“No, I’ll stay.” Alistair firmly pulled up a hard chair and sat down. “I am staying.”
“I’ll spell you later,” said the housekeeper, but Alistair scarcely heard.
Tenderly he touched Winter’s cheek. “Winter, you have to wake up. Tiger, fight. You have to fight.” Closing his eyes, he began to pray.
Chapter 12
The afternoon slipped behind the horizon, and still Winter did not stir. Alternately, Alistair prayed and talked to Winter.
“‘Tiger, Tiger, burning bright,’” he quoted slowly, “‘in the forests of the night...’”
He continued quoting, his own eyes misting as he continued.
“‘When the stars threw down their spears, and watered heaven with their tears, did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the Lamb make thee?’”
“‘Tiger, Tiger, burning bright...’”
Swallowing with some difficulty, he finished the poem almost as a prayer.
“Winter, fight. You must fight. Lord, You made the lamb, and You made Winter. I know You love her, and now that You have put this love in my heart for her, please don’t take her away.” He had his head cradled in his arms, praying, when the housekeeper tiptoed into the room.
She lightly touched his shoulder and spoke with compassion. “M’lord?”
Alistair jerked up, blinked. “Mrs. Duncan.”
“You’re exhausted, Lord Alistair. Dinner is ready. I’ll stay with Lady Renton.”
When Alistair protested, she put her hands on her wide hips. “You’ll do my mistress no good falling asleep. You need to eat, and,” she said, eyeing his rumpled bloodstained clothes, “you need to freshen up.”
A grin quirked the corners of his mouth at her imperious tone. “I’ll eat, and then return.”
“Not until you change clothes, you won’t. Why, if my lady woke up, the sight of you would make her swoon. Not that she ever did before, mind you.”
For the first time, Alistair regarded his clothes. Sniffed. “Dreadful. Oh, yes. Quite dreadful.”
“Don’t worry. They brought in your things, and you can bathe and change before you eat.”
“Thanks.” He found a bath waiting and, with relief, cleaned up and put on the freshly pressed breeches, shirt and jacket laid out on the bed. He found his travel bag, which had been attached to the back of his saddle, tucked in the corner.
Feeling more the thing, Alistair joined Mr. Jonas in the dining parlour. As they ate, Mr. Jonas asked hesitantly, “How is Lady Renton?”
“Concussion,” Alistair told him.
Again the manager hesitated, until Alistair grew irritated. “Out with it, man.”
“I’ve been making some discreet inquiries, m’lord.”
The earl looked up, “About?”
“Lord Derik.”
Alistair waited for Mr. Jonas to continue, giving no clue to what he either knew or suspected.
“Seems his lordship’s estate is in financial difficulties. Gambling. He needs the blunt to pull it out.”
Fingering the stem of his glass, Alistair answered, “I am convinced he caused her accident.”
“If I may be so bold—what was he trying to do?”
“I have two theories. Either he hoped she would be injured, and he could be her knight in shining armor, or...”
“Or,” Mr. Jonas prompted.
Alistair’s face darkened. “He meant to murder her. He may think she knows something he doesn’t want passed on.”
“What’s he going to do now?”
“Don’t worry. I am going to see to it he no longer has reason to pursue her with marriage in mind.”
* * *
Alistair found the housekeeper comfortably ensconced on a deep-cushioned chair.
“I am clean and fed,” said Alistair. “Do I pass as a sitter for a time?”
A stubborn light shown in the woman’s eyes. “I daresay you haven’t slept much the past few nights. You need sleep.”
As though in answer, Alistair stifled a yawn. “Bother! Mayhap a few hours. How is she?”
“The same. She hasn’t moved.” A sob escaped the large woman’s lips.
Feeling awkward, Alistair patted her shoulder. “We’ll keep praying, Mrs. Duncan. He does hear us. Oh, yes. I’ll relieve you in a few hours.”
He felt her gaze on his back as he left the room and heard her quiet “Well, praise be!”
In his spacious room, Alistair blew out the candles and settled with a sigh into the comfortable bed. It wasn’t long before his eyes closed. Deep in the stillness of the night he awoke, groggy with sleep. He heard the grandfather clock in the hallway bong, once, twice, three times.
Alistair forced himself to get up. A few minutes later he made his way down the hall.
Mrs. Duncan’s hands, wrapped in her crochet work, lay forgotten on her lap. Her head bobbed against the back of the chair with each loud snore.
Alistair tapped the woman’s shoulder. “Mrs. Duncan, wake up.”
Jerking awake, the housekeeper stared at Alistair. “Oh, dear, don’t tell me I fell asleep. Her ladyship?”
Alistair bent over Winter, felt the pulse in her neck. “No change.” He turned. “You go on to bed.”
As the door closed behind her, Alistair took her place in the chair. Leaning over, he stroked Winter’s soft cheek. “Wake up, tiger,” he coaxed. “Wake up.”
Sometime later, he shot forward at her murmur. “Bit o’muslin. Bit o’muslin. Justin.” She groaned. “Love. No.”
“Winter.” He kept his voice soft. “Winter?”
Suddenly her eyes flew open. Her eyes widened at seeing Justin leaning over her, his face anxious. “Justin, you’re here.” Before he could respond, her eyes closed.
Taking her hand, Alistair held it to his lips. “I am here, my tiger. I won’t leave you again. Do you hear me, Winter? I am here.” She did not respond.
When Dr. Morgan stopped in the next morning, Alistair told him, “She opened her eyes and muttered a few words during the night. She recognized me. The next moment she was out again.”
“Good. Looks like she may be coming out of it. Don’t leave her alone.” After changing the bandage, the doctor left.
Winter wavered in and out of consciousness for the next two days. Times of lucidity never lasted more than a moment or two, but Winter seemed to be gaining in strength.
Alistair and Mrs. Duncan regularly spelled one another. During the long hours of inactivity, Alistair picked up Winter’s bible and spent long hours absorbing its message. He put it down with reluctance as though parting from a beloved friend.
Each time the housekeeper relieved him, Alistair found it more and more difficult to leave.
“I can stay longer.”
“Now, m’lord,” the housekeeper declared, “I know you care about her, but it will do her no good if you wear yourself out. You need a break, and there are a couple of prime cattle that need exercise.”
“You’re right, Mrs. Duncan. I do believe you’re worse than my nanny—the bane of my young life.” He softened his words with a grin.
“Have done with your flummery,” Mrs. Duncan said. “Now off with you. If she awakes, I’ll let you know.”
Late the third morning, Winter opened her eyes, her mind clear. “Justin.”
Alistair, who had been up most of the night, snapped awake. “Winter?”
“I didn’t dream you.” Weakly she reached a hand to touch his cheek as he leaned over toward her.
Alistair’s heart began to pound. A boyish grin spread across his face. “You’re back!”
She smiled.
He jerked the bell cord. Mrs. Duncan hurried into the room. “Winter, is she...?”
“She’s awake,” Alistair cri
ed. “She’s going to make it!”
“Praise be!” Mrs. Duncan pulled out a kerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Straightening, she said, “You need nourishment, m’lady. I’ll see to it immediately.”
Going to the windows, Alistair pulled back the curtains to let in the morning light before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Taking Winter’s hand, he kissed it. The two gazed at each other, exchanging things too deep for mere words.
When the housekeeper returned, Alistair reluctantly stepped aside to give her room at Winter’s bedside. As he watched Mrs. Duncan feed Winter spoonful by spoonful, he could almost see Winter’s eyes brighten.
“Enough,” she finally whispered and, with a soft smile, slipped into a deep, natural sleep.
* * *
Hours later, Winter awoke to find Alistair studying her. This time Winter frowned. “I thought you were busy. Lord Hollingsworth implied...”
“I am well aware of his Banbury tales. Did you truly credit his lies?” She saw disappointment in his eyes.
“You left me.”
Alistair rifled his hand through his hair. “I haven’t taken a woman to my bed since...since Amelia.” Winter heard a hint of bitterness. “I thought you had begun to trust me, Winter.”
“In the sitting room, you held me, said you cared...and left....”
“I should not have attended you at night, not even in your sitting room, Winter. I only thought about explaining the truth of the matter.” He traced her cheek with his fingers, causing color to flame Winter’s cheeks. “However, walking away was one of the most difficult things I have ever done.”
“Justin...” Whatever she meant to say was forgotten as the door opened to admit Mrs. Duncan carrying a tray.
“M’lady, more soup.”
Winter struggled to sit up. Reaching down, Alistair put his arms around her and pulled her up. Winter shivered at his touch.
Putting down the tray, the housekeeper shooed Alistair from the room. “Luncheon is waiting to be served for you, as well.”
Bowing in mock surrender, Alistair shook his head in mock dismay. “Upon my word, the woman has been ordering me around ever since I arrived.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” the housekeeper said, “someone has to keep you in line. Always hoverin’ over her ladyship like some lovesick calf.”
Winter caught the twitch in Alistair’s cheek. Could it possibly be? But after a short laugh, he exited without comment.
When Mrs. Duncan put the spoon into the thick soup, Winter took it from her. “Here, I can do that.”
Under the housekeeper’s watchful eye, Winter managed to empty the bowl. “Delicious.” She put down the spoon and leaned back. “When did Lord Alistair get here?”
“Why, miss. His lordship found you on Renton Hill days ago. All bloody you was. No dandy, that one. Didn’t mind his fine coat in his concern for you. He brought you down all cradled in his arms. I’ve had to force him to leave your side to take care of himself. He was in a case, he was.”
Winter’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
“You know I don’t tell tales.”
“I know, Mrs. Duncan. Sorry.” A silly grin came to her lips. He really did care!
A few minutes later, Winter slid down into the covers and was once more asleep.
* * *
Alistair was by Winter’s side when she awoke later that afternoon. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”
“Passable. Nasty headache.”
“The doctor said you’ll be fine now if you take it easy for a few days yet.”
“He was here then?”
“Less than an hour ago.” Alistair touched her cheek. “I need to talk with you, Winter. Are you up to a few questions?”
She nodded, but seemed to find it difficult to concentrate when he touched her.
“What happened on the hill? What did you see, hear?”
Closing her eyes, Winter spoke slowly. “Hoofbeats. I heard hoofbeats. Then a shot of some kind. Something hit Jupiter. I wasn’t ready when he reacted.”
“Why would someone want to hurt you?”
He witnessed realization in her eyes. “What is it? What do you know? You must tell me, Winter.”
“I...I don’t want to accuse anyone. I didn’t see anyone.”
“But you think you know who, don’t you? Was it Derik?”
Winter began to tremble, and Alistair slipped a reassuring arm about her shoulders. “Tell me about Derik.”
“Yes, I think it was Anthony. I...I did hear something, but not then. When I first returned home. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to reach you.”
“I know and I am sorry about that, but I am here now.”
Tensing, Winter pulled away and searched his face. “How do you feel about Mary? I’ve seen you together.”
“Hmm.” He eyed her, wondering how much to tell her.
“Are you in love with her?”
“Certainly not.”
“She is a spy, Justin. I heard her with Derik.”
This time Alistair stiffened. “How do you know this?”
“Mary and her husband accompanied me home. That night I overheard her and Anthony in the garden talking.”
Alistair’s voice hardened. “Did Anthony know you heard him?”
“It’s possible.” She sucked in a deep breath as though to steady herself. “I found out why he wanted to m-marry me.”
“I know.”
She stared into his face. “You know...how?”
“Mary told me.”
“But she’s a spy!”
“Yes, but for us, dearest, for us.”
Winter slumped against the pillows. “I am so glad. She isn’t just a maid, is she?”
“No, darling Winter.” He sighed, touched her cheek, his gaze soft again. “Mary is my sister-in-law.”
“Then Carlyle is...”
“My brother. Yes. Hollingsworth was closer to the truth than he knew. Actually he did spend some years in India, where he started to do undercover work for the government. When he was asked to do the same at home, we put out the rumor that he had died overseas.”
“Mary is a spy, too?”
“Hiding out for the time being.” He paused, then decided nothing but the full truth would do. “We have been trying to discover who is involved in stealing secrets and handing them over to the French. There is a leak somewhere.”
Winter gasped. “Our own people betraying us?”
“I fear so.”
“Lord Derik is one of them, isn’t he?” He could tell from her expression something suddenly clicked. “Do you think Hollingsworth is part of this?”
“Why do you ask?”
“The things he said to me. I suppose you keep private information in the library. That’s why he wanted to go there. I knew there had to be a reason.” She lowered her face.
Alistair lifted her quivering chin. “You have a very special loveliness, Winter. Two more questions, if I may.”
Feeling her weakness overcoming her, Winter nodded.
Slowly, his eyes on her face, he asked, “Do you still care for me? And, will you return to London with me?”
“I was wrong to leave as I did, Justin, and I am sorry,” Winter whispered. “I’ll do as you ask. I thought it would be the same when I came back, but nothing has been the same. I don’t belong here any longer. I don’t belong anywhere. I do not understand God’s plan at all.”
Her pain twisted his insides. “Oh, Winter. You do belong. God loves you very much.” He smiled. “You may not think so, but your faith and the words of the minister did bear fruit. I had a lot of time to get things straightened out with the Lord on the journey here. You see, you have been a witness for Him.”
Tears
gathered in her eyes. “Justin, you came back to Jesus.”
“I did.”
“Oh, Justin!” she cried as he gathered her in his arms.
Releasing her, he laid her gently against the pillows. “Are you tired, darling?”
“Happy.” Yawning, she admitted sheepishly, “Well, a little tired.”
Kissing her cheek, Alistair ordered, “Go to sleep, my little tiger. When you awake mayhap you’ll feel more the thing.”
“Are you going away again?”
“Not for long, darling, not for long.”
“I love you, Justin,” she murmured, her eyes closing. “Welcome to God’s family.”
* * *
That afternoon, the housekeeper and another maid helped her bathe. While Mrs. Duncan helped her into a fresh nightgown, a maid changed the bed.
Again she slept, not knowing Alistair had taken the roan and headed toward his country estate.
Chapter 13
Lord Alistair detoured to see Lord Derik. “How is she?” the viscount asked, pouring himself a drink from the grog tray in the corner. The viscount sat down, careful not to wrinkle his pantaloons.
Alistair sat unbidden opposite in a cane-back chair. “She will recover.”
Tossing down his drink, Derik faced Alistair. “I see. Does that precipitate the pleasure of this visit?”
“If you must know, it is more than that. I believe you well know Lady Renton overheard you and Mary talking in the garden. When Winter refused to marry you, the only other option was to silence her—permanently.”
Lord Derik smiled faintly. “You’ll never prove that.”
“Does it matter? All I need do is bring to the attention of the secretary your verbal admission of collusion with the French, and you will hang as a traitor.”
Lord Derik’s face paled, and his hand crept up to his neck. “Knowing that, you came to confront me. What if you disappeared?”
“You think I am so addle-brained as to come without letting my people know what I am about? As for Mary, how much would she take before she cracked?”
Wiping beads of sweat from his brow, Derik growled, “What do you want?”
A Proper Guardian Page 14