jane’s urging, the ladies followed them in.
Under Jane’s instruction, they placed him in a small room off the entrance hall, and as the door closed on them, Rose drew in a deep breath. Would she be allowed to see him? Speak to him? The housekeeper brushed past them, followed by a maid bearing a pitcher of water and some strips of linen, and they entered the room, sounds drifting out through the slightly open door.
‘On my count of three: one, two, three.’
There was a sound of movement followed by a loud groan from Aiden, and Rose took an involuntary step towards the door before Jane held her back.
‘We must wait. You shall see him directly.’
The male servants trooped from the room, followed by the maid and, shortly afterwards, the housekeeper, who beckoned Jane to her side to speak to her. Rose didn’t care what they were talking about. She had to see Aiden, talk to him. Edging towards the door, which was still ajar, she threw a quick glance at Jane and the housekeeper before slipping into the room.
‘Rose!’ Her father spoke quietly and got up from where he was seated beside Aiden. ‘You should not be here.’
‘Yes, I should. Where else would I be?’
He held her gaze for a second, then nodded. ‘You may have as long as it takes me to retrieve some brandy.’
The door closed behind her father, and Rose tried to school her face into calmness as she knelt beside Aiden. His eyes were closed, and he was even paler, though she suspected that was from the pain. Now his coat had been cut from him, the amount of blood on his once white shirt was apparent, though mainly soaking his sleeve. He was propped up against some cushions, his damaged arm still strapped across his chest, but his position looked awkward, as if he were lopsided. His face had been cleaned up and did not appear to have suffered beyond some surface cuts, though it would probably bruise later.
Rose felt the sting of tears and forced her eyes wide to prevent them. Where was Hermione Granger with her bottle of dittany when you needed her? She held her breath as Aiden’s eyes opened.
He said nothing, but lifted his good arm as though he would take her hand, but the movement caused him to gasp, and he dropped it to his side.
‘Keep still.’ Rose edged a little closer. ‘What happened?’
‘May have overestimated my skill as a horseman.’ His voice was hoarse, and Rose looked around.
‘Do you want something to drink?’
‘Water,’ he rasped. Then, he let out a small laugh followed by a gasp of pain. ‘Sorry. I know I can’t, but that’s what I’d most like.’
‘I’ll buy you a crate of bottled water as soon as we’re back home.’
Aiden eyed her speculatively. ‘I’d like to hold you to that.’
Did he doubt her resolution to leave the past – and her father – behind? She pushed the thought aside. Rose would never willingly separate herself from Aiden, not when he looked at her as he did now. Especially after the excruciating minutes of fear she’d just experienced, not knowing what had happened to him.
Her gaze was drawn back to the bloodied sleeve. There was a makeshift tie bound around his arm, but she knew what the amount of blood might mean. ‘Is it broken?’
The lids had dropped over Aiden’s eyes again, and he drew in a shallow breath then nodded. ‘Not compound, thankfully. I’m also thankful I was out for the count when they found me.’
‘But the blood…’
‘Fell against some rocks.’ He drew in a short breath. ‘One particularly ragged one cut my arm open. The gash isn’t a pretty sight, according to the captain.’
Fear gripped Rose. What if his open wounds became infected? There were no antiseptic creams, no antibiotics here…
‘We have to get you back.’ Her voice was tight with emotion and Aiden opened his eyes, though he clearly did so with difficulty.
‘Rose, I need you to stay calm. I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind a good old-fashioned X-ray to guide whoever is in charge of my care, but I’m not going to be the first person who broke a bone in the early nineteenth century. They have plenty of experience and knowledge, just not the medical back-up we are used to.’
‘Like anaesthetic.’
Aiden’s lids dropped again. ‘It’s a good job I like brandy.’
Rose couldn’t bear to think of the pain he was about to endure and she caught her lip between her teeth. Why had this had to happen now?
‘We must get Jane to take you back.’
Aiden gave an almost imperceptible nod and Rose looked around as the door opened and Christopher came into the room.
‘Do you have any of your potions? Anything t
hat might help? You said you healed people in Gibraltar.’
Christopher took Rose’s hands, his face serious. ‘Let the doctor tend him, Rosie. The lotions I have at my disposal here are for the small scrapes and spills my children earned over the years. I fear this is too large a wound for them to be of any benefit.’ He held her gaze steadily. ‘You know the answer to this.’
Rose drew in a short breath, her throat gripped with emotion. Aiden must go home and without delay. But what about Rose?
Chapter 20
Rose started as the door was pushed open again.
‘Here we are, with medicine to dull the senses. The apothecary will be here directly.’
Jane carried a tray with a decanter of brandy and a glass, looking no more rattled than if it had been an afternoon tea with guests as she placed the tray on a side table and stepped back.
‘If you would be so kind, sir.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Christopher stepped forward and filled a glass. ‘This may not put your friend out of consciousness directly, but it will aid to dull his pain.’
Rose frowned. ‘I don’t think people with concussion are supposed to drink alcohol.’
Aiden’s eyes remained closed, but he drew in another shallow breath. ‘I’ll risk just about anything to take the edge off this pain.’
Rose turned to her father. ‘May I? Please?’ She pointed at the glass in his hand, and he hesitated, cast a glance at Jane, then handed it to Rose.
‘A little at a time, Rosie.’
Rose knelt carefully at Aiden’s side again. ‘Come, take your medicine like a good boy.’
His lips twitched, and he opened his eyes. ‘Very motherly.’
Rose blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice as he tried to support himself on his good arm.
‘You’re going to have to help me, I’m afraid. I can’t lift my arm without falling back again.’
Carefully, Rose lifted the glass to his lips and he took a mouthful, then grimaced as he swallowed.
‘Go slow, now.’
Aiden looked at her through pain-filled eyes. ‘Don’t worry so.’
The Unexpected Past of Miss Jane Austen Page 18