Hayden’s lips firmed.
“He is whole, but unconscious,” he relayed stiffly. “The surgeon expects him to pass through several days of fever, to flirt with wakefulness, then to recover-or fail to. Chas took a shot through his left shoulder, and another-much more severe-to his left side. The ball broke a rib but seems to have spared his organs. He has lost considerable blood. If he recovers, ‘twill take him many weeks to be as he was.” Hayden surveyed their white faces, nodded briefly and sharply, then turned as though to depart. But sounds of a commotion in the front hall halted him.
At her father’s impatient “Good heavens, man, give me some room …” Meg rose and moved stiffly toward the hall. She could see the duchess’ man, sturdy Alphonse, attempting to make way for her father’s chair. She glanced once at her father’s face, but feared his swift perception. Instead she moved to clasp his hand at the side of his chair, and kept her composure by focusing on Ferrell’s calm features. As their group entered the breakfast room, the duchess looked most intrigued.
“Your Grace,” Meg managed, “I beg your pardon. May I present my family? My father, Sir Eustace Lawrence, and Mr. Ferrell, my sister’s husband”
“It has been some time, Sir Eustace,” the duchess said.
“Too long,” her father agreed. “I apologize for the intrusion, Your Grace, Lord Hayden-but I should very much appreciate a moment alone with my daughter-if you would permit me?”
Hayden’s glance cautioned Meg, but he obligingly drew Ferrell out of the room. The duchess patted Meg’s arm.
“Meg is now also a daughter of this house, Sir Eustace,” she told him warmly.
“So I understand. Though I have not yet had the opportunity to tender my blessing. You realize I am a most frustrated father.”
“You must take whatever time you wish, then” she said, kindly yielding her breakfast room to the two of them.
“So, Margaret . . ” But Meg had already fallen to her knees before her father’s chair and brought his hand to her suddenly tear-streaked face.
“Oh come, girl,” he said gruffly. “‘Tis not so bad ..
“I cannot see him.”
“Surely you’re not so squeamish.”
Meg shook her head.
“Lord Hayden will not let me go to him.”
“Will not let you, eh? Well, we shall see. After all, you are his wife.”
Meg summoned a small smile.
“You do not mind, father?”
“It’s what you wanted, Margaret?”
“Yes”
“And if he is-after this-as I am?”
Meg drew a sharp breath.
“I shall thank God he is alive”
He patted her hand.
“You see it is not so bad. You love him, my dear?”
“Yes, father.”
“Then, having been your champion, he deserves his reward. Like the knights of old” He smiled. “Lord Hayden is overly cautious in denying him your company. I suspect he discharges a promise to Cabot, which is commendable, but given the situation-misguided. He does not understand matters of the heart”
Meg shook her head.
“I think you are wrong there, father. He certainly understood Lucy and Harry before any of the rest of us. Even before Lucy.”
“Did he? Perhaps there is hope for him then. Tell me, Margaret, are all these fools afraid of me?”
“I believe so, father.” Her eyes were still tearing. “Lord Hayden will not relay the facts to me, for fear I shall tell you.
“What-do they fear I shall have them all clapped in irons? At my great age and state of decay, it is most flattering. Surely the cold as Christmas marquis is not afraid of me? He is untouchable.”
“He fears for Cabot. And-that something might happen to me”
“Ah-yes! That I can see. Well, I shall have it all from Bertram soon enough. But in the meantime you must assure yourself that Cabot cannot be faulted in any way-for Ferrell told me he took two shots. Two shots is evidence enough, my dear, that Sutcliffe and his accomplice were intent on murder. Do you understand? They duel with single shots. Cabot could not have fired even before the signal and taken two shots himself. His honor cannot be impugned”
Meg swallowed and wiped her face with one palm.
“Sutcliffe is dead.”
“Yes, Margaret. But by whose hand?”
Meg stared at him, at once aware that the morning’s encounter had been more involved than she had first supposed.
“Now here is what we shall do, my Meg,” her father said with satisfaction, drawing her attention back to her predicament. “Bertram promises to return this evening with Ferrell’s carriage. If Lord Hayden consents to send you to Putney, you shall have Bertram to accompany you. And if Putney is prohibited, perhaps we shall still get you to Selbourne. For I know my Margaret. An imprisonment in town, even at the home of a duchess, will be quite beyond you. What say you?”
“I shall try,” she said.
“Good. Then you have only to wait this day for Bertram. And if this does not work, I shall put you on Arcturus, who will fly you wherever you wish to go.” At that Meg smiled. “Now dry your eyes,” Sir Eustace passed her his handkerchief, “and let us see the others, sheepish lot that they are”
Meg kissed him before rising to open the door. The others, apparently having lingered in the hall, returned quickly to the breakfast room.
“My lord,” Sir Eustace addressed Hayden. “My girl knows little of this morning’s adventure. Will you not enlighten us?”
“‘Twas a sportin’ event, Sir Eustace,” he claimed easily, “that went rather awry” Hayden’s gaze sought Ferrell. “I believe Mr. Ferrell will confirm?”
“Indeed,” Ferrell agreed. “More awry for some than for others”
Sir Eustace snorted inelegantly.
“You know I am a decrepit old cripple, with no power to harm any of you. Why will you not consider what I might do to aid you? What if Cabot should die?”
“In that unwelcome event,” Hayden said, ignoring Meg’s small gasp, “we would not need your aid, Sir Eustace.”
“Ah-I see. The law cannot touch you and your kind. But you fear it might still grasp at Cabot. From what little I have heard, that is most unlikely.”
Hayden acknowledged that with a tilt of his head.
“Nevertheless, Sir Eustace, it is best that you continue to remain-unapprised-for the nonce. I refuse to burden you with knowledge that can only weigh unnecessarily on your conscience. There remains a continuing threat from an unpredictable quarter.”
“This is why you restrain Margaret? I am convinced Cabot would wish to see her.”
“Undoubtedly.” Hayden nodded to Meg. “But there may have been plans, to harm her-vengeful plans-should Sutcliffe not prevail.”
“Umph! In all his cursed days, Sutcliffe only ever expected to prevail. So it must be that menace Mulmgren for whom you prepare.” As Hayden’s gaze narrowed, he added, “You think I would protect such a fellow?”
Hayden smiled tightly.
“I think you are as you are, sir,” he said frankly. “Sir Eustace, I regret I cannot stay to chat. Some other time perhaps. Grandmere” He bowed to his grandmother, then abruptly took his leave.
“A clever man, that,” Sir Eustace mused as he shook his head. “‘Tis a shame”
“What is the shame, monsieur?” the duchess asked sharply.
“Why-that he is a marquis. Do you not agree, Ferrell?”
“I do indeed, sir.”
“I hear of your independent views, Sir Eustace,” the duchess said with a small smile. “I will surprise you, by agreeing with you.” But Meg, eager to catch Lord Hayden, had swiftly abandoned the exchange.
“My lord,” she called, stopping Hayden even as he was at the door. She could sense his reluctance to be detained. “My lord, I would go to him. Surely … surely you must understand?”
“‘Tis not so entirely incomprehensible,” he said. His tone was both wary and amused.<
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“Then-must I plead?”
“Miss Meg,” he started with some impatience, but seemed to collect himself, “you are nearly a sister to me now, Miss Meg. So I hope you will trust in my frankness. As a practical matter, ‘tis an impossibility. Doctor McCaffrey’s house is small. He and his wife have given Chas their own boys’ room and packed the youngsters on a sofa. My brother will sleep in a chair, or on the floor. There is no one else we might evict, not even a maid. And before you suggest ityes I see it in your eye-Chas cannot be moved. I promise you,” and she thought his voice softened, as though he would be kind, “David will care for him. And protect him” “But perhaps I might stay in the village?”
“Then who would protect you, Miss Meg? In any case you would wish to be with Chas. I cannot order you, ma’am, if you are determined. But I do wish you would take my recommendation. If you cannot bear to stay in town here with Grandmere, you must consider removing to Braughton. Or go home”
“Home? Do you mean to Brookslea?”
Hayden looked as though he might smile.
“I must tell that to Chas. He will rally instantly. But no-I meant to Selbourne, with your brother, as you had originally intended. I understand that was your plan only yesterday, so your preparations must be advanced. Is that not so?”
Meg nodded, while looking down.
“Chas asked me to keep you away,” Hayden repeated. “‘Twas his wish.” “
At that she looked straight into those sharp blue eyes.
I must know the nature of this threat my lord. You suggest that Mulmgren might attempt … to make further mischief. Will you not tell me why?”
“I will not be indiscreet, Miss Meg. You are your father’s daughter.”
“But I am not a barrister,” she countered softly, holding his gaze. “And I am your cousin’s wife.”
She noticed when his gaze conceded the claim. His sigh was resigned.
“Chas does not yet know this,” he said. “We have not told him. But David and I were convinced Sutcliffe and Mulmgren were not to be trusted. On the way to Wimbledon, as Chas was sleeping, we primed and loaded David’s pistol. He was to act a bit foxed, but be prepared to shoot should anything untoward occur. Unfortunately-though my brother is a competent actor, Miss Meg-he could not disguise his sidearm, and Sutcliffe objected. I had to take it. We tried to dissemble, to feign an oversight, such that they would believe I had no thought to fire it. Mulmgren must have forgotten watchin’ me deal left-handed at whist .. ” Hay den looked as though the inattention puzzled him. “Sutcliffe fired before times as, no doubt, you and Sir Eustace suspect. He hit Chas in the shoulder. When Chas took his turn at Sutcliffe, Mulmgren was raising his pistol. And he and I fired at the same time.”
“Then you-did not fire at Sutcliffe?”
He shook his head.
“No. Chas’s ball killed Sutcliffe. Unmistakably. I fired only to stop Mulmgren.” He shrugged. “‘Tis always possible Chas’s aim was off, that without Mulmgren’s interference Chas would have missed. If so,” and Hayden smiled coldly, “Sutcliffe managed to defeat himself.”
“But Mulmgren?” Meg asked.
“I know I struck him, but I cannot know the extent. I should have done better.” Meg suspected Hayden rarely came so close to an apology. “Naturally enough, Chas had all our attention-Mulmgren’s shot knocked him to the ground. And Mulmgren’s carriage quickly left the field. We rushed Chas to the doctor’s and I returned here at once to see you. But now I must try to locate Mulmgren. I fear an injury will only encourage him. He is most unsound, Miss Meg. We have heard tell of practices on the Continent that would strike no one as civilized.”
The comment caused her to shiver. And she knew it was in the nature of a warning. But she had every intention of avoiding Mulmgren.
“Cabot, is he ..
“As I described. And heavily dosed with laudanum. Were you to travel to see him, you would not even find him awake. Or if so, he would insist that you leave. He was most adamant. It is a great testament to his strength, Miss Meg, that he would sacrifice your presence. Will you not draw some confidence from that?”
Meg swallowed.
“I shouldn’t wish to create a greater difficulty, than you-and he-must confront already.” She could feel his detachment, and strove to sway him. “I will wait, because you ask it, because he wishes it, though it is certainly not what I choose. But you should know-” She stopped, then said urgently, “My lord, I have lived with threats from Sutcliffe and Mulmgren for some time. You and the major should be aware that I believe Mulmgren will choose to come for me and for Bertie, whether we are here in town or out at Selbourne. I cannot explain why I think it. It is as though he has been trained to the scent. Like the vicious hound that he is. You see how he has acted so far. With his master dead, he will be ruthless in his spite. What you say convinces me-that Cabot would be in more danger were I to go to him.”
Hayden frowned.
“If this is true, I am miscalculating.”
Meg shook her head.
“‘Tis but a feeling after all, an instinct. If you hunt for Mulmgren, he will be robbed of time to plan. And ‘tis clear that the major is best capable of seeing to Cabot’s needsin this-difficult situation.” It was hard for her to admit.
“Perhaps,” Hayden said abruptly, “I must contrive something else.”
“My lord, if Mulmgren is injured, he will not be pursuing us just yet. We shall let him believe us still in town, but Bertie and I will leave for Selbourne by dawn tomorrow. And then, should he try us-oh, woe unto him!” The strain of the past day, of being parted from Cabot, and in such uncertain circumstances, seemed strange reward for what he had accomplished. Her heart still wished to go to him.
“I shall tell Chas and David what you’ve told me,” Hayden said. “Clearly you must take care, wherever you are. I shall be in touch with your brother. But be assured I shall make every effort to locate and keep Mulmgren on leash.”
“I-I thank you, my lord.” She could sense then his desire to leave; she was conscious of noises from the street beyond the door and the sound of conversation from the breakfast room behind them. But rather than permitting him to go, Meg held him back a moment longer. He was her last tie to his cousin, perhaps for some time, perhaps forever. She raised damp eyes to his direct gaze. “If you would-please tell him that I love him,” she said simply. And the Marquis of Hayden bowed deeply as she turned back into the hall.
The late June day had been too hot. As a lowering sun baked every surface-soil, silk and skin, Meg sat in shaded stillness, contemplating Selbourne’s stone and lofty chimneys, shimmering in the distant heat haze. Atop the knoll that she would now forever consider Cabot’s, she remained motionless-like a small basking creature that had no thought to move again. Paloma, cropping the grass nearby, objected to the attentions of a fly with the toss of her head and mane and the metallic jingle of her bridle.
After a survey of the park with Meg, Bertie had ridden across to speak briefly with the Wemblys, who had opened up Havingsham Hall just the week before. But since returning home, Meg had been disinclined to pay calls on their neighbors. She had begged off visiting that afternoon, telling Bertie that she would not go socializing in her riding breeches. In truth she was embarrassed to have so little word of her new husband, which was what kindly Mr. Wembly would solicit. And the subject of her precipitous marriage made Walter too obviously unhappy.
Mimicking Paloma, Meg plucked out a long blade of grass and nibbled one end.
At least on this Sunday Selbourne was blessedly quiet. The few workmen remaining for the summer had the day to themselves. Most of the major projects had been completed; the foreman had taken himself off to provide some guidance to Cabot’s other commitments. But Cabot …
The latest note from Lord Hayden to Bertie had claimed Cabot was mending rapidly, daily. Through Hayden, Cabot had conveyed his concern for her, but she had nothing in his hand. She longed for a word, for the most meager acknowled
gment. She feared Cabot had not believed her message-and each day of silence increased her fear to repeat it. Perhaps she had mistaken his commitment. Yet he had ventured all. He had shown her. Indeed, she felt she now owed him the greater effort at fond expression.
Hayden anticipated Cabot’s removal to town shortly. For days Meg had lived in a state of readiness, prepared to travel swiftly at Hayden’s notice. The rest of the world, she thought with some envy, had been descending on London, celebrating Bonaparte’s abdication. Why should she not join the jubilant throng? Her father and Lucy had remained at Aunt Pru’s, sampling the festivities of the peace, expecting her arrival any day. Meg had hoped she might hear that very morning, but no, nothing had come, except the sunlight and oppressive heat.
At least Lucy was happy these days, since her father and the Wemblys had consented to an understanding. In open adoration, Lucy was convinced “her” Harry would become a bishop-as indeed everyone else was convinced Harry would become a bishop. But first poor Harry had to finish his studies, and then, perhaps, next June …
Meg fingered Cabot’s wedding ring. She would like to be a bride herself-someday. She had spent too many weeks thankful not to be a widow.
She and Bertie had seen nothing of Mulmgren or any other strangers, though men had been posted to watch regularly about Selbourne. They had wondered whether Hayden’s shot had injured the baron more than supposed. Only once had Hayden referred to Mulmgren, claiming that he was known to be in town, but Hayden had made no further mention of Mulmgren’s injury, nor of the necessity to find him.
Meg’s gaze strayed idly toward the river. A coach moved along the road in the distance, and slowed at the end of Selbourne’s drive. On any given Sunday people took outings along the river-they would often stop to view the splendid beeches beyond the gates. Just that morning at church, one of Bertie’s acquaintances had commented that Selbourne was looking “prime”, and hadn’t they had a great deal done to the place? Bertie had enthused over Cabot, while Meg had stood glumly by.
Perhaps she would have to leave for Aunt Pru’s that week; she could not bear to stay so distressingly safe here in the country.
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