How to Catch an Earl with Ten Lies: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Patricia Haverton

  Meanwhile, Mr. Nour was examining when the knife had gone in. “Scissors,” he called out. “Are there scissors?”

  “I’ll fetch them,” Brigette promised from somewhere in the room. Quick footsteps fled down the corridor.

  “Footmen…someone go with her!” Lady Agatha commanded. “We do not want her to be harmed should that fiend be lurking in the house.”

  “Long gone by now, no doubt,” Captain Lascar said. But two of the footmen who had been hanging about hurried after Brigette.

  “Now, then,” Mr. Nour said to Penelope, “You do not look missish, and I need some help.”

  “Of course,” Penelope replied, steadying. “What can I do?”

  “I’ll pack these napkins around the knife, then I need for you to keep pressure on both sides of the wound as I draw out the knife. It is going to bleed more when we remove it.

  “Mr. Alfred,” Nour continued, “When the knife comes out, I’m going to roll him up on his side, so we can pad the back of the wound, and put some pressure on both sides. We must stop the bleeding as soon as we can. As soon as those scissors get here, we’ll have him out of this coat, and his shirt, and we’ll be better able to see how badly he is wounded.”

  The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Brigette was back with the scissors. There was some commotion in the room, and several people left, but Penelope’s attention was fixed completely on Benjamin.

  “There we are, there we are now,” Mr. Nour said, cutting the coat and shirt and pulling the fabric away so he could see. “Ah, good news. Very good news. The erstwhile friend had very bad aim, very bad. This looks a great deal worse than it is.”

  With Penelope and Alfred holding the folded napkins in place, Mr. Nour carefully withdrew the carving knife, revealing a wide mouth of a wound in front, and a much smaller one at the back. “Yes, he will do well, if we can prevent infection. The knife is smooth, no notches to tear the flesh, and it has missed vital organs. The scent of the wound is clean.”

  There was a collective sigh from all the gentlemen who had seen action in the recent war.

  A brazier was set up in the room. A breath of fresh air indicated that someone had opened a window to let the smoke out. Mrs. Albright, who seemed to know just what was needed, had maids running after things such as cotton sewing thread, needles, and soon had all the needed supplies cooking in a bubbling bowl of hot saltwater. Mr. Nour dipped a cloth into the water, cooled it, and gently bathed it.

  The salt in the wound must have stung, because Benjamin gasped and his eyes flew open.

  “Keep him steady, Miss Penelope,” Mr. Nour said, “I don’t believe we will need to stitch it, but we do need to pad and bind it when it is clean. The less he thrashes about, the better.”

  “Penelope?” Benjamin asked.

  “I’m here, Benjamin,” she said. “You need to be still so that Mr. Nour can bind up your wounds.”

  “Physician?” Benjamin asked.

  “Better than you will find in most parts of London,” Mrs. Albright said. “My poor, deceased husband brought him from Arabia where he was sold as a slave. I freed him when Mr. Albright passed on.”

  “That’s all right then,” Benjamin said. “London physicians want to bleed you. Already bled, damn Steelfrost’s eyes.”

  Mr. Nour chuckled softly. “Just you be still, lest you work yourself into a fever. Keep your eyes on Miss Penelope.”

  “Oh, I will certainly do that,” Benjamin said. “Do you mean it?”

  “That I love you? Of course, silly. It grew little bits at a time, all summer long.”

  “And I, you. Little bits at a time, all summer long. Need you, Penelope.”

  Penelope gulped down the lump in her throat. “I’m right here, Benjamin. I will be right here, as long as you need me.”

  Benjamin tried to lift his arm to reach for her, but Mr. Nour said, “None of that, now.” So he subsided. Penelope cradled his face in one hand, and brushed back his hair with the other. “I’m right here, and I love you,” she said.

  “Love you,” he replied, his eyes drifting closed again. Then he was out. Mr. Nour finished dressing his wound. Carefully he, Mr. Alfred, and four stocky maids eased a sheet beneath him. At some point while he was being treated, someone had brought in a servant’s cot and they gently lifted him up and laid him on the clean, well-padded surface.

  “I’ll stay the night,” said Mr. Nour. “He is not out of danger yet.”

  “Why don’t you all stay the night?” asked Lady Agatha. “The hour is quite advanced, and I am sure that I will feel much better with all of you about.”

  “I must get back to the school,” Mrs. Albright said. “I have students who are being tended by older students, which is never a good situation for very long. But I will leave the attendants I brought for the dinner party.”

  “Take an escort?” Mr. Nour almost pleaded.

  Mrs. Albright’s expression softened. “Of course. Thank you for reminding me.”

  In short order, people who were to go, went. People who were to stay were sorted out into beds. Edith went to attend to Lady Agatha, Alfred saw his father and cousin off at the door, after a few quiet words with his father, Captain Lascar, and Sir Bertram.

  Sir Bertram and Lady Elaine took Lord Castlemount to the main house, just in case one small cat was one cat too many.

  Penelope refused to leave Benjamin’s side. “I promised,” she told her uncle, tears brimming her eyes. “I promised I would be here.”

  A comfortable chair was brought for her and lined with blankets. A second cot was brought for Mr. Nour, and two maids were set to stay with them, both as chaperones and in case something might be needed.

  The night became quiet, and stilled into waiting. There was a tension to it, as if something still remained to be done.

  Chapter 54

  Lord Steelfrost fled from the little gatehouse. At last, he had a revenge of sorts. Gut wounds were insidious. Likely, he had just dealt Newhorn a death blow.

  But his own plans had also received a deathblow. How had that contract gotten stretched on the sails of dessert? An how had that miserable captain escaped?

  All was not yet lost. He had a ship in dock, all he had to do was make his way to it. Once away, he could send a messenger to the Prince Regent, all would be well. He was sure of it.

  But between him and the dock, there was a long cordon of men with their arms locked. Blocked! Where to go? He turned aside, slipping through the shadows into the park. He hurried around the green, the turned up the street toward the market.

  A whistle blast broke out. The watch! He turned, fell over the side of a cart, and found himself floundering in layers of fish that had been packed in seaweed, waiting for the market to open in the morning.

  More whistles blew. He scrambled out of the cart and fled back toward the gate house. He was trapped. The only way he would escape would be to take a hostage. And that house was full of them.

  Chapter 55

  When Penelope awoke, she had a stiff neck, her mouth felt dry, and it took her a minute to remember where she was. She sat up, and looked about her. Benjamin was sleeping quietly, his breath even and deep, with a faint dew of perspiration on his brow. Someone had cleared away the remains of the previous night’s feast.

  The table was push back against the wall where two open windows let in a faint breeze. A breakfast was spread there. Teapots under cozies, plates of biscuits, a glass dish of egg balls (probably left from the night before), savory dinner rolls and a plate of sliced meat under a glass dome.

  Penelope laid a hand on Benjamin’s forehead. It was a little warm, but no more than was to be expected on a late spring day in London.

  “You are awake,” said a deep, velvety voice.

  Mr. Nour stepped into the room, and approached the cot. “Sleeping well. Good.” He bent over Benjamin’s prone form, lifted the blankets on one side and checked bandages. “And no longer bleeding. We should be able to move him into a bedroom today,
which will greatly relieve the staff since this small house has only the one dining room.”

  Benjamin opened his eyes, probably in response to the voice. “Where am I?” He asked.

  “Lady Agatha’s dining room, My Lord,” Penelope said. “Do you remember what happened?”

  “There was a fight. Steelfrost stabbed me!” Benjamin started to struggle up from the bed and fell back with a groan.

  “You need to lie still for a day or two, Lord Newhorn,” Mr. Nour said. “Lord Steelfrost’s blade missed your vitals, but you still have a nasty flesh wound. It is fortunate that you are well-muscled and that he was only able to get in a glancing blow.”

  “It hurts as if a dragon were gnawing at my vitals.”

  “That would be the herb poultice,” Mr. Nour explained. “It is drawing out the poisons introduced by the knife and hastening healing. It is my hope that you will not experience any putrescence in the wound. Even so, you must be quiet and let the medicines work.”

  Benjamin tried to hitch himself up on his elbows. “Steelfrost . . . “

  “Both Alfred and Mr. Harrington as well as the Watch are looking for him. Sir Bertram, Captain Harrington, and Captain Lascar are also seeking him. My uncle has gone to the proper authorities to notify them that there is a problem in the peerage, and has taken the very interesting documents Alfred discovered,” Penelope put in.

  “When did you learn this?” Mr. Nour asked.

  “Around dawn, when Brigette came in to change Lord Newhorn’s bandages. I asked her where everyone was, and that was what she told me. Then she tsked and muttered, and went away.”

  “Yes, she does make an able nurse. You were asleep when I came in to administer a draft of willow bark tea to Lord Newhorn, so we were careful not to disturb you.”

  Benjamin worked his tongue around in his mouth and made a grunt of disgust. “Is that the vile taste in my mouth?”

  “No doubt,” said Mr. Nour. “You may have some tea if you wish, but on no account are you to drink wine or spirits.”

  “Where did you learn medicine, anyway?” Benjamin muttered in a surly tone.

  “Many places, including London. But my most important learning was in Juba, where there was a small school that claimed knowledge descent from Imhotep, himself.”

  “Where is Juba?” Penelope asked.

  “It is along the White Nile, in an area much sought after by many armies. I also studied for a time in Salamanca, so that I could learn the medicine as it is practiced in Europe. I was taken by slavers on my return home, sold several times, and finally purchased by Mr. Albright. It was not long before he learned that the drinks and soups I made helped him to feel better. So much better that he took a young wife.”

  Penelope clapped her hands. “Mrs. Albright.”

  Mr. Nour nodded. “Mrs. Albright it was. Sadly, not even the best of medicines can turn back the hands of time, although I believe she brought him much happiness. After she freed me, she offered me employment. I have been with her ever since.”

  “Juba, Juba…” Benjamin muttered. “Why does that seem so familiar? White Nile…I think my diamonds might come from somewhere up that way.”

  “Indeed they might,” Mr. Nour confirmed. “There have been mines not far from my homeland since ancient times. It is said that once my people traded with the ancient kings of Egypt, when the Pharaohs ruled. I have no personal knowledge of such things, since my interest was in herbs and plants.”

  “So why can’t I have wine?” Benjamin protested. “Or even a cup or two of Blue Ruin? I would sleep like a babe and feel no pain.”

  “And perhaps not wake up again. We do not want to put your body to sleep just now, My Lord. We want it awake and healing itself. Would you like a nice cup of tea? And I believe that the cook has some of my special chicken soup simmering in the kitchen.”

  Penelope laughed at Benjamin’s expression after this exchange. “Am I such a figure of fun as all that?” Benjamin protested.

  Penelope sobered at once. “Oh, dear, no. Benjamin, you must not think that at all. It is just you looked like a little boy deprived of treats. Shall I make the tea for you?”

  “No, no,” Benjamin reached for her. “I can’t believe that you are here. You must think me a complete cad after the way I treated your confession.”

  “How could I think such a thing? I know it is unpleasant to be lied to. Had not Edith been so afraid of you, I would never have even tried to deceive you.”

  “I am not sure why I frightened her so.”

  “Nor am I, for I find you perfectly amiable. But it might have had something to do with young Mr. Harrington.”

  Benjamin started to laugh, but it turned into a grunt of pain.

  “I’ll have the kitchen send up his soup,” Mr. Nour said. “And a special tea. It will help with the pain, but might make him sleep. Can you see to it that he drinks all of it? His man is here to see to his personal needs. Humphrey sent for him at first light.”

  “That was very well thought on,” Penelope said. “Yes, I can see that he eats and drinks. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll see to it.”

  “Penelope . . . it is Penelope, yes?” Benjamin asked.

  “Yes, I am Penelope Chapman, at your service Lord Newhorn,” Penelope said gravely.

  “A moment ago I was Benjamin.”

  “That was when you were an invalid. Now, you are a gentleman who is about to ask or tell me something important.”

  “A fine distinction. But I was going to ask if I could call you Penelope instead of Miss Chapman.”

  “Of course you may,” Penelope said, clasping her hands together on her knee and doing her best not to fidget.

  “And you must call me Benjamin. Penelope, can you give me your hands? I’d reach for them, but that poultice thing has just stopped gnawing at me, and I’d just as soon not start it up again.”

  Penelope had been longing to take the hand that was lying on the covers in both of hers, and now did just that. “We can’t start up the pain monster, that is for sure.”

  “Thank you,” Benjamin said, curling his fingers around the hand that she had slipped beneath his. “Penelope, is there any way I could talk you into becoming my wife? I know we’ve had a very awkward beginning, what with the name confusion and all, but I would very much like to wed the Miss Chapman who has been picnicking and riding out with me. I think we could do very well together . . .”

  “Yes, Benjamin,” she interrupted, blinking back tears. “Yes, I would very much like to be your wife.”

  “Thank you,” Benjamin said. “Because I love you, and I can’t imagine never riding together again.”

  Brigette brought in the soup and tea just then, and Penelope slowly, and lovingly, spooned every drop into his mouth, then held his hand until he fell asleep.

  Chapter 56

  When Benjamin next awoke, it was evening and shadows pooled in the corners of the dining room. Instead of Penelope, Simmons sat by his side.

  “There you are, My Lord,” he said. “Mr. Nour has said that after your bandages are changed that you may dress.”

  “Penelope?” Benjamin asked.

  “Gone to lie down in the parlor to get a little rest, Lord Newhorn. We had a great deal of difficulty persuading her to leave your side. But you will have people coming to see you shortly, and you will both want to be at your best.”

  Simmons helped Benjamin with a few necessary personal chores, then changed the bandages on his wound. He gave a low whistle when he saw it. “You are very fortunate, My Lord. Just a finger width more toward your middle and the knife would have nicked your intestines. It looks as if your belt deflected it.”

  “So Mr. Nour led me to believe.” Benjamin tried to peer at the wound, but the effort to twist and bend in that direction made pain shoot through his abdomen and induced a faint queasiness. “What does it look like?”

  “As if someone cut through the muscle on a deer, My Lord. It looks clean. No sign of swelling or redness. Never thought
to see a Moorish physician, but that Mr. Nour seems to understand proper medicine.”

  “Perhaps the two of you could study together,” Benjamin quipped.

  “Perhaps,” Simmons replied gravely, carefully laving the wound with the ointment Mr. Nour had left.

  Once the wound was properly bandaged, Simmons eased a nightshirt over his head, and then covered it with a quilted smoking jacket. “What is this?” Benjamin asked. “I thought I was going to be receiving people.”