Chapter Fourteen
John spent an hour in the library talking to his future father-in-law about who Samuel Parker suspected as carrying out attempts on Willa's life. When the mantle clock struck six, he knew he needed to run upstairs and clean up a bit before dinner. They were keeping country hours and, even though he could get by without changing for dinner, he still did so. He made an excuse to Yale and then stood to exit the room. Just as he stepped out of the door, he heard a commotion, followed by three feminine screams. Looking up, his heart practically leapt into his throat. Willa was clinging to the Bath chair as it rushed down the stairs out of control. A look of terror was on her face, her knuckles white against the edges as she struggled to maintain her seat.
John took the stairs two at a time, grabbed the bannister, and braced himself for the impact. When it hit, the front wheel slid between his calves, and the front of the chair smashed into his lower legs, almost knocking him down. Somehow, he managed to hang on by one arm as he heard a footman and the butler dash up behind him. At the same time he became aware of Fayre swathed in a dressing gown entangled with two other women. Yes, he thought, as he watched, it was Molly and the nurse. The footman coming up the stairs grabbed the Bath chair, "Let me help, my lord."
At the same time, John was aware of a crowd of people, of two footmen pulling the young women apart at the top of the stairs, of his future in-laws, and a number of servants. Yale strode up the stairs as John and the footman held firmly onto the chair. He scooped his daughter up in his arms and as her tears started to fall, he murmured to her, "There, there, honey. It's okay. Papa's got you."
Another footman ran up the stairs to grasp the back of the chair, and with the aid of the footman next to John, lifted it and carried it back up the stairs. John could finally move. "Is she alright?" he asked of Willa.
Not giving her father a chance to reply, Willa sniffed and said, "I am. I have fired Nancy, for she shoved me down the stairs."
"Ah ha! My suspicions are correct," the investigator said as he appeared at the top of the stairs. "Is there somewhere we can detain this person until I have a chance to question her?" he asked.
It was the butler who intervened. "Yes, sir, there is a cloak closet right down here. It has a sturdy door and a lock on it and is rarely used, so it is empty. Also, it does not have a window."
Mr. Parker looked at the two footmen who now held Nancy by either arm. "Let us take her down there then. We do not need to give her a chair. She can sit on the floor. A chair would only provide her with a weapon."
John stepped aside as they moved past him on their way down and watched as the culprit was locked into the closet, the key turned by the butler and then handed to Mr. Parker who pocketed it. Yale took his daughter into the drawing room, and the viscountess hurried down to be with her. John turned to follow and realized his shins were screaming in pain. He looked down and saw blood soaking through his snug pantaloons. At the same time, Martin emerged and said, "You should come upstairs and let me tend to your wounds, my lord."
"Yes, but first I need to check on my fiancée." He continued on down the stairs and hurried into the drawing room. Inside, Blythe was sitting next to her daughter, patting and rubbing the back of her hand. Yale was looming over them both with a worried look on his face. John hurried to her side, dropped on his knees on the floor in front of her and grasped her other hand. "Are you sure you have not been hurt?"
Willa nodded. "I'm sure. I was mostly scared and mad. Oh, she has made me so angry."
"Better angry than hurt," he replied.
She searched his face, "Are you hurt, John? You must be. You threw yourself in front of me to save me."
John didn't believe in lying to her. "The chair hit my lower legs, and I believe I may have received a scratch or two, but that is all."
"You must have them tended to," she told him. "You don't want them to become infected."
"I will," he assured her, "but I needed to make sure you suffered no harm."
Blythe looked at him. "Go have them tended to, John. I have told Abbott to ask Cook to hold off on dinner for a while. That will give us all time to settle a bit."
John rose, wincing as he did so. "I won't be long," he promised.
Upstairs, Martin glanced at John's buff breeches. "If we get those off right away, I should be able to soak the bloodstains out of them," his trusted valet said. John sat down and let the other man assist with pulling his boots off, followed by his pants. As Martin carefully peeled them away from his bloody shins, John winced once again. Then he sat there as his servant tended to his wounds. The skin was broken on both legs where the runaway chair had crashed into him. "You'll have some quite colorful bruises in a day or two, my lord,” Martin remarked.
"Yes, I expect I will," John agreed. "I suspect they'll be feeling quite stiff tomorrow, as well.”
A half hour later, John's wounds were bandaged and he was dressed for dinner. He made his way downstairs where he joined the Dutton family for an aperitif they doubtlessly all needed. "Do you know if Mr. Parker has questioned Nancy yet?" he quietly asked Yale as he stood next to the viscount near the window.
"He is in with her now, I believe." In fact, at that moment the man emerged from the cloak closet and walked toward them.
Yale turned to him, "Mr. Parker, we are glad to see you. How has your questioning gone?"
"Not well. She is refusing to talk other than to say it was an accident, that she tripped and the chair escaped her grasp. Of course, I do not believe her. However, I am confident she is not behind this, that she is only hired. After all, the risk she took was too great if she were not receiving a substantial payment. Yet I cannot get her to admit anything."
"The attempts may not stop if we do not find out who the culprit is," John said.
"That is true, no doubt," the investigator stated. "I will be taking her to London tomorrow to face multiple counts of attempted murder. The closet seems to be secure, so if we could perhaps provide her with a pallet and a chamber pot, along with a plate of dinner, she might be more willing to talk in the morn. Do you think we could round up enough men to guard the door throughout the night?"
"By all means," the viscount replied.
****
The household seemed to settle a bit with the knowledge Nancy had been taken to prison in London to await trial. Even though the nurse had tried to kill her at least three times, Willa was soft hearted enough to hope she did not hang. Transportation to Australia was another thing – knowing the woman was on the other side of the earth would make Willa much more comfortable.
As it turned out, Nancy had been no more willing to talk the following morning. Instead, she had been led off in handcuffs by Samuel Parker. The morning brought the additional news that Jenkins, the groom who had been suspected of the other attempts on Willa's life, had disappeared in the night. While this didn't leave Willa completely safe and secure, knowing he was not on the property did help.
With the feeling of having to constantly watch over her shoulder gone, Willa turned to the final details of her house party. The invitations had been sent, and responses were beginning to trickle in. So far, everyone had accepted her invitation, and the replies were both thankful and enthusiastic. Indeed, entertainments could be somewhat thin at this time of the year.
Willa did not move back into her own room. When it became known a day after the last attempt on Willa's life that both Jenkins and Nancy had falsified their references, Willa felt it wiser not to let her parents replace the nurse. Dawson had adjusted both Bath chairs and was working on a lifting device for her, leaving Willa feeling she was much more independent than she had been. With Brooks and Fayre accompanying her, she had even taken the pony cart out to deliver invitations to the neighbors for her events. Fayre walked them to the doors, but Willa drove as close to the door as she could each time.
She spent many hours with John and had begun to drop hints that she intended to release him.
"Fayre and I drove
to Townsend Park Farms to deliver an invitation for several events to Miss Marty," she told him.
"Did you?" he replied almost absently as he pushed her chair toward the stables to visit Pirate.
"She seemed quite excited to be joining us for so many events. In fact, she said she was glad that farming doesn't require much of her time during this season. I think she works too hard, don't you?"
"It's her choice, Willa," was his reply. "I suspect the farm provides well enough she could hire a farm manager if she so chose."
Another time she brought up her other expected female guests. "I'm sure Miss Russell would love to meet her match at my party. Why, she will make a wonderful wife. She is gracious and intelligent."
"Not many men are worried about whether their prospective wives are intelligent, Willa dear," he had said.
"You are."
"Indeed I am, but I am rare. Besides, I already have a prospective wife. One whom I hope will decide she can go ahead and marry me right away."
"But what if whoever hired Jenkins and Nancy hires someone else who is more successful this time? Then you would need another prospective wife."
"Don't even joke about that, Willa. I love you and would grieve for the rest of my life and never marry anyone else."
"But you need an heir."
"I have an heir," he said, "albeit he is one and twenty, still has spots, and knows nothing about agriculture. Still, he is no doubt holding his breath, hoping I will expire without a son in my future."
Another time she said, "Miss Clarke will make the most exceptional mother," Willa said. "I can see her with herds of little children hiding behind her skirts."
"Hmm, I hope our children will have enough confidence not to hide behind your skirts."
"Don’t be silly, John. They wouldn't be able to hide behind my skirts as all I can do is sit down."
"It is irrelevant, Willa. Our children will be more likely to want to ride on your lap, yelling, 'Faster Mama, faster!'"
Two days later she brought Miss Matthews into the conversation. "I have heard Miss Matthews is a lover of animals," she ventured.
"No doubt she has a yappy little dog she takes everywhere."
Honestly, Willa thought he sounded grumpy. "What is wrong with a little dog? You have dogs."
"Yes, I do. Working dogs. They earn their keep working with animals or hunting. They do not sit around on a cushion all day doing nothing more than leaving hair behind and panting."
Willa gave up. It was not easy to bring up the topic she needed to bring up. She would just have to show John he would be better off without her.
The first day of her house party arrived at last. John's friends, the married Earl and Countess of Tabor, were the first to drive down the road toward the estate. Willa saw them from the drawing room door and, although it probably wasn't keeping with propriety, she wheeled herself out to the door where Abbott obligingly opened it and helped her across the threshold so she greeted her first guests on the front step. She noticed John walking toward her from the stables, arriving before the carriage came to a halt. As his friends stepped out of the vehicle, John walked down to greet them.
"Tabor," he greeted, "it is good to see you. And, of course, Melinda, it is even better to see you," he joked.
The two men fell into conversation almost immediately, and the young countess made her own way up to the door where she greeted Willa.
"Miss Dutton, thank you for inviting us. I am so looking forward to this party."
"As am I," Willa replied, "but please call me Willa. I am hoping we will soon be fast friends."
"I am sure we will be. Why, you are to marry one of my husband's good friends, and we will no doubt see each other often."
Willa did not comment but instead invited her guest in for a refreshing cup of tea. They had barely settled by the tea service, when Miss Caroline Russell and her parents arrived. After that, everyone seemed to arrive quite quickly. The maids were busy carrying in tray after tray laden with fresh tea, plates of delicate sandwiches, and a variety of delicious biscuits and cakes. Meanwhile, the footmen hauled in trunks of clothing and possessions, while Mrs. Bailey was kept busy directing valets and maidservants to their employers' rooms.
As it was well into the fall, Willa had chosen a pretty, golden apricot gown for the evening. It was a new gown, purchased from the seamstress in the village who was more than pleased to have the opportunity to impress the titled with her skills, for she had fantasies of moving to London. When Willa had explained she had a need to freely move her arms while wheeling her chair, the woman had suggested that instead of following the style of long, fitted sleeves, she create full sleeves with tight, deep cuffs. The neckline was quite low, allowing her mother's borrowed pearls to be displayed to their best. Willa felt quite beautiful in the gown despite having to be in her chair.
With just over two dozen dinner guests squeezed in around the dining table, the quarters were close. Even though Willa's chair fit under the table now, she had asked to be lifted into a dining chair to save space. Seated someway down the table, between Baron Macey and Mr. Webster, Willa experienced a certain amount of pride as dish after dish was exclaimed over. Certainly, Cook and her staff had prepared the food, but it had been herself and Fayre who had toiled over the menu. Conversation flowed freely as the houseguests made themselves known to those from the neighborhood. As the final course drew to a close, Willa asked Morton to lift her into the waiting chair and wheel her into the drawing room.
When the gentlemen joined the ladies after their brandies and cigars, Willa suggested those with musical talents perform on the pianoforte for the benefit of the others. She recommended Fayre begin and, reminiscent of the earlier dinner party she had held, young Ronald Hampstead was happy to turn pages for her cousin. When Fayre had played several numbers, Willa coaxed each of her younger eligible female guests to play. The gentlemen, of course, were willing to turn pages, sing along, and generally flirt with the women.
Willa kept an eye on John. As might be expected, he spent a considerable amount of time with his closest friend, the Earl of Tabor. However, as John was well bred, he did not restrict his time to just one person. Instead, he made his way around the room.
****
Indeed, John did know that as Willa was the hostess, he more or less played the role of host, although the party wasn't in his own home. He would have liked to spend all of his time with Tabor, but he did not. He spoke to Baron Macey about the viscount's horses, to the Earl of Baddock about the hunting available in the area. He pointed out to Mr. Donald Miller when the elder Miss Matthews was alone for a moment, knowing the man needed a mother for all of those children. John greeted the married women and complimented each of the single ones on their pianoforte performances. At last, he worked his way around to Miss Marty Robinson.
"Willa and I are pleased you could take time away from your livestock to join us for the festivities," he remarked.
"It is my pleasure. I will admit life is a bit dull at the farm these days."
"It's not calving season," John pointed out.
"No, and I sold my wandering bull to a Scotsman who has had his eye on my herd for a while now. The man has a large amount of land in the wilds of Scotland, and I'm sure my bull is happier there than being restricted to a small pen to keep him home."
"No doubt," John agreed. "I do hope you received a good price for him."
He watched as the woman smiled, noting how much her face lit up when she did so. "I did. After all, the bull has proven himself time and time again. With my cows, with the herd to the north, the one to the south, and with the ones in both the east and west."
John laughed outright. "Proliferate fellow, isn't he?" He paused, looking around to see if he dare spend some more time with this woman. Noting that everyone was occupied, he continued. "When do you start calving season?"
"In March. I am not complaining about it being slow now, mind you. I keep calving season as short and compacted as I possib
ly can. At that time, I make sure I have a man scheduled 'round the clock so I do not have any losses. Of course, right after that we must keep an eye on all those delightful mamas and babies so none of them fall ill."
John was well aware of the work involved in farming, especially when one had a reputation like Marty Robinson's. He spent the next quarter hour in conversation with her, enjoying every last minute. Finally and regretfully, he excused himself to move on, but only when Viscount Gage joined them and he could be sure Miss Marty would not stand alone. He was unsure if she had much in common with most of the women in attendance.
****
Willa watched John with Miss Marty. Willa was speaking to Miss Clarke and her new friend, Melinda. It was a struggle to keep an eye on her fiancé while still carrying on a sensible conversation with the other two.
She had seen him walk up to Miss Marty. Before that time he had been doing a remarkable job of playing host to her hostess role. Once he had joined the other woman, however, he had loitered. Due to the size of the room, she wasn't close enough to hear what they were conversing about. However, she did note Miss Marty's face had broken into a lovely smile which lit up her entire countenance. Later, John's burst of laughter had been easy to catch. This had been accompanied by his own smile, the one he formed when he was truly enjoying himself.
Willa almost sighed in satisfaction. While it made her heart ache yet again to think of giving him up, she knew it was for the best. And knowing the man she loved with her whole being was settled with a woman with whom he had much in common, who could provide him with healthy and rambunctious heirs, and who would make him laugh and smile was all that mattered to her now.
Chapter Fifteen
To Release an Earl Page 14