The next day Dr. Saunders declared they needed to move Willa quite often. To prevent open bed sores, the maids were instructed to roll her over onto one side or the other at intermittent times of the day or night. Pillows could be used to prop her legs in the position. Footmen were instructed to lift her with care from the bed and into a comfortable chair with arms so she might spend part of the day sitting. John requested a pair of matching arm chairs be moved next to the window overlooking the gardens at the back of the house. There, the two of them could sit and talk.
Willa had appreciated the change of scene, however, she still worried over her condition. The pain in her back was constant, although manageable without laudanum or even willow bark tea. She still had no sensation in her lower limbs and could not move them no matter how hard she concentrated. To know she might never walk or ride a horse again was a depressing thought to her. Added to this was the worry she could not be a proper wife to John and might never be able to experience motherhood.
She wasn’t normally a young woman who cried much, but lately she found herself weeping most of the time. In truth, she wanted to just curl into a ball and give up. Ironically, she couldn’t do it without help as she couldn’t curl her legs up anymore.
John seemed determined to force her to come to terms with her condition. While he told her he loved her and she knew he did, he pushed her to help herself by using her arms and upper body to drag herself up in bed to a sitting position. He read to her, talked to her, and played games with her. She found this both infuriating and stimulating. While she wanted to hide, he refused to let her.
Five days after the accident, he was playing chess with her. He was a challenging opponent and forced her to contemplate each move. She was doing just that when the door to the bed chamber flew open and her pretty blonde cousin, Fayre popped into the room still in her traveling cloak.
“I couldn’t wait to see you, Willa,” the pretty blonde burst out, her blue eyes sparkling as she smiled. “The carriage trip seemed interminable when all I wanted to do was be here with you.”
Willa watched with amusement as did John, judging by the grin on his face. Fayre threw her cloak off, almost hitting the maid in the face as the servant caught it. She rushed to Willa, wrapped her arms around her and gave her a squeeze. Then, as if in afterthought, she looked at John.
”Hello Lord Roydon,” she said and managed a curtsy.
John laughed. “I think you should call me John, and if you don’t mind, I’ll call you Fayre. We’re almost family after all.”
“Please do call me Fayre,” she replied
“How was your trip?” Willa asked.
“Other than being tiresomely long, it was fun. I do enjoy seeing the landscape roll past the window. Sarah, the maid your mother sent along, is nice, too.”
”I’m glad you came. I need your sweet personality as a distraction.” Then, much to Willa’s dismay, tears started to roll down her face. She fumbled on her lap for the handkerchief she kept nearby and blotted at them as Fayre squatted down and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. John leaned forward and ensconced her hand in his much larger one, murmuring soothing words.
Willa struggled to bring her emotions under control and then tried to bravely smile at the two of them. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I can’t seem to help myself.”
“It’s all right,” John told her with an understanding note to his voice. “It’s to be expected, but now with Fayre here I think you’ll be feeling much better. In fact, I’ll set the chess board aside and let you two ladies have a nice visit. I’m going to go exercise Pirate.” He bent and kissed her cheek in front of Fayre, then winked at the younger girl and left.
Fayre sat in the empty seat. “Have you had tea yet?” she asked.
”No,” Willa replied, “but we can request it.” She looked at Luvina who was on duty with her at the time.
“Of course, Miss,” the maid replied before going to the bell pull.
“Now tell me,” her cousin said, “are you in unbearable pain?”
“No, that is what is odd. My back hurts a small amount, but mostly it is just that I cannot move my legs or feet at all. They feel like they are just dangling there.”
”Hmmm,” Fayre sounded thoughtfully.
Willa continued. “When the doctor runs a sharp instrument down the bottom of my right foot, I can feel it a bit, but not when he does so on the left.” She was silent for a moment before she continued. “I’m so scared, Fayre. What if I can never walk again? The doctor has told me I don’t dare risk a pregnancy. I love John so much and all I want to do is marry him and have a family and now I don’t know if I can.”
****
John stepped out the front door and took a deep breath of the fresh autumn air. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sit in the bedchamber with Willa for hours. He was an active man and enjoyed being involved in the running of his estate, exercising his horses, and participating in a competitive hunt. Playing chess, reading books, and sitting in a chair at his fiancée's bedside was tiring for him. Moreover, watching his lovely and active bride-to-be give up and sink into the doldrums was crushing his spirit. Walking into the stables, he asked Brooks to saddle Pirate for him.
"I'm happy you're taking him out, my lord," the groom said. "He's been a bit restless today."
"I believe I'll take him down the road a bit, then," John said.
It was only a matter of minutes before he and the horse were making their way at a brisk pace in the opposite direction from the village. Pirate was enjoying a gallop when John caught a glimpse of a sign along the roadway. He pulled back on the reins and turned the horse around. Soon they were in front of a signpost at the corner of the main road and a lesser one. One of the arrows pointing south read "Townsend Park." Why did the name seem familiar, John wondered. As he took off his hat and let the breeze ruffle his hair, John remembered Ward had said Miss Marty was the daughter of the late Baron Townsend. She was the woman reputed to be good with animals. After making a quick decision, John directed Pirate onto the side road and headed toward Townsend Park.
About three miles had passed before the earl saw another sign for the estate. He steered Pirate to the west and rode onto lands which were well-kept and housed fat and sleek looking Angus doddies. The black cattle were grazing in pastures fenced with split rail fences. At the far end of the drive, he noticed a cluster of buildings, including a stately but modest home, a barn, and a number of other buildings. As he entered the drive, a footman stepped out of the house to greet him and to take the reins as John swung down out of the saddle.
"Good afternoon," he greeted the servant. "I'm looking for Miss Marty Robinson. Does she reside here?"
"Yes, sir. The butler will take your calling card to her."
As he said it, the house door swung open once again and a rotund butler appeared. John walked up the steps and proffered his card.
"Please come in, my lord," the butler said. He moved to take John's great coat, hat, and gloves. "I will alert Miss Robinson of your arrival," he continued as he walked toward a side door. It was a few moments before the man reappeared and bowed to John. "Miss Robinson will see you in the library."
John walked in, curious as to what he would see. The library was quite typical with wood paneling, two wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, and a large wooden desk facing the center of the room. The surprise came when he spied the slight figure behind the desk who looked as if she had just risen from the leather chair behind her. She could not have stood more than an inch or so over five feet and was slender to the point of appearing wraith like. Her skin was clear with a natural rosiness to her complexion, and her face was framed by a short, cropped mop of golden curls. This could not be Miss Robinson. Why, this young woman could not be as old as Willa.
"Lord Roydon," she greeted him as she made her way around the desk, revealing a trim figure dressed in a pretty pink-sprigged muslin gown with a modest neckline and long sleeves. "I don't believe we have m
et, although I have heard much about you." She extended her hand, and John took it in his own.
"I must confess," he stated, "I had not heard of you until recently."
"And I do hope what you have been told is of a positive nature."
"It is, I assure you," he said.
"Can you join me for tea? I asked Drake to have it served." She indicated the seating in front of the fireplace.
"Yes, tea would be nice." John seated himself in one of the two chairs as Miss Robinson sank into the opposite one. Almost immediately, the butler appeared through the open door with a tea tray filled with tempting finger sandwiches and tea biscuits.
“How do you take it?” Miss Robinson asked.
“One lump of sugar, please. I’ve been out riding, and I must admit this is appreciated.”
“I am curious as to why you stopped in,” Miss Robinson said.
“As you may know, I am to marry Miss Willa Dutton,” he began “and have been staying with the family. Your name has been bandied around out in the stables, so when I saw the signpost I decided to visit.”
“Yes, I had heard you were engaged and was delighted. Miss Dutton is a wonderful young lady. She is a fearless rider and cares for her livestock well. I was upset to hear about her accident. How is she doing?”
“Dr. Saunders is unsure how she is physically,” John stated truthfully. “She is suffering from paralysis from about her waist down. There is a small amount of feeling in her right foot, however, and she has some back pain where she landed on a tree root.”
“That is too bad. I cannot imagine what caused her to lose her seat. It is not like her. Does the doctor have hopes she will recover?”
“Some hope, yes. I have done a bit of reading on medical topics myself and yet refuse to believe she is permanently paralyzed. I’m afraid she does, however. Her mental state is not as good as I would hope. I believe she is suffering from melancholia.”
“I would be, too,” his hostess replied. “It is hard to imagine what it must be like to not be able to walk or ride. If I were even housebound, I am afraid I might decide I would rather not go on living.”
“Her cousin has just arrived,” John said. “I am hoping she will be a bit of a distraction to Willa so she quits contemplating her future quite so much.”
“Yes, that will help.” Marty Robinson lifted her tea cup and sipped from it. “I am curious, Lord Roydon, about your statement of how my name has been bandied around Lord Amhearst’s stables.”
“To be honest, Miss Robinson, I believe someone has been sabotaging Willa’s horse and tack. The only reason Pirate lost her was because her saddle girth had been cut almost clean through. When a bird hit Pirate in his belly, he leapt to the side, and there must have been just enough stress on the saddle to break the girth. Her groom said she was still sitting on the saddle when it flew off. Willa flew over the fence and landed on a tree root. I have been trying to investigate and Ward, the stable master, told me a few weeks ago Pirate had been acting skittish. He said he met you in the village and discussed the horse’s behavior, and you suggested it sounded like he had gotten into some lupine.”
“Yes, I do remember the conversation. I once had a horse who, I must admit, was not the most intelligent of the breed. He got into lupine and his behavior was exactly the same as it sounded like Pirate’s was. I do not believe lupine would kill a horse, but it would definitely cause his behavior to be bad enough he might lose a less-experienced rider than Miss Dutton.”
“I was afraid of that.” John decided he would not stand on ceremony with this delightful young woman, and he reached for another tea biscuit. It had a raisin filling and he particularly loved raisins. “Do tell me, Miss Robinson, how it has come about that you are known for a distance around as to be extremely good with animals. You must admit it is most uncommon for the daughter of a peer.”
She laughed. It was a rich and throaty chuckle which made John smile. “Yes, I do suppose it is most uncommon. So, Lord Roydon, is much of my behavior. I am known as an eccentric far and wide, but if you want to hear the story, you must promise to call me Marty or, if you would rather, Miss Marty like most hereabouts do.”
“It is a promise, Miss Marty, and please do call me John.”
“Unfortunately, while I loved my father, he was a wastrel and had not a clue about how to run a farm. My mother had already passed away before my father died when I was not yet eighteen. It took me little time to realize our staff running the farm were both untrustworthy and, I’m sorry to say, complete idiots. My young half-brother had inherited the Baronetcy and I realized there would be nothing left for his future if I did not step in. So I armed myself with books and asked questions of neighbors. I donned a pair of boy’s trousers and good mucking boots, and I started working with the herd. I discovered I’m good at it – quite good. Furthermore, I love it.”
John found himself grinning at her. He could not see this tiny feminine creature out mucking around in the mud, delivering calves, or facing down an angry bull. She must be one determined lady. “And did you bring the estate around?” he asked out of curiosity.
“I did,” she said with pride. “My brother is still in school, but when he is finished, he will come home to an estate which is in the black. He has learned from me over school holidays, and I believe he will continue to run the farm the way I have taught him. And, if he does, he will have a solid future for himself and the family he may someday have.”
John had listened to her and found he felt an enormous amount of respect for her. She was just the type of person he would want to get to know. He leaned forward, “Willa would love to ride astride and I would wager you do.”
Miss Marty smiled and lifted the plate of raisin biscuits to offer him yet another. “I admit I do, however, the situation is completely different. Your fiancée has a father who is of a higher peerage than mine was. And I am firmly on the shelf with no real hopes of a quality match, so I have less reason to worry about propriety.”
“Firmly on the shelf! How can you be? You appear to be no older than Willa is at a mere nineteen.”
The throaty chuckle came again. “Ah, thank you for the compliment, John. However, I assure you I am eight and twenty.”
John was shocked. She was near his own age. Now he was even more intrigued, but as the clock struck he realized he would soon have stayed far longer than was polite. With his stomach filled with tasty raisin tea biscuits, he set his cup and saucer back on the tea tray and prepared to take his leave.
“It has been a delight, Miss Marty, but I should return to the Amhearst’s home or Ward will begin to think I have stolen Pirate.”
Miss Marty rose as John did. She seemed almost surprised at herself when she said, “It has been fun, John. You should come back soon, and I’ll give you a tour of the farm.”
“I would like it above all things,” he replied. “How about two days hence?”
“That would be perfect,” Miss Marty said. “Why don’t you come by mid-morning, and we’ll start the tour on horseback. Then I’ll have Cook fix us lunch and I will show you around the home farm afterwards.”
John spoke again as he raised her hand to his lips. “I will look forward to it.”
****
Willa and Fayre were catching up over tea and crumpets. They had each received letters from Fayre's sister Claire describing her honeymoon trip. Fayre told Willa about her younger sisters and what they were doing. All the time she was visiting with Fayre, however, Willa missed John. For the past few days, he had spent much of the day with her, and now she felt somewhat abandoned. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. It was easy to understand that sitting with her had been difficult for him. John was an active man, and keeping an invalid company must be grating on his nerves.
Fayre was telling her about an incident between her youngest sister and a neighbor boy when the viscountess opened the door. "I have wonderful news, Willa my dear!"
Both girls turned to look at her. "What i
s it?" Willa asked, wishing it was news she would soon walk again.
"Your Bath chairs have arrived. Your father is getting a group of the servants to build a ramp out both the front door and the door into the back garden. By tomorrow at this time you should be able to enjoy the outdoors again."
Fayre clapped her hands together. "That is exciting, isn't it Willa? I declare, we will be able to enjoy many sunny afternoons in the garden now."
A footman pushed open a door and pulled a rather clumsy wheeled chair into the room. It was long and had two wheels in the back, with a third in the front. An iron handle was attached to the front wheel and Willa realized it could be used to pull the chair, or by the rider to steer it. The seating area was made of wicker and had a hood, reminding Willa of a giant child’s pram. "Would you like to try it out, Miss?"
Willa didn't think the awkward vehicle was going to improve her life much, but she agreed to try. "Why not?" she asked with a shrug.
The footman wheeled the chair quite close and then moved the handle out of the way. With that, he slipped one arm beneath her useless dressing-gown-clad knees and one arm around her lower back, lifting her gently from her chair and setting her just as gently in the new monstrosity.
Willa used her arms to scoot a bit higher up into the chair just as the footman moved the handle into a more upright position and then stepped to the back of the chair. Soon, Willa was moving forward, and she realized she could move the handle to steer the front wheel much like she used the reins to direct a horse to turn. Suddenly finding herself more in the mood to use the chair, she steered the chair toward the bed chamber door. She had not been out of her room since she had awoken unable to move her legs.
Fayre and Lady Amhearst moved along behind them as they ventured down the hall toward the stairs. As they came to the head of the stairway, the front door swung open, and John strode in. He came to a halt and looked up at her.
"Willa! You are mobile again." He bounded up the stairs and walked slowly around the chair, pushing and pulling it a bit. Looking up at the viscountess he asked, “Is there one downstairs as well?"
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