by Anne Ashley
He could not prevent a wry half-smile as he glanced at the pile of papers which had been restored to order, and returned to the corner of his desk. His darling wife, it seemed, had acquired something of a temper during their years apart. Not that he could blame her for behaving with less restraint than normal that morning, he reflected, striving to be fair. After all, she had only wished to be granted the opportunity to help her friend. And yet he had resorted to the most underhanded means to prevent her from doing so.
Thrusting impatient fingers through his hair, he rose from the chair and moved across to the window, feeling acutely ashamed of himself now. It wasn’t that he objected to Jenny becoming involved in her friend’s concerns. Nothing could be further from the truth! Serena Carstairs was a most likeable young woman, intelligent and charming. She most certainly didn’t deserve the cruel fate life was about to inflict on her.
Lord Simeon Sloane was an utter blackguard, totally unscrupulous and a menace to any decent woman. Which, in part, was precisely why he didn’t want Jennifer having any dealings with the disreputable Baron. But that, Julian was forced silently to concede, was by no means the sole reason for his reactions that morning. What had really disturbed him, had made him behave in a totally unreasonable fashion, was the very great fear that if once she had left Wroxam Park, she might choose not to return.
And yet had he not by his insensitive reactions given her more reason to leave? he couldn’t help asking himself, before he was disturbed by a faint scratch on the door, and turned to see Mary enter.
‘May I speak with you, my lord?’ She did not wait for a response, but closed the door and took a further step into the room. ‘I thought you should know that Miss Jenny has not returned from her ride.’
Dark brows snapped together. ‘Do you mean she’s been out in that storm? Why wasn’t I informed of this before!’
‘She’s been out since the morning, sir,’ Mary was not slow to enlighten him, despite his evident annoyance. ‘I’ve known Miss Jenny a deal longer than you have, sir. She’s best left alone on occasions.’ The defiant look faded from her eyes and was replaced by one of concern. ‘But I’ve never known her take this long to shrug off one of her black moods.’
Julian hardly waited for her to finish speaking before he stalked past into the hall, issuing orders which sent his servants into a flurry of activity. Guilt and worry weighed heavily on his mind, and his anxiety certainly didn’t lessen when his worst fears were confirmed by Patrick who verified that Jennifer had, indeed, taken Oriel, and that he himself had already ridden out during the storm, unsuccessfully searching for her across the west section of the estate.
‘But if you’ve no objection, sir, I’d like to keep you company. Two pairs of eyes are better than one. And I’ve changed my clothes and have a fresh mount ready saddled, so I’ll not keep you waiting.’
Julian didn’t object in the least and, after issuing instructions to the head groom to have the men search the southern pastures, headed out with the Irishman towards the eastern section of the estate.
‘Of course, she may have sought shelter from the rain with one of the neighbours,’ his lordship suggested, but Patrick swiftly dashed his hopes.
‘She would have sent word, sir. Besides, the rain stopped an hour since. Miss Jenny wouldn’t stay away, leaving folk back home worrying about her. And she’d never miss the time she spends in the afternoon with young Charles, if she could help it.’
This was disturbingly all too true. Julian knew that she never missed paying an afternoon visit to the schoolroom to speak with Mr Granger and discover what Charles had been learning that day. He refused to delude himself any longer.
‘You think she’s met with some accident…taken a tumble from her horse?’
‘I’m thinking she’s met with some accident, yes,’ Patrick concurred grimly. ‘It’s where that’s bothering me. I’ve already been over all her usual rides.’
‘In that case we’ll begin our search to the east in Ravens Wood.’
The instant Julian had made the suggestion that heartfelt memory, chillingly vivid, returned with a vengeance. He had never once ventured into that particular wooded area since the afternoon he and Melissa had set out to discover the whereabouts of the young truants. Apprehension gripped like a vice. What might he discover this time? he couldn’t help asking himself, as he turned his grey hunter on to the track which led to that infamous trysting place.
But, no, that was unfair, the voice of conscience was swift to remind him, crushing the sudden threat of anger. It had happened only once; he no longer doubted the truth of that. His Marchioness, as she had proved on numerous occasions in recent weeks, was one of the most innately honest people he had ever known.
With these charitable and reassuring thoughts in the forefront of his mind, Julian entered the cottage, and was surprised to discover that he experienced none of the virulent anger he had felt when he had stood on the threshold of the one-room dwelling all those years ago. After a cursory glance across at the box-bed, which no longer held pride of place directly opposite the door, but had been tucked away, rather insignificantly, in one corner, he concentrated on the footprints clearly visible on the dusty floor.
‘So, someone’s been here,’ he remarked. ‘And by the size of the prints I’d guess it was a woman.’
‘Perhaps Miss Jenny came here to shelter from the rain,’ Patrick suggested, but Julian, unable to suppress a crooked half-smile, shook his head.
‘Oh, no. She wouldn’t do that again,’ he responded with certainty. ‘She would be too concerned that lightning just might strike twice in the same place. No, it is much more likely that she came here in an attempt to lay a ghost to rest. But mine is already at peace, so I’ve no need to remain.’
Conscious that Irish blue eyes were regarding him with keen interest, Julian led the way back outside to the horses. ‘Wilburn Hall is only a short ride from here. We’ll call there next to see if anyone has seen her ladyship.’
As luck would have it they were spared the trouble. As they emerged from the wood, and turned onto the lane leading to Melissa’s home, they came upon an elderly man, walking in the direction of the village. Ordinarily his lordship would have passed without speaking, but something in the stranger’s demeanour caught his attention. The man seemed to be in something of a hurry, and appeared, also, faintly disturbed.
‘A word with you, my good man.’ He drew his mount alongside the stranger, who cast the grey a faintly wary look. ‘Have you by any chance seen a lady on a horse during your travels this day?’
‘Not seen no lady, sur. But seen a beast. Great black brute of a thing back yonder, rearing and stomping, and stopping honest folk using the footbridge. The gentry folk ought not to leave dangerous beasts to roam about to frighten honest folk. Why, I very nearly ended up in the stream!’
Julian didn’t wait to hear more grumbles, justified though they might have been. After one glance in Patrick’s direction, he urged his mount forward, leading the way to the bridge which he knew well.
As he turned into the gateway leading to the long meadow, he experienced a mixture of elation and despair. Oriel was there, just where the old man had said he’d seen him, hovering near the far side of the bridge and seeming in a high state of agitation. But where in the world was Jennifer?
‘Easy young fellow, easy,’ Patrick soothed, managing eventually to catch hold of Oriel’s reins. ‘You’re in a right taking, lad, ain’t you?’ He turned to Julian who, still mounted, was scanning the landscape with anxious eyes. ‘What beats me, sir, is why the lad stayed here. He’s none too fond of storms, and yet he remained out in the open.’
‘Possibly didn’t know where to run. Remember, he isn’t familiar with the—’ Julian broke off abruptly, as he caught sight of what appeared to be the hem of a woman’s skirt poking out from beneath the bridge. ‘Good Lord! She’s here!’
Patrick, still trying to soothe the disconcerted Oriel, watched his lordship dart nimbly d
own the slight bank, and return a few moments later carrying his wife, limp and dishevelled, in his arms. As his lordship laid her gently on the damp grass, Patrick could clearly see the livid bruise on her forehead, the only trace of colour in the lovely, ashen face, and could hardly bring himself to ask, but forced the words past suddenly parched lips as he watched his lordship raise his head, after placing his ear against his wife’s chest.
‘Yes, Patrick, she’s alive.’ There was not a trace of emotion in the deep, refined voice, but the look in his eyes, as he turned them towards the groom, betrayed clearly enough his emotional state. ‘Go back and collect the carriage, and inform Slocombe what has happened. He’ll know what to do.’
Although Jennifer didn’t regain consciousness during the time his lordship remained with her waiting for the carriage, nor when he carried her, swathed in fur rugs, up to her room to leave her in the capable hands of Mary and his housekeeper, his anxiety of mind was marginally relieved by the prompt arrival of the doctor.
Julian considered Dr Arnold a credit to his profession. He was an immensely experienced man who had spent several years out in the Peninsula caring for Wellington’s troops, before retiring from the army and setting up a practice in the West Country. He had earned himself the reputation of being extremely thorough, a practitioner who always took considerable time over his examination. Consequently, after changing out of his soiled clothes, Julian went down to his library to await the results.
There were letters still requiring his attention on the desk, but he didn’t attempt to resume any work. Instead, he tried to relieve his anxiety of mind by sampling the contents of the brandy decanter. Needless to say the remedy did not work, but he was prepared to persevere, and was on the point of pouring himself a second glass, when the door opened and the doctor came striding purposefully into the room.
His grave expression did nothing to improve Julian’s state, but with praiseworthy self-control he resisted plying the doctor with questions until he had furnished him with a glass of the amber liquid, and they were both seated comfortably on opposite sides of the hearth.
‘By your expression, Doctor, I can only assume that my wife’s condition is indeed serious.’
‘As you are fully aware, my lord, she’s had a nasty fall. But apart from the blow to her head, which she tells me she received when she fell against the bridge, she has sustained no other serious injury, a few bruises, nothing more.’
‘She has regained consciousness?’ The relief was almost more than Julian could bear. ‘And she seemed lucid?’
‘Extremely so, my lord…unfortunately,’ the doctor assured him with a flash of wry humour. ‘At one point during my examination she comprehensively consigned me, together with all other members of my profession, to the devil. I don’t suppose for a moment that she will sustain any lasting damage from the accident. She has a severe headache, but that is only to be expected.’
He paused to fortify himself from the contents of his glass. ‘I’ve requested that young Irish woman to remain with her overnight. Seems an eminently capable female. I’ve given her instructions, and she knows to send for me at once if further complications should arise.’
Julian frowned, genuinely perplexed. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor, I do not perfectly understand your concern. Didn’t you just say that you considered my wife had sustained no serious injuries from the accident?’
‘I did,’ he concurred, his gaze suddenly intense. ‘But what does concern me, my lord, is why your wife should be displaying all the symptoms of having been poisoned.’
For perhaps the first time in his life his lordship was almost bereft of all power of speech ‘What! But—but…when? How?’
‘That has yet to be discovered, my lord. Although Lady Wroxam was definite about the details surrounding the accident, recalling quite clearly experiencing violent abdominal pains and a feeling of dizziness just prior to her fall, she was decidedly vague about what occurred shortly before. Only mentioned a ride in Ravens Wood, nothing more.’ Slightly stooping shoulders rose in a shrug. ‘It wasn’t the time to plague her with questions. She may recall precisely what befell her in a day or two. Or it is quite possible she may never remember. The mind, you see, can be most accommodating on occasions.’
His lordship was suddenly very alert. ‘What do you mean, precisely?’
‘There were many atrocities committed on both sides during the war with France, my lord. A great many men saw and took part in certain actions they would rather forget. I’ve come across cases where experiences were so traumatic that the people involved cannot recall even the remotest detail.’
Once again he fortified himself from the contents of his glass. ‘I remember a case years ago, when I first went into practice, of a young woman who was violated, severely beaten, and left for dead. When she regained consciousness she remembered nothing about the incident at all. Perhaps it was just as well. The mind, you see, sometimes protects.’
‘So what you’re saying, in effect, is that it’s possible for a person genuinely not to remember something that happened on a certain occasion?’ his lordship enquired, his mind momentarily locked in the distant past.
‘Certainly, my lord. Most especially if the person suffered some sort of trauma. But I don’t envisage this will be the outcome in your wife’s case. She has certainly suffered an ordeal, and received a nasty blow to the head. But she’s young and strong, and will recover fully, I’m sure.’
The doctor’s optimism was undeniably heartening, but it didn’t prevent Julian from paying several visits to his wife’s bedchamber during the evening; and that night, after collecting a book from his library, he went to the bedchamber once again.
Mary, seated in the chair by the bed, quietly plying her needle, glanced over her shoulder as the door opened, a look akin to approval flickering for a moment in her eyes when she saw who had entered.
‘She has not been sick again,’ she assured him, ‘and has been soundly asleep for the past two hours. Sleep is the best thing for her.’
‘And you could do with getting some yourself. I’ll take over.’
‘Oh, but—’
‘Do as I say, Mary,’ his lordship ordered, quiet but determined. ‘I need you to remain vigilant tomorrow. I want you and that young maid her ladyship seems particularly fond of to take it in turns to sit with her until she has fully recovered. With the exception of Charles and myself, you are to ensure that no one enters this room. And I want you, personally, to collect all her meals from the kitchen.’
‘I’ll do as you say, of course.’ Mary raised troubled eyes to his. ‘All the servants here seem devoted to her. It’s hard to imagine that any one of them might…’
‘I don’t think it, Mary,’ he assured her. ‘My wife consumed nothing at breakfast that I did not sample myself. But I’m not prepared to take any chances until I have discovered how the poison was administered, and whether it was done with malice aforethought.’
He moved silently over to the bed, and stared for a moment at the silky swathe of dark red hair stretching across the pillow, before focusing his attention on the delicate cheekbones, which earlier had glowed a bright crimson when she had been feverish. She appeared better now, and her breathing was certainly more regular.
He managed a semblance of a smile. ‘I cannot blame Oriel for this. We can be fairly certain that he wasn’t responsible for her fall. I’ve at least been spared the torment of deciding whether to put a bullet through his brain.’
Mary gaped up at him in astonishment, as though she feared that the strain of the past hours had been too much for him, and that he had taken leave of his senses. ‘Oh, dear Lord! Don’t even think of doing such a thing, sir…ever! Even if the big lad had been responsible, Miss Jenny would never have blamed him.’
Gathering together her sewing, Mary went across to the door. ‘It isn’t my place to say this, sir, but I’ll give you some advice, all the same.’ She held his full attention. ‘I’ve known Miss Jenny a good many
years. And it’s my belief that she’ll forgive you most anything in time. But she’d never forgive you, no, not even at her last breath, if you ever harmed that big lad of hers… Either of her boys, come to that.’
Julian watched the door close quietly behind her before turning once again to the figure in the bed, reflecting as he did so that less than six months ago he would never have permitted a person of Mary’s station to offer advice, let alone pay her the common courtesy of listening to what she had to say. His wife’s unexpected reappearance in the polite world had certainly given rise to many changes, not least of which had been changes in his own attitude to many things.
What a rarity the woman he had married had turned out to be! The surface trappings of lovely femininity concealing an iron will and determined spirit. That much he had discovered during their weeks together. He knew also that she didn’t bestow her affections unwarily, but her love once given was intense, and her loyalty unbending. If Mary was right, and he did one day manage to rekindle his wife’s tender regard, he would take great care never to risk losing it again.
The slender fingers resting on the pillow moved slightly, drawing his attention, and a moment later eyes flickered open. ‘I’m thirsty, Mary.’
He only just managed to catch the words, so softly did she speak, and the look in her eyes as she gazed up at him seemed puzzled, as though she were having difficulty in bringing his features into focus.
Seating himself on the edge of the bed, he slid an arm beneath her shoulders, and gently raised her before placing the glass vessel to her lips.
‘Mary has returned to her own room to rest for a while,’ he informed her, once she had drunk her fill.
‘Julian?’ she queried, her voice uncertain.
‘Yes, it is I.’
‘You—you came back?’
He was momentarily startled, and more so when she seemed happy to rest her head against his chest. Evidently in her dreamlike state she was locked in the past, and he was happy to allow her to remain there.