Lord Clayborne's Fancy

by Laura Matthews

  “And you think you shall get away with this?” Rebecca asked, trying to force down the panic and make her mind work. Suddenly the scissors and the pin did not seem such effective weapons against this maniac, his grip on her arm so strong that it had become numb.

  “Who is to stop me?” he countered. “Your legendary husband? Your lightskirt companion? Your broom-wielding maid? You shall not dare to say a word of it or it shall go very hard with your precious Elvira,” he snarled, flicking the whip in his other hand. “Get up!”

  Rebecca stumbled to her feet and tried ineffectually to brush the dust from her gown, the reticule gripped firmly in her hand. She was thoroughly convinced now, if she had not been before, that he was mad. It occurred to her that she might place herself at better advantage if she appeared more in keeping with his demented idea of her.

  “Well, you know, I really am married,” she said as casually as she could, continuing to work at the dirt on her gown.

  “About as much as I,” he laughed wildly, enjoying his own joke. “And where might your husband be?”

  “I cannot rightly say,” she answered demurely.

  “That I can believe.”

  “He is quite a well-known man, very rich and powerful,” she asserted lightly.

  “No doubt that is why you are not with him,” he snarled.

  “He sent me away,” Rebecca said, managing a becoming blush. Now he must ask her, for if she had not found the information she had sought in Clayborne’s books she had learned a number of very interesting things, especially in an old medical text she had found.

  “Very likely,” he growled. “No man is likely to send away such a choice bit as you.”

  “But he did, you know,” she said calmly, nodding her head wisely.

  “Why?”

  “As to that, I do not think I should tell you,” she replied evasively.

  “Enough of this foolishness. I shall have you now and no more talking.”

  “It would serve you right,” she said, simulating exasperation.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, Jason said, you know, that he would not keep me about to give him the pox,” she replied, imitating Clayborne’s accent every bit as well as Mary had.

  Lawton abruptly released his hold on her arm and stepped back from her. “I don’t believe you!” he screamed, but made no move toward her.

  “Do you not? Why else should I come to this Godforsaken place, I ask you? There are balls and parties going on in London right now which I should be attending, and that odious toad has banished me here for such a stupid reason. You would not care, would you?” she asked coaxingly, as she smiled at him with the full effect of her dimples and reached out a hand to him.

  Lawton leaped from her touch and flung curses at her as he hastily untied his horse, hidden in the bushes. As the hoofbeats died away Rebecca gave in to the rubberiness of her legs and sank shaking to the ground, at last shedding the tears she had been holding back in her fright.

  Once she began to cry she was unable to stop, her body racked with sob after sob. And then there were strong arms about her and a handkerchief was wiping away her tears. A familiar voice was saying, “I cannot think why we should all have imagined that you would need my help!”

  “Oh, J...Jason, I was so afraid. I b-brought a scissors and an enormous p-pin in case it was a trick, but suddenly they s-seemed quite useless. F-forgive me, I c-cannot seem to stop c-crying,” she gasped.

  “Hush now. Cry as much as you wish,” he urged, rocking her in his arms and brushing the black curls from her wet face. The racking sobs continued for a while, followed by long shuddering breaths, and finally little hiccups. “Do you feel a bit more the thing now?” he asked gently.

  “Y-Yes. How do you come to be here, Jason?”

  “Constance was much disturbed by Harpert’s message from you and she sent me to protect you.” He could not help but smile. “Really, Rebecca, I cannot imagine how you could believe that a scissors and a hat pin would be of the least use to you.”

  “Well, and so they might have been but for his having that wicked whip with him. You did not overhear what I told him, did you?” she asked shyly.

  “Oh, yes, I did. Practically every word of it! For a moment there I thought I should have to intervene, but you were such a complete hand it was certainly not necessary. I didn’t wish to precipitate matters if I could avoid it, for your friend Elvira’s sake. It should only be a matter of a day or so now before I can confront him with enough evidence to force him out of the country. Though if you prefer I shall shoot him for his attempt to…”

  Clayborne was unable to finish his sentence, his eyes flashing with fury.

  “No, no. You were perfectly right to do as you did,” she said, as she gently extracted herself from his arms and allowed him to help her to her feet. “Constance will be worried. We should go immediately to set her mind at rest.”

  Clayborne stood looking down at her, making no move. She lifted her enormous blue eyes to his inquiringly, her face streaked with tears and dust and her bonnet crumpled beyond recognition. He longed to crush her to him, to protect her always, but he realized that he had thrown away his right to do so by his lack of trust in her.

  His voice was anguished as he took her hand and asked softly, “Can you ever forgive me, Rebecca?”

  “There is nothing to forgive, Jason. I should never have taunted you with unkindness, for you have stood by me when I needed you and I am very grateful. Do not distress yourself over this incident. When Mr. Lawton is no longer in the neighborhood, Constance and I shall be quite safe enough, I assure you.” She smiled timidly up at him and then whistled to Firely, who immediately trotted up to her.

  “Would you hand me up, please?” she asked Clayborne. When he hesitated, as he wished to say more, she said gently, “I am fagged to death, Jason, and want nothing more than to lie down for an hour or so.”

  “Of course you are. I’m sorry.” He handed her up onto Firely and retrieved Constance’s horse from a ways down the lane. They rode back to the cottage in silence, where Constance rushed out crying, “Oh, Rebecca, are you hurt? You look awful!”

  “How unpleasant of you to say so,” Rebecca laughed. “I’m fine. No harm has come to me, but I should like to wash my face and lie down for a while. Jason will tell you all about it when he returns from stabling the horses.”

  She refused to divulge any further information but went directly to her room, where Harpert appeared immediately with a can of hot water. Constance clucked about her while she washed and changed into a night dress.

  As she tucked in the covers, Constance said, “Get some sleep. We’ll talk later,” and practically before she was out the door Rebecca was sound asleep.

  When Constance returned to the parlor she found Clayborne pacing up and down the small room. “What has happened, Jason? Rebecca is done in and did not say a word.”

  “It was as you feared, Constance. Mr. Lawton was there, not Elvira. I was not in time to hear how he managed to make her write the note, but I can imagine.”

  “But you were in time to protect her from him?” Constance begged.

  Clayborne smiled ruefully. “There was no need for my help at all, Constance. Rebecca managed to rout him by herself.”

  “She took a weapon with her?” Constance squeaked.

  “Well, as to that she had armed herself with a scissors and a large hat pin, but she did not feel they would be effective, as he was waving a whip about. No, she talked him out of forcing his attentions on her.”

  “Talked him out of it? Don’t be ridiculous, Jason!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “The man is mad. He would pay no attention to her pleadings.”

  “She did not precisely plead with him,” Clayborne admitted, biting his lip to suppress a smile. “She told him that her odious toad of a husband had sent her to the country to avoid contracting the pox from her.”

  “She never! Oh, Jason, it is too much,” Constance crow
ed with laughter. “I can just hear her.”

  “Yes, but she was very frightened by the whole, Constance,” he said more seriously, “and she’ll need to rest. I feel it will be only a matter of a day or so before I have enough evidence to confront Lawton with. I would gladly kill him for this, but Rebecca prefers that he be driven from the country. We’ll then be able to have the court appoint a new guardian for Elvira.” He studied his hands thoughtfully as Constance regarded him closely.

  “I do not believe she has any other relatives, Jason.”

  “It is a matter which I shall have looked into,” he replied calmly.

  Because neither of them could voice any hopes that might make it possible for them to consider Elvira’s future, they sat silently for a while. Constance pulled herself up from her abstraction and began to tell Clayborne of their stay in Chipping Campden, the decorating they had been doing and the villagers they had met, as well as an amusing account of their cookery lessons and the horseback riding in the neighborhood.

  When Clayborne rose he said, “I shall go to the inn now—I’m at the Lygon Arms—but with your permission I shall return later to check on Rebecca. I know you’ll take good care of her.”

  “Of course I will. Plan to stay to dinner, Jason,” she urged.

  “We shall see if Rebecca is up to it. Do you think Elvira is like to suffer for this last start of her uncle’s? Should I try to do something about that?”

  Constance considered this for a moment. “It is possible. Perhaps I can persuade the vicar to pay a visit to Campden Manor this afternoon to forestall any retribution. He was reluctant before this episode, but now I think I can persuade him to do something for us, especially if I mention that you are taking a personal interest in the matter.” She smiled bitterly. “I think Rebecca would prefer that you remain in the background for the moment as far as Mr. Lawton is concerned.”

  “As you wish. Just send for me if I am needed.” He made her a bow and departed.

  At the inn he engaged a young man who could recognize Mr. Lawton to keep a watch at the cottage for him and inform Clayborne immediately if he should appear in the vicinity. The young man was quite pleased with this lucrative assignment and took himself off speedily to spend a very dull afternoon in the sun at the corner of the lane.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Constance had peeped in at the door of Rebecca’s room and assured herself that her friend was sleeping soundly, she told Harpert that she was going round to the vicarage and would return shortly. “Should Lady Clayborne awaken, you may tell her so, and that Lord Clayborne is at the Lygon Arms should she need him. I’ll be only a short while.”

  Mr. Andrews was writing a treatise on patience as a God-given virtue and did not take kindly to the interruption, but upon Constance’s insistence he shortly joined her in the parlor.

  “I would not have come had the matter not been urgent, Mr. Andrews,” she explained. “This morning Mr. Lawton sent a note to Lady Clayborne signed by his niece. It begged her to come to the girl’s assistance, but when my friend arrived Mr. Lawton attempted to ... ah... force himself upon her. Fortunately she was able to extricate herself, and her husband, Lord Clayborne, brought her home. Lord Clayborne has most kindly looked into the matter of Mr. Lawton and his treatment of the girl and the mismanagement of her estate and intends to see that Mr. Lawton does not continue his nefarious activities. I have come to you to beg that you visit Campden Manor as soon as possible to ensure that the girl is not punished unjustly for this latest misadventure of her uncle’s. Will you do that for us?” Constance asked calmly.

  “You say Lord Clayborne has come to Chipping Campden? Mrs. Clayborne is actually Lady Clayborne? Why did she not say so?” he asked querulously.

  “She had no wish to cause a stir in the village, Mr. Andrews. Will you go to Campden Manor?”

  “You are sure that Lord Clayborne has interested himself in these matters? They certainly have nothing to do with him,” he replied dampingly.

  “At his wife’s request he has indeed involved himself. I myself assured him that I would ask you to go to Campden Manor to visit Elvira. Lord Clayborne would prefer not to go there until he has sufficient proof of Mr. Lawton’s crimes to confront him effectively. Will you go to Campden Manor?” Constance asked for the third time, her patience wearing thin.

  “Certainly. I shall set out at once. You may tell Lord Clayborne so,” he said, beaming benevolently upon her.

  “Thank you,” she replied rather tartly. “I am sure he will be very obliged. And if you would stop round at the cottage on your return I would be grateful to hear of your mission.”

  “Of course, of course, my dear. Perhaps Lord Clayborne himself will be there,” he suggested.

  “Perhaps. I will see you later, then. I must return to Lady Clayborne now, for she is done in by this morning’s events.”

  Constance managed to make a hasty exit and returned to the cottage to find that Rebecca had awakened and had insisted on sitting in the parlor.

  “How are you feeling now, Rebecca?” Constance asked with concern.

  “I am quite well, do not worry over me. Harpert is cosseting me for the two of you. Why did you go to the vicarage?”

  “I sent Mr. Andrews to Campden Manor to call on Elvira. I thought it might spare her if Mr. Lawton thought to take out his temper on her.”

  “Yes, a good idea. I imagine it took some strong words, though,” Rebecca laughed, “to move the old goat.”

  “No, not at all. Only two—Lord Clayborne.”

  “Magic words indeed. No doubt he will expect a contribution to his church for assisting his lordship. No matter. Jason can easily handle the likes of Mr. Andrews if he wishes to do so.” Rebecca sighed and leaned back on the sofa. “Jason told you what happened?”

  “Yes, and I had a good laugh,” Constance grinned. “I know it must have been a fearful experience, my dear, and I cannot imagine how you kept your wits about you so. I am sure I should have fainted.”

  “I shudder to think what would have happened had I done so,” Rebecca said grimly. “I could not stop crying afterwards, and my legs would not hold me up. Oh, let us be done speaking of it, for it makes me feel shaky still.”

  “I cannot doubt it. Since we have missed luncheon in all the excitement, shall I have Harpert bring something in here?”

  Constance arranged for a light meal and chatted about the draperies for her room. With her encouragement, Rebecca took up her needlework while they waited, and soon they were busily engaged in their decorating schemes again.

  They had barely finished a light but sustaining repast when Mr. Andrews was announced. Harpert whisked away the tray of empty dishes and was instructed to bring some tea and biscuits for their visitor.

  Mr. Andrews cleared his throat and, assured of the young ladies’ attention, began to deliver an address on his visit to Campden Manor. “I took the gig out shortly after Miss...ah...Exton left, as I am not fond of riding, myself. It seems an informal manner of travel, not to say undignified exactly, but not perhaps in keeping with my clerical duties. I should not like to smell of the stables, ha ha. I proceeded to Campden Manor, which is but a mile out of town, as no doubt you know. Once there I inquired for Mr. Lawton but was informed that he had left for Winchcomb an hour or so before my arrival and would not be back until tomorrow or the next day. I was of course quite relieved to hear that, ha ha. I then asked to see Miss Elvira and was informed by the housekeeper, a rather churlish woman I must say, that the girl had been in her room since early morning, indisposed. I did not like the sound of that, as you will understand, and I became very firm with the woman. I instructed her that as I was the vicar it was my duty and responsibility to visit the sick in the neighborhood. She told me that Miss Elvira was to have no visitors, so I asked her on whose authority,” he pronounced triumphantly and awaited Rebecca’s and Constance’s looks of admiring approbation before proceeding.

  “That of course stymied her for a moment, but
she retorted that the girl’s guardian had so instructed her. Now, I have studied reasoning and logic to some extent, and I fancy I was very clever in overcoming this objection. I pointed out to her that as her guardian had left for Winchcomb and was therefore in no position to judge of the girl’s continuing indisposition, and as he was not expected to return for a day or two that I, being the spiritual leader of the area, was the logical person to assess the matter. The woman could not answer me there! I told her that I would see the child right away and no more nonsense. She still hesitated, but I maintained my right to see the child, and I fancy it did no harm to point out that I was God’s emissary. These country women are rather superstitious. In any case she allowed as how I could follow her and led me up to the first floor where the child’s room is located toward the rear. And would you believe it, she drew a ring of keys from her apron pocket and unlocked the door! The child had been locked in, and there was a tray there with a glass of water and a stale piece of bread on it. I was never so shocked!”

  Rebecca and Constance managed to stifle their annoyance with Mr. Andrews’s self-righteous histrionics and urged him to continue. He was eager to do so. “Miss Elvira was curled up on the bed and when the housekeeper announced that I had come to call, she buried her face in her hands. I sent the housekeeper away and closed the door firmly after her, as you can imagine I had no desire to have her listening in on our conversation. When I spoke to the child, she said I should not have come, for her uncle would be very angry. I told her that her uncle had left for a day or two, and I could hear her sigh of relief. She still would not look at me and so I asked her if I could help her. Then she began to cry and say that she had betrayed Mrs…. ah... Lady Clayborne and could do nothing about it. I assured her, of course, as Miss... ah... Exton had assured me, that Lady Clayborne had managed to... ah... avoid any disastrous consequences from the episode. The child raised her head in her joy and I was horrified! Her face was bruised and swollen and her lip was cut, with dried blood on it.” He shivered at the memory.