by Beth Elliott
‘Beg you will grant me the honour of the next dance,’ he gasped, offering his arm. Sarah jumped up thankfully. He led her into the line that was forming. Still panting, he gave her a half comical look but she was too grateful for her escape to question anything. During the turn in the dance, she caught sight of Lord Percival watching her. The expression on his face was so unpleasant that she knew he would want revenge of some kind.
CHAPTER THIRTY
On the Sunday, two days after the ball, Sarah and Lizzie attended morning service at the abbey. When they came out of the church they found that the crowd had vanished. It was a bitterly cold day with a keen wind blowing. Most people hurried into the Pump Room, or disappeared into their carriages. Very few lingered in the open square. However, in spite of the straw and dust whipping up around them, Lizzie insisted on walking right round the abbey as far as the Parade Gardens, where she stood examining any person still lingering outside.
Sarah looked at her suspiciously. ‘Now what are you up to?’ When Lizzie gave her a stare of wide-eyed innocence, Sarah frowned. ‘I know these tricks of old. Surely you have not made an assignation with some young man?’
Lizzie tucked a gloved hand under Sarah’s arm. ‘Nothing so vulgar. I was merely expecting to see Richard. We had agreed to take a walk if the day was dry enough.’
‘But what about his brother?’ The question came out before she could stop herself. She cursed inwardly. It showed she was always thinking about him. ‘Come,’ she added hastily, ‘You cannot go for a walk in this chill wind. I am shivering already and my bonnet is threatening to blow away. Let us go into the Pump Room for shelter. Very likely you will find one or other of the Thatcham family in there.’
They did indeed find Sir Thomas in the entrance hall. It seemed he had been looking for them. After making his usual courteous and formal enquiries after their health, he announced, ‘My son has gone into the Pump Room. I believe he is looking for you, Miss Gardiner.’
‘Richard?’ asked Lizzie eagerly.
A shadow crossed Sir Thomas’s face. ‘No. He has remained at home. Gregory is in the Pump Room.’
‘Oh, but….’ Lizzie sounded put out. Her muff fell to the floor. When she rose from picking it up, her face was red. With a word of excuse, she curtsied to Sir Thomas and hurried away. Sarah watched in growing suspicion. Whatever Lizzie had planned with Richard, she was very upset at having her plans dashed.
Sir Thomas sighed as he watched her trip away. Sarah looked more closely. As always, she warmed to his old-fashioned charm and courtesy. In addition, he was so like his son in appearance. She knew that Greg would still make a handsome gentleman when he was older. Sir Thomas was still frowning into space. The lines on his face seemed more deeply carved this morning. His mouth was set in a grim line. Sarah wondered what could be troubling him. He seemed to have forgotten her presence so she cleared her throat. He started and turned his head towards her. She gave him a friendly smile. ‘I believe I heard that the gentlemen were going to a sparring match yesterday? Perhaps Richard is … indisposed after the event, sir?’
He gave her a long look from under his brows. Then he sighed again and his face relaxed slightly. ‘You must not be thinking that Richard drank too much at the event.’ He shook his head. The frown returned and he looked old and shaken. ‘Richard accepted a challenge to take part in the sparring. Afterwards, he was offered a drink of cider and it was very shortly after that that he became violently unwell.’
‘Do you mean he drank something contaminated?’
‘That is what he and his brother tried to make me believe.’ Sir Thomas looked at her almost in appeal. ‘But he has been so ill that I fear it was a deliberate attempt to poison him.’
Sarah was horrified. ‘But why would anyone do that? I cannot imagine that someone would want to harm him.’ Even as she spoke, a vision of Lord Percival’s angry face at the ball came to mind. She swallowed. Doubt shook her. Surely, even he would not go to such lengths as this? Sir Thomas was eyeing her narrowly.
‘It seems you have thought of something?’
Sarah schooled her face into a politely neutral expression. ‘I am simply shocked at the very idea. Pray tell me, sir, how is Richard now?’
His mouth twisted. ‘He is exhausted and in a great deal of pain.’
‘Let us hope he has purged himself of the poison. I will make a special tisane for him to drink if I can find the necessary plant. It is an old recipe my mother taught me, most effective at calming an irritated stomach.’ She smiled at him.
This time Sir Thomas managed to smile back. ‘Young lady, you have a sweet way with you. I am sure your remedy would help him. Thank you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And now, let us find the others.’
‘I had to bring him out,’ Greg confided to Sarah and Lizzie a short while later. They were all watching Sir Thomas as he strolled round the Pump Room in conversation with a couple of his friends. ‘He was so distressed to think that anyone would make an attempt to harm Richard, he could not settle to anything. A turn or two around the Pump Room will divert his mind.’
Sarah gave him a very direct look. ‘One is tempted to suppose that someone in Bath is not well disposed towards your family.’
Greg rolled his eyes. ‘Our family and many others. But I do not care to see my father so worried.’
‘So you went to the fair’ – Lizzie frowned – ‘and Richard had a bout of fisticuffs with one of the men there—’
‘Yes,’ nodded Greg, ‘He likes sparring. He fought several bouts. Afterwards, of course, he was thirsty. There was a man there offering cider from a leather jar. A rough fellow, in a green frieze jacket—’ He stopped and looked as Sarah gave an exclamation of surprise.
‘Oh! Good heavens!’ She clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘How many times I meant to tell you. It was a man in a green jacket who push—’
Greg stopped her with a raised hand. His eyes flickered to Lizzie and back. Sarah bit her lip and nodded. ‘And when Lizzie and Richard went out driving in your curricle, they twice nearly ran into a man in a cart. He was wearing a green jacket.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ cried Lizzie. ‘He was very coarse and rude to us but he was the one driving badly.’
Greg was looking very thoughtful. ‘I will see what I can discover,’ he said, ‘but meanwhile I want you young ladies to be careful as well.’
Lizzie’s eyes grew as round as saucers. ‘But why? We have done nothing.’
Greg smiled at her. ‘Ah, but you are friendly with us. And whoever is trying to hurt us might consider that you are therefore also his enemy.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
General Gardiner hobbled up the steps of the Thatchams’ home in Sydney Place. The coach driver had already knocked and a discreet servant was waiting to admit the visitors. When Sarah and Lizzie also got down from the carriage, the general noted a slight widening of the servant’s eyes.
‘No way to prevent them,’ he said by way of apology. ‘They insist they can be of help.’
The manservant looked even more aghast when Lizzie’s maid, Prue, also appeared and marched up the steps with the girls.
Sir Thomas rose from his armchair as the visitors entered his sitting-room. He also looked in some surprise at the girls. He spotted Prue, hovering in the doorway and his brow cleared. ‘I understand. You have come to prepare your medicines. You have wasted no time.’
Sarah nodded. ‘We have been successful in finding some blackberry leaves. Now I will brew them into a tisane.’ She smiled reassuringly at Sir Thomas. ‘You will find that it works very quickly to calm an irritated stomach.’
Lizzie laid down her bonnet on the nearest chair. ‘How is he now, sir?’
‘Sleeping, I believe.’ Sir Thomas was looking at Sarah. ‘But he refuses to swallow anything, even water.’
‘I assure you, he will like my mother’s tisane. And Prue here will make her special gruel. That will undo some of the damage that the poison has done.’
General Gardiner gave a chu
ckle. ‘Just let ’em get on with it, Tom. I assure you, once the females have made up their minds, there is no way to stop ’em. You and I will stay here while they do their good works in the kitchen.’
Sir Thomas threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. The manservant, wooden-faced, escorted the ladies out. As the door was closing, Sarah heard the general say, ‘Shocking business, what do you think is going on…?’
When they reached their own home again, Lizzie was in brighter spirits. Richard had drunk some of the tisane and Sir Thomas had promised that he would make sure his son swallowed Prue’s gruel later that day.
‘So we have helped, have we not, Uncle Charlie,’ she coaxed, seeing his frown. ‘And Sir Thomas has promised to send Greg to bring us news this evening.’
Sarah was thinking how much she liked the Thatcham household. Everything was neat and comfortable. There was a well-defined air of order and harmony. The servants evidently took pride in their work. A number of them came from the Chesneys estate, she had learned while they were in the kitchen preparing the potions for Richard. The butler had kept a close eye on the three intruders, but soon accepted that they were competent and their brews would be of benefit to the poor invalid.
The cook was a local woman, but she too was fond of the Thatcham family. She had whispered to Sarah that Mr Richard had been ‘mortal bad’ for many hours, shouting with pain. Sir Thomas had been beside himself.
General Gardiner looked more serious now than he had before his talk with Sir Thomas. ‘It seems there are as many rascals here as in London,’ he rumbled. ‘ ’Pon my soul, Lizzie, you were safer in Lisbon.’ He rested his chin on his hands, which were clutching the top of his walking stick. He stared at both of them for a while. They stopped what they were doing and waited, surprised at his solemn air.
At length he raised his chin and sat up very straight. ‘I want you girls to promise me you will keep to the main streets of the town.’
‘Do you really think we are a target?’ asked Sarah.
He raised his grey brows and shook his head slowly. ‘I will not take any risks. I have given you both your freedom – yes, yes, I know you are sensible,’ he added as Lizzie opened her mouth to protest, ‘but whatever is going on, it is very serious. I cannot allow anything to happen to either of you.’ He gave Sarah a fatherly smile as well. It made her eyes smart with sudden tears. James had shown not the slightest interest in caring for her welfare.
‘If you are really worried, Uncle Charlie, we could take Prue with us when we go out alone.’
Her uncle chuckled at that. ‘Well, Prue might at least prevent you from buying so many hats and shawls and I know not what. That would be one thing less to worry about.’ His face became serious again. ‘What I am really thinking of is to hire a manservant to accompany you.’
‘But if you hire someone from an agency here, he could be in league with the plotters as well,’ pointed out Sarah.
The general looked unhappy at that. Then his face cleared. ‘I shall ask young Thatcham. And now, Lizzie, do you know where I left my spectacles? Time for a quiet sit down with the paper.’
When Greg was shown into the sitting-room that evening, three heads swivelled to look at him. He smiled at them all. ‘Better news,’ he announced. ‘Richard has eaten the gruel and is sitting up, looking much more like himself.’ He came to take the seat General Gardiner indicated. ‘My father especially requested me to thank you all for your kindness today.’
‘So Richard really is getting better?’ Lizzie still seemed worried. Greg nodded and she gave a little sigh of relief. The conversation became more light-hearted and General Gardiner regained his usual cheerful appearance.
Sarah was concentrating on her sewing while Greg and the general discussed measures to protect the girls. Lizzie perched on a stool by her uncle’s side and argued hotly that she could manage very well, particularly with Prue as an escort around the town. They had still not agreed when the tea tray was brought in.
While Lizzie arranged the tea things and fussed over her uncle, Sarah found that Greg had changed his seat for one nearer to hers. His back was half turned to the other two. ‘You mentioned a man in a green frieze jacket….’ He cast her an enquiring look.
She dropped the needle into her lap. She fished for it, her fingers suddenly clumsy. ‘Oh, yes. How could I forget for so long? I told you how I saw him run up and push you into that tilbury. I tried to follow him up Cheap Street but could not see him anywhere.’
‘That could have been dangerous for you,’ he interrupted, his brows meeting over his nose in a deep frown.
Sarah shrugged. ‘At the time it seemed important to catch him, if I could.’ She found the needle and pinned it into the corner of her work. ‘Then Lizzie mentioned seeing a bad-tempered man in a green jacket several times when she and Richard went for a drive in your curricle … and now you say it was a rough man in a green jacket who was at the fair.’
‘Hmm,’ Greg was frowning at the floor. ‘He does seem to appear a lot. I must ask Jenkins if he saw a man in a green coat when the curricle was tampered with.’
Sarah stared at him. ‘Do you mean there was yet another incident?’
Greg jerked his head up. ‘Oh, damn, I did not mean to tell you about that.’ He laid a hand lightly on her arm. ‘You will please keep that to yourself.’
There was a crease between her brows as she examined his face. At length, she nodded reluctantly. ‘But if this goes on, sooner or later something terrible will happen to you. It sends a chill down my spine to think of all these attempts to harm you. Do you think the poison was meant for you?’
He rubbed his chin. ‘I cannot tell. I would rather it had been me.’
Sarah thought again of Lord Percival’s outraged glare when Richard had cut him out at the dance. But she decided she was making too much of the incident. She gave a sigh and folded up her needlework.
‘I do not like to see you look so worried,’ came his voice.
Sarah looked up quickly. ‘It is a deeply unpleasant situation. When I think first of how badly you were hurt and now your brother’s condition, I cannot help being alarmed at what might happen next. And you mentioned yet another attempt.’
‘Well, we have survived so far. In fact I suspect that they are growing desperate to be rid of us – and that means we are frightening them.’ His eyes gleamed fiercely.
‘But why? What is the reason for such wicked behaviour?’
‘Yes,’ chimed in Lizzie, ‘Whatever can you have done, Greg?’
He turned and took the cup of tea she was offering. ‘Gentlemen’s business, Miss Lizzie. Pray do not try to understand.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Two days later, Sarah and Lizzie were putting on their bonnets before setting off for the Pump Room when they heard someone beat a loud tattoo on the front door. They had just time to set the bonnets down again before Richard walked into the sitting-room, his arms full of flowers. Behind him came Greg, looking splendid as usual, Sarah noticed, in buckskins, glossy boots and a claret-coloured jacket.
‘Oh, how wonderful,’ exclaimed Lizzie, clasping her hands, a delighted smile spreading over her vivid little face. ‘Now we know you are getting better.’
Richard was, in fact, still very pale and hollow-eyed but he gave her his usual lopsided grin as he handed her a beautiful bouquet of pink and white flowers. ‘Thanks for the help you gave me – both of you.’ He turned to Sarah, with the second bouquet. ‘Your brew certainly quelled that awful burning sensation.’
Lizzie buried her nose in the blooms and sniffed delicately. ‘Heavenly,’ she exclaimed. ‘How pretty they are.’ She examined Richard’s face intently. ‘Are you sure you are well enough to attend the concert this evening?’
He smiled at her warmly, ‘Of course I am. I do not want to miss another of our agreed outings.’
Sarah pricked up her ears. So they had planned something for last Sunday. Lizzie darted her a swift glance and had the grace to blush. But
she carried on talking to Richard, drawing him towards the window and making him sit down. Sarah watched them for a moment. They seemed to have plenty to tell each other. It seemed that Lizzie was keeping some secrets from her. But after all, she was doing the same, with her plans to become a teacher. And then there was the matter of that kiss….
She turned her head and found that Greg was gazing at her face – or, more precisely, at her mouth. But even as she felt the colour steal into her cheeks, she realized that he seemed to be deep in thought. Her cheeks grew hot but she kept her eyes steadily on him. Still he did not stir. Any moment now, the others were going to notice.
She lifted the bouquet to smell the scent and, as she moved, he gave a start, blinked at her, then raised his eyebrows in a quizzical look.
‘I beg your pardon, I was wool-gathering.’ He smiled such a warm smile that Sarah’s heart thudded against her ribs. She was sure he could hear it pounding. She cleared her throat to ease the sudden breathlessness. ‘It must be a great relief for Sir Thomas to see that Richard has recovered so quickly.’
A shadow passed over his face. ‘My father has found these last few days very difficult to endure, but yes, he is more cheerful today. And we all owe you a debt of gratitude for your prompt help.’
She shook her head. ‘It was the least I could do.’ She glanced at Richard again. ‘If I am not mistaken he is putting on a brave front. The effects are not over yet.’
Greg’s lips thinned. ‘It was a vicious and cowardly attack.’ His eyes flashed and for an instant she glimpsed the soldier, grim and hard in his desire to avenge this crime. Then he recollected himself and assumed a polite expression. ‘But what about you ladies? Is all well here?’
Sarah nodded. ‘General Gardiner has become very strict.’ She smiled as Greg raised his brows at that. ‘Indeed he has,’ she insisted. ‘He fears we may be at risk as well. Prue goes everywhere with us now.’