"They are, my lord, and your man arrived a few minutes ago. He is in your room, as well."
"Thank you, Abbott." John climbed the stairs. Turning to the left, he made his way through the guest wing to a west facing room decorated in masculine shades of dark green. He opened the door to find his valet, Martin, unpacking his valise. The other man turned at the sound of the door.
"I'm sorry, my lord. Is there any news about Miss Dutton yet?"
"Not much," John told his trusted and longtime servant. "She is unconscious, but the doctor did offer hope. When he ran an instrument up her feet, one of them twitched ever so slightly. Dr. Saunders insists people who are permanently paralyzed normally do not display even the slightest movement of the affected limbs."
"Well, that is something to hold onto," the valet replied.
"If you have everything you need," John began, "I'm going to wander out to the stables. I want to check on Pirate and speak to the stable master."
"Of course. Lord and Lady Amhearst's staff is exemplary and always welcoming. If I need anything, I shall ask."
With Martin’s assurance, John left his room and then exited the house from the front door. The early fall air was most enjoyable; cooler than the oppressive heat of summer. Tree leaves were just beginning to shed their green and show a small amount of yellow in them. Flowers in the beds were looking a bit tired. Taking long, purposeful strides and calming deep breaths, John attempted to put aside his fear for Willa and focus on the tasks ahead. Whoever had cut the girth had meant her harm. Since it was her side saddle, the menace had been directed at her, not at anyone on the estate in general. John was sure the viscount had made, if not enemies, disgruntled acquaintances. After all, the man raised the best known stock in the equine industry. His horses fetched top dollar and won race after race. Competitions were his to command, which angered competitors.
At the stables, John walked through the open door past enclosures of livestock overlooking fenced green paddocks. He found Pirate in his stall with Brooks and another older man fussing over him.
"No lasting affects?" he enquired of the groom.
Both men raised their heads. "None I can see, my lord," the young groom assured John. "Far less than his mistress has experienced." His voice was filled with concern.
John squeezed his eyes shut for a moment against the vivid image of Willa lying twisted across the tree root. The knowledge of how close her head had come to the trunk of the tree sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his eyes and directed them to the older man. "You're the stable master, aren't you?"
"Yes, my lord. My name's Ward."
"Did Brooks tell you about the girth strap on Miss Dutton's saddle being cut?"
"He did, my lord. I have already spoken to all the men about it. No one claims to have any knowledge about what happened. I believe each should be questioned in private, though. 'Specially in light of the other incidents," the other man finished.
Chapter Two
"Pray tell, what other incidents do you mean?" John asked the stable master.
"There's been several times something has happened that is a bit fishy. Couple weeks ago, the viscount and Miss Willa were out riding, and the viscount got bucked off his horse. Didn't hurt him none 'cause he landed in the pond. Ruined a fine pair of boots, though."
"Hmm."
"One of the grooms was along and told me later in confidence he saw something fly out of a nearby bush and hit the horse in the flank."
"Did he say what it was?"
"He wasn't sure, my lord, but said it looked like nothin' more than a rock. It came out of the bush pretty hard, though. Like a slingshot might have been used." Ward stopped and chewed on his lower lip.
"Anything else?" John prompted the man to continue.
"Miss Willa's bridle was damaged. The tack boy caught it and showed me. The leather looked like it had been worn through, like mebbe someone had used a file."
"Was it just those two incidents?" John asked.
"No. There's more. Pirate was actin' skittish a few weeks back. That's unusual. I noticed it right away and wondered if he had gotten into something."
John thought about this a moment. "What do you mean by skittish?” he asked the older man.
"Pirate’s gait was off, and he twitched his legs. Fact is, he acted nervous," Ward replied. "I saw Miss Marty in the village the next day and spoke to her about it. She said it sounded like lupine.”
"Lupine," John said on an exhaled breath. "We once had a colt which got into lupine and acted the same way."
The stable master nodded. "There's lupine grows down by the pond but the horses aren't allowed to graze there. And usually, a horse won't eat poisonous plants. They seem to know better."
"Not if it's ground up and mixed with other feed, such as oats," John mused. "Who is Miss Marty?" he asked after a moment, remembering the name Ward had mentioned.
"She's the daughter of the Baron Townsend," Ward started. "Well, he's passed on, and her brother is the baron now. Anyways, Miss Marty has a way with animals, particularly farm animals."
"Interesting," John replied, surprised a woman would be known for her knowledge of farm animals, especially the daughter of a peer. "Did you tell the viscount of your misgivings, Ward?" he asked the stable master, returning to the problem at hand.
"I did. He was concerned about Pirate's behavior, but the horse worked it out of his system within a few days like Miss Marty told me he would. Otherwise, the master more or less dismissed the problems. You know how he is, though. He's a good and trusting man."
"That he is," John agreed. "He thinks the best of everyone."
Ward regarded him as though seeking direction. John spoke again. "I'm going to speak to Lord Amhearst about these incidents again. In the meantime, please be extra vigilant around the stables. If I can get permission from Lord Amhearst to do so, I'll start to speak to each of the men who work in the stables or has access to the horses."
"That'd be a good idea," Ward agreed. "If it comes from you, they might take it seriously, too. And I will keep an eye out on things."
John nodded and then began to walk back to the house.
****
Willa woke slowly. She became aware of the darkness in the room and lifted her eyelids. Her head ached and she had a dreadful pain in her back, slightly above her waist. As she squeezed her eyes shut against it, she concentrated on taking slow deep breaths to ease the hurt. It didn't help, and she realized she was sleeping on her back, which might have been the problem. Normally, she slept on one side or the other. Now, twisting her upper torso, she tried to roll over by swinging one leg over the other as usual.
Her leg wouldn't move! It just lay there, heavy against the mattress. Willa tried again, and it still would not move. The pain in her back increased. A sense of panic slipped in, overwhelming her, and she twisted her head from side to side before Molly leaned over her.
"Shh, Miss Willa. You've been injured. Try to lie still."
Willa stared at her dear maid. "Injured?"
"Yes, Miss. You were bucked off your horse."
"Please light a candle, Molly," Willa begged, trying to make sense of her maid's words. She waited until she heard the strike of the flint and a growing flame lit a circle of light near the bed. "Now, please tell me again."
"I will," Molly assured her, "but first I must let someone know to fetch the doctor. He wanted to be alerted as soon as you woke. There's a footman outside the door, so I'll only be a moment."
Willa watched as the maid walked to the door and spoke in hushed tones Willa was unable to make out. Then Molly returned to her side.
"You were bucked off your horse, Miss Willa. Brooks saw it happen and came back to fetch help. He said you landed hard on an exposed tree root."
Willa strained to remember anything of the incident. Her head ached enough to make concentration difficult. She had little time to think before her bedroom door swung open and her parents, followed by her fiancé stepped into the roo
m, all swathed in dressing gowns.
"Willa, darling," her mother said as she hurried to the bedside, "you're awake."
Willa's mouth was dry as she glanced from one to the other of the three people she loved most in the world. "Molly said Pirate bucked me off."
"It's true," her father said. "Brooks said a bird flew up and hit Pirate's belly just before you took the fence."
"Is Pirate okay?" she asked, worried about her beloved dark bay.
This time John stepped closer and reached for her hand in the dimness, squeezing it gently as he grasped it in his own. "Pirate is fine," he assured her. "Brooks and Ward have both been over him multiple times."
"I can't believe he unseated me," she replied. "He's been hit by birds in the past. Why last year, a duck reared out of the rushes and hit him in the lower left flank. Pirate jumped sideways at least three yards, and I stayed on him." As she spoke, she noticed her father open his mouth to speak, but John cleared his throat. John caught her father's eye, and he shook his head ever so slightly. Willa narrowed her eyes. What were they signaling to each other?
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Molly hurried to open it. She spoke again in hushed tones, and then turned back to the room. "Dr. Saunders has been sent for, my lords and lady."
"Thank you, Molly," the viscountess said. Blythe returned her attention to her daughter and reached out to stroke Willa's brunette hair out of her face. "What can we do to make you more comfortable, dear?"
"May I have something to drink?" she asked.
"Of course, whatever you want," came the reply.
"How about a nice cup of tea?" Molly suggested.
Willa nodded as her maid hurried away to once again speak to the footman in the hall. "Why can't I move my legs?" Willa asked her loved ones. "And why does my back hurt so?" She watched as her parents both shifted their eyes away from her. Next, she let her gaze land on John's face. He seemed uncomfortable but didn't look away. Love and concern showed in his blue eyes.
"It's too early to know," he told her as he took her hand and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the back of hers. "Dr. Saunders will be able to explain more when he arrives. How bad is the pain in your back?" he asked.
"It hurts, but is not unbearable," she answered.
"The doctor left laudanum for you," her mother told her. "However, he said he would rather you not use it until he has seen you, unless you are in much pain."
"No," Willa assured her. "I'll be okay. Mostly, I'm scared," she whispered. "I want to know why I can't move my legs." When the others remained quiet and looked away from her eyes, she grew more determined and more frightened. "Its paralysis, isn't it?"
"We can't know for sure," John told her. "The doctor will arrive soon, and we should leave your diagnosis up to him." The door opened and a footman stepped inside with a tea tray. "Ah, look," her fiancé said, "your tea has arrived."
Molly took the tray and set it on the bedside table. She poured the beverage into a delicate china cup before looking at Willa's mother. "Should I raise her head with more pillows?"
"I believe it would be acceptable," the viscountess replied.
John offered to help, and he carefully slid his hands under her head and shoulders, lifting them from the mattress as the maid put two more feather pillows beneath Willa's head. Molly handed her the cup of tea and hurried to light more candles. Willa took a sip of the hot liquid and savoured it. She pondered about what it would be like if she could never move her legs again. Trying to be an optimist, she spoke again.
"At least I can move my arms," she said. Willa held the cup and saucer in her left hand so she experimentally moved her right arm up into the air, over to the side, and then out in front of her. She switched the cup into her other hand and repeated the movement with her left arm. "I have a full range of motion," she stated with false bravado. Inside, though, she felt none of it.
She noticed her parents and John seemed uncomfortable. Her father fetched a chair for her mother and insisted she sit. Willa watched them, wanting them to fill the silence with chatter which would take her mind off her injury. Thinking about her legs, she tried to move them. Finally, to quit worrying, she asked about her horse once more. “You’re sure Pirate is not injured? You would tell me if he was, wouldn’t you?” Noticing a shrill edge of panic in her voice, Willa tried to calm herself.
John perched on the edge of the bed, took the cup and saucer from her hand and passed it to Molly. Then he grasped both of Willa’s hands in his. “Pirate is fine, although he seems to sense something is wrong. It is as if he knows you have been hurt and he feels at fault.”
A quiet knock sounded at the door at last and Molly rushed to open it, ushering in Dr. Saunders. "Well, Miss Willa, I am glad to see you are awake," the physician said.
Willa thought a moment about having been bucked off and then replied quietly, "Yes, I might have been killed, mightn't I?"
"It is true," the doctor said. "Many people aren't so lucky." He regarded those gathered in the room, "Why don't you all step into the hall, except for Molly, of course?"
They seemed hesitant, Willa thought, but finally her parents and John obeyed the doctor's suggestion.The doctor sat down his bag and asked Molly to pull back the covers before proceeding to tap each of her knee caps. Willa felt nothing. He took out a sharp instrument and ran it up the bottom of her bare right foot.
"That tickles!" Willa tried to jerk her foot away and couldn't.
"You felt it?" he asked her.
"I did and it tickled, but I tried to move my foot away from it, and I could not."
He repeated it on her left foot. Willa prepared herself for the same reaction, but it did not come.
"I assume you did not feel it this time?"
Willa shook her head, "No."
"Your right foot did twitch somewhat, although you did not feel you could move it. The tiny movement is a good sign."
The doctor proceeded to check her pulse and her breathing, inspected her eyes as he moved a candle back and forth in front of her face. He picked up her arms and rotated them. "Now, tell me where you are experiencing pain," he commanded.
"In my back, above my waist."
"Is it in the center, or to one side or the other?"
Willa closed her eyes and concentrated on her back pain. "A bit to the left of center," she answered.
"And you can't move your legs or feet no matter how hard you concentrate?"
Willa tried again, grimacing with concentrated effort. "No, Doctor, I cannot," she said, not trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.
"And does your head ache?"
"A bit," she admitted.
"You took an extremely serious fall," the man told her. "It's my understanding you landed hard on an exposed tree root. Lord Roydon said you were lying on the tree root at about the location your back hurts." He paused and then moved on with seeming determination. "I'll not mince words, Miss Willa. I believe your spine has been injured. The twitching in your foot and the sensation in your right lower limb give me hope you will someday walk again, but I cannot promise it. You may well be suffering from paralysis from the waist down for the rest of your life. I know it is terribly difficult, but I recommend you try to come to terms with the possibility."
Willa sighed and spoke her fears in a wavering voice. "I was afraid of that." She despised the tears which slipped unbidden down her cheeks.
"I will speak to your father about obtaining a Bath chair for you. Perhaps he could purchase one for each floor as you improve. A footman could carry you between stairs, and this wheeled chair will keep you from being confined to your room or even to the house. With a bit of ingenuity, all kinds of accommodations can be made for a Bath chair."
"I'm to get married this winter," she said.
"You might want to postpone your nuptials until you recover more," the doctor suggested. "It would not be wise to risk having a child at this time," he continued.
More tears slid down her cheek. "I understand,"
she murmured as an ache settled in her chest.
She watched through a film of moisture as the doctor tucked his instruments back into his bag. He picked the bag up and looked back at Willa. "Your maid has laudanum she can give you if you would like to take it to dull the pain. And I'll be back tomorrow to check on you."
"Molly," Willa called to her maid as the other young woman was escorting the doctor to the door, "please tell my parents and the earl I am tired and wish to be alone now."
"Yes, miss," Molly said, "but I will stay with you if you should need anything."
Willa wished to dismiss her but recognized how dependent she would now be on others. Why, she couldn't even use a chamber pot.
Chapter Three
John could have indulged himself by sleeping late, but the truth was he couldn't sleep. Worry over Willa had kept him awake. Memories of this past summer when John had traveled to London to take part in the season with his best friend, Noel Mallory, the Duke of Lamberton, filled his thoughts. Noel had immediately met Miss Claire Stuart who had captured his heart. Miss Stuart, had displayed some bizarre behavior owing to the secret of being blackmailed by Miss Regina Norton, a woman John's late father had wished for him to marry. Miss Norton, it was discovered, had blackmailed Miss Stuart into trying to capture John's hand in marriage so she might marry another. Yet even before the discovery of the blackmail plot, John had met Claire's cousin, Miss Willa Dutton. The two were thrown together often during the season at social events in their efforts to smooth the way for Noel and Claire. Upon meeting Willa, John had admired her spirit and beauty, and it didn't take long for admiration to become love.
John had never expected to make a love match, and he felt luckier than any man should be to know he would live the rest of his life with Willa at his side. Now their wedding was set for mere weeks away over the holidays. Claire and Noel had married a few weeks earlier and traveled to the continent to enjoy a lengthy honeymoon in Paris and Salzburg before returning to their palatial estate not far from John's own home.
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