“On all of us, I think. I find myself combining words like is and not and has and not.” She smiled. “I am glad to know he wants me to stay. He hasn’t put it into words.”
Simmons stared over her shoulder, his whiskey-brown eyes not meeting hers. “Though it’s not for me to say, I know that he loves you, mum. He just doesn’t trust love like some do. And I will be here to care for him as long as he needs it, so you have no worry that you will be saddled with that responsibility. I’ve spoken to Grady about continuing to help until Lord Blair is on his feet again, and he has agreed. Miss Annie also. So, you see, you have no reason to leave. My concern is, do you have a reason to remain?”
“I love him. I married him because he said he loves me. Those are all the reasons I need to remain.”
He regarded her with stoic precision. “Then you will go in to him now?”
“Someone has to tell Lizza about the death of her husband. I was on my way to do that. She heard all the commotion last evening, and Annie says she’s afraid to come out of her room. I must deal with that, then I’ll see Blair. Can you explain to him that I’ll be in later?”
Simmons nodded in assent and slipped back into the quiet study.
Rowena hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to Lizza’s room. She knocked discreetly. “It’s Rowena, Lizza. May I come in?”
Silence.
A louder knock prompted no response, so she opened the door enough to see into the room. The drapes were drawn against the winter sun, so only shadows were visible in the light from the fireplace flames. An unmoving form huddled on the bed.
“Lizza? Honey, it’s me. Rowena. Are you all right?”
The lump moved. A head poked out from under the covers. Uncombed brown hair tumbled around frightened features. “Is he here? Did he come for me?”
Filled with compassion, she went to the girl and put an arm around her thin shoulders that trembled uncontrollably.
“He’s gone. He won’t be back. You’re safe here.”
“Oh, yes, he will. He always comes back. He says he’s going, but he always comes back.”
“This time, he won’t. I’m afraid…well, I’m afraid he’s dead.”
“Dead?” Firelight glistened in her dark eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sure. I’m afraid he was shot.”
“Shot?”
The young woman was clearly confused, maybe even in shock. Rowena patted her. “Would you like me to leave?”
“No, please don’t. If I could see his body, maybe I’d believe you. It’s just that I’ve imagined him dead so many times. It’s never been true. Are you sure, truly sure?”
“Oh, yes, but I’m afraid you cannot see him. Grady has taken his body to Hays City to report the incident to the sheriff.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Together they rocked for a while in silence, then Lizza stopped. “Who killed him?”
“Oh, honey. Does it matter? All that matters is that he will not ever bother you again.”
Lizza burst into tears, sobbing so hard Rowena could scarcely keep a hold on her thin body.
“We grew up together. I loved him always. How could he do those things to me? What did I do that was so wrong?”
“You did nothing, Lizza. Nothing. Some men are violent, and feel they must show their strength by hitting someone smaller and weaker than they are. Don’t blame yourself for this. You get some rest, eat the breakfast Annie brought up. Then you must come down. Have you been shown the bell pull, here by your bed?”
Lizza glanced up as if seeing it for the first time, didn’t speak.
“Nellie would love to have your company. She will be sewing me a frock this afternoon. Do you sew?”
The girl shook her head miserably. “I never learned.”
“Well, then. Nellie would be the perfect teacher. Or you could sit at the table and assist Annie in readying tea. You wash up and put on those things we bought you at Chesshire’s. You’ll feel much better then.”
She moved the tray from the bedside table to the bed and urged her to eat. “Then you get some rest. I’ll send Annie up to sit with you, if you’d like.”
“No, no. I need to be alone. I can’t believe he’s dead. I loved him, you know. I really did, but he frightened me so. I never knew why he liked to hit me. I was bad, I guess.”
“No, you were not bad. Now, if you’re sure, I’ll leave you alone. If you need anything, just pull that and someone will come.”
“Thank you,” Lizza murmured, and rolled up into a ball under the covers, ignoring the tray.
Reluctantly, Rowena left and hurried downstairs to Blair’s study. She found him sitting in the wheelchair at the tall windows, reading a book. For a long moment she stood in the door studying him, her heart thumping with hope, or fear, or both. He would be all right. They would be all right. She just had to be patient.
“Come on in, Rowena,” he said when she cleared her throat.
“It’s good to see you up.” She went to him and stood at his side, daring to lay a hand on his shoulder.
“I want to talk to you.” He closed the book, laid it carefully on the side table, and she saw the title, The Woman in White.
She noted an empty glass and assumed he was drinking.
“Could you verify that I shot the man here last night? I am unable to tell what are dreams and what reality. I clearly remember hearing the shot, and then this morning seeing the blood on the carpet. Simmons would not tell me, said it didn’t matter, that the man deserved to die for what he had done, and he would face his God to atone. But it matters to me. Do not lie to me, please.”
She rose, but let him keep her hand in his. “Simmons is right. It doesn’t matter who shot him. But Barton Crouch is dead, and he came here to hurt Lizza, and threatened everyone’s safety. The sheriff will be out to talk to all of us, and it’s best you don’t remember and you tell him so. It was the morphine, and he will understand that. There should be no further trouble after we speak to him. Oh, and it would be best if we don’t mention Calder and Wilda’s presence.”
He nodded. “So, it was I who shot the ruffian?”
She nodded. “I’m so sorry, but you did what you had to do. You probably saved more than one life in doing so. Please don’t dwell on it.”
He stared out the window with a faraway look in his eyes, then changed the subject. “I won’t speak of Calder and Wilda’s presence. I do remember his being pardoned and ordered to leave Kansas. I’m so glad your sister came to see you. I know how you’ve suffered, not hearing from her all this time.” He bent and kissed the back of her hand.
For a long moment she stared down at his mop of black hair, shimmering with blue highlights in the morning sunlight. When he tilted his head to gaze up at her, she noticed gray flecking the sideburns. A love so intense it squeezed at her heart filled her.
“Blair, my dearest,” she said softly.
He jerked his head back to look at her, as if startled, then pulled his hand away. “I wish you would not do that.” A harsh tone that stabbed at her. He dropped her hand and angrily turned the chair so his back was to her. “Leave me now, I’m weary.”
Holding herself back ramrod straight, she started from the room. At the door, she stopped. “Shall I send Simmons?”
“No. Tell everyone to leave me be. Before you go, get me the morphine from the drawer there, if you don’t mind.”
“I’d be glad to—”
“No, dammit. Just go. I cannot do this. We cannot do this. Now go. Leave now.” He picked up the empty glass, threw it across the room into the fireplace. Glass shards tinkled onto the marble hearth.
It occurred to her that Blair had not smelled of whiskey. A random thought that came and went.
“If you need me for anything, please send Simmons and I will come. I promise you that. With all my heart.”
Disappointed at the turn of events, she slipped out the door and closed it softly. Tried to think only of the man who had
carried her in his arms and called her his dear heart. That man lived within the shell of the one she had just left, and she would not forget him. Not for one moment. Somehow she would see that he one day emerged forever free of his nightmares.
Blair slept not at all that night. Ragged corpses crowded the room, walked incessantly, and accused him of their deaths. For most of the night he argued with them. Unable to flee on horseback, he had no other choice but to meet them head-on and do battle. Alone.
Chapter Ten
“There is one thing about the west I could do without, and that’s their outdoor privy. What a stink, and the wind blows up your private parts and nearly freezing them shut.” Hysteria reigned after Rowena made this declaration.
She had joined the women of the household, to begin taking sewing instructions from Nellie. After much effort and pricking of her fingers, she managed to sew one panel for the frock Nellie was making for her.
“Now,” Nellie said, once she had finally pronounced Rowena’s work acceptable, “I can smell all the good food Annie is making, so let’s wash up for tea. Perhaps we could help Annie in the kitchen. I think Rowena might make a better cook than a seamstress.”
Rowena agreed, happy that at least Nellie could use her Christian name without the recently acquired title. All she’d ever learned to do at St. Ann’s was clean floors and windows and wash up after meals and pray on her knees for hours on end. How could she possibly now act like a titled lady?
Lizza replied, “Oh, I love to cook. And this kitchen is so much nicer than mine. Is there something more I could do to help?”
Annie gave Lizza a mixing task, and the girl immediately continued the conversation. It appeared once they got her to talking, she wouldn’t stop. “Maybe Rowena is meant to be the lady of leisure, who bosses around those who work under her. That’s what they say about the English who have come here. That they don’t know the meaning of work.”
Suddenly, she clapped a hand over her mouth and looked from Annie to Rowena. “Oh, I’m sorry. That sounded horrid, and I didn’t mean to insult you. I am happy to learn of your marriage to Lord Prescott.”
“Don’t worry, Lizza. What you say is close to the truth, especially for the landed and titled, but I fear we English are going to learn that living in the West won’t be nearly as luxurious as living in England, even for servants. Things are so different here.” She wasn’t ready to share her own past, so let it go with that.
In the kitchen, Annie and Nellie scurried around assembling meat pies and sweet scones for tea.
“What things are different?” Lizza asked.
Annie had put Rowena to work setting the table, while she and Lizza prepared the pies and scones.
“Besides the privy?” Rowena held her nose. “I don’t know how you bear them.”
Lizza giggled. “I have to admit I’m anxious to see this English Water Closet, but my father would have died before he would have defecated in the same house in which he ate and slept.”
Rowena roared with delight. “Oh, my.”
All three held their bellies and made so much noise Simmons came running to see what was up. “Lord Prescott sent me to see if one of you has been injured.”
Rowena stared at the tall, thin man in precise black attire, with every hair in place, his mouth held in a prim line. The perfect English servant. Acquiring the title of lady had caused her to think more of the English division of classes. Simmons would be considered of the lower class, most certainly, but instructed as to how to please royalty, at all cost to his own comfort.
“We are fine, Simmons. Just having some fun, something that has been missing in this house for a good long while, I should think. You could tell your master that, if you wish.”
Simmons sniffed, then his lips turned up at the corners just enough to show the tips of his white teeth. “I shall tell him that, Lady Rowena. Perhaps you could include him in on the fun. I’m sure it would do him good.”
“We’re just preparing tea. Why don’t you go fetch him? He can join us and get out of that stodgy old room of his. It’s beginning to smell of illness.” Rowena smiled at Simmons.
“Yes,” Lizza said boldly. “He can get some of the stink blowed off him.”
Nellie, Annie and Lizza collapsed once more, leaning on each other. When Annie could speak, she said, “I just love some of your sayings. I suppose that one was your father’s, as well.”
“I shall tell him so,” Simmons said stiffly and hurried off down the hall.
“My father’s, yes,” Lizza said. “He had many of them. He was raised in the hills of North Carolina, where I was born, and we came to Kansas when us kids were young. Six of us, there were. We lost two babies on the trek.”
“How sad,” Rowena said, laying another plate for Blair. She would be pleased to see him.
“Yes, it were. Mamma nearly grieved herself to death, but she came out of it when Poppa built the house for us and she found she was carrying another child. Women must be tough to endure this life out here, she always says. I tried to be tough, but Bart just made it too hard.” Lizza paused, floured hands clasped in front of her.
Annie touched her shoulder. “You did the best you could, honey. Believe me, you did. Your momma wouldn’t wanted you to put up with such as Bart Crouch handed out, that’s for certain.”
Rowena only half listened to the two, who appeared to be getting to know each other well. Her thoughts were on Blair. If he refused to join them for tea, she would go fetch him herself. One of her favorite Kansas words was fetch, it had such a stalwart sound, and she had begun to use it where it fit.
A few moments later, Simmons came briskly down the hallway alone. Rowena straightened her shoulders and went to meet him.
“His lordship says he is not hungry, and if he were he would have a tray brought in.”
“Oh, he did, did he? We’ll see about that.”
“Lady Rowena, I would not do that if I were…”
His words died away behind her as she hurried through the long hallway to Blair’s domicile. It was time he came out of there and started living in the world, and she would not take no for an answer.
Even as she opened the door to his study, feminine laughter tumbled along behind, bouncing off the walls in echoes of gaiety.
He sat in the chair at the window, head leaned back and eyes closed. Sleeping. She padded across the room, hating to awaken him. Still, he needed to begin to heal not only in body but in mind, and he could not do that locked up in here reading and sleeping.
When she stood next to him, she couldn’t help herself. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. He murmured something.
“Blair?” She touched his shoulder.
“Hmmmf? What?”
“Time for tea. I’ll just take you to the kitchen where you can join all the frivolity.”
“Who says I want to join any frivolity?”
She looked all around, as if searching for someone in the room. “I guess it’s me says so. Come on. Annie has made meat pies and some scones that smell so good. Cinnamon and sugar. Washed down with hot tea. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yes, by God. I told Simmons to bring me a tray.”
She did not remind him that he had told Simmons he was not hungry. “Well, I told him not to. That I was going to deliver my husband to the kitchen. We’ll all eat together. Royalty and peasants alike.” She took hold of the high back of the wheel chair, swiveled it, and headed it for the door.
“Rowena,” he said. “What has gotten into you?”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot. You’d better wash up first. Do you have fresh water?” She pushed him to the bowl and pitcher behind the screen, poured water, handed him a bar of soap, and waited, towel at the ready.
Hand holding the soap, he stared at her.
“Do I have to do that for you?”
“Rowena, what in the hell is going on?”
“You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been with three young women all morning who know how to enjoy
life. I’d almost forgotten myself until they showed me how much fun it is. Now wash your hands and come join us.”
She twirled a finger through his hair. “Comb that hair, and don’t look at me like that.”
Without thought or warning, she leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth, then pulled away before he could respond. “That’s just a taste, your lordship, of what awaits you later. But first, let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
Muttering something about her taking advantage of his helplessness, he washed his hands and allowed her to brush his hair.
It was long and thick in her hands, and when she’d finished the job, she tilted his chin up to take a look. His dark eyes studied her, and for an instant flashed something lively.
“Lizza says you need the stink blowed off you,” she told him while pushing him across the floor. “I say you could use a haircut.”
“She does, does she?” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. And about that haircut—”
“Hmm, gives me an idea. After we eat, why don’t we have some hot water brought in, and I can give you that haircut and then bathe you. If there’s any stink left that hasn’t been blowed off you, we can wash it off. Besides, it’ll be fun. You’ve heard of fun, haven’t you?”
“Good God almighty, woman. What’s gotten into you? What would Marguerite say?”
“Let’s not tell her. Besides, she has nothing to say about it. I am your wife.”
“Knowing her, she’ll find out. One way or another. And I doubt she will take that into consideration. Your being my wife, that is.” His tone lightened the more they chatted.
She shoved him into the kitchen and settled him near the plate she’d set earlier for him. “Brought a visitor, ladies, so be careful what you say.”
The women stared with open mouths.
Annie bobbed a curtsy. “Your lordship.”
Nellie mimicked her.
“Hello, Mr. Prescott,” Lizza echoed. “So good to have you join us for tea this fine day.”
“Fine day? It’s colder than a hod carrier’s balls.”
“Blair,” Rowena scolded. Everyone broke up, including his lordship.
****
Rowena's Hellion Page 17