With Charlie undecided about his future intent, Joshua wished they could have joined the family for a few weeks in London during the Season. Caroline had suggested it as a way to help distract Charlie from his obsession with Bredenbridge. Now they would have to wait until they were a year older.
Joshua – I need to see you. It is urgent. I will be in the usual place. M
When the message came, Joshua headed straight for the hayloft. Usually, he met the dairymaid at dusk when the barn at the back of the stables was quiet. Today the midday sun lit the yard, and the stable block was alive with voices.
Scrambling up the ladder, he found the loft unusually dark after the brightness outside; then realised that the door over the yard through which stooks of hay were tossed, was closed. How stupid; it was always left open in the daytime.
“Millie,” he called into the gloom. “Where are you?”
There was no response. “Millie?” he called again, but there was no answer. “Oh well,” he said. “I’ll let some light in before someone gets hurt.”
As Joshua moved forward to sweep back the bolt, a sound arrested his progress – a giggle that brought a smile to his face. Teasing, tantalising and so erotic, he blundered into the darkness without considering the pitfalls. Stopping to listen halfway, he heard an intake of breath, and caught the hint of a familiar scent. He would know Millie anywhere.
He reached out, but she was before him, catching his hands and slipping them inside her open bodice, without even a shift to hinder them.
“What’s the matter,” he murmured, “couldn’t you wait until tonight?”
Words seemed beyond her, but the moan of ecstasy was eloquence enough. Joshua savoured the moment, caressing her breasts, feeling her nipples harden as passion rippled through her. He felt an answering response, deep within and heard her panting breath as she began to stroke his thighs. Slowly, then with increasing urgency, she moved to his belly and slid her hands deftly past the clothing barriers to arouse him to fever pitch.
Whatever the reason for the summons, it would have to wait for this was Millie as he had never known her. The gentle girl who normally yielded to his every need had become a wanton.
He stood, biting his lip, and let her take him to the heights of fantasy, just as an older, bolder woman had done in the bagnio. Then, with a low moan, she slid down to the floor, drawing him with her.
Determined to take control, Joshua exerted his strength and rolled her in the hay, tugging at her mobcap. Millie had too much of her own way with him, now it was his turn, but he knew the ghastly truth even as he heard an unmistakable crow of triumph and felt mortification wash over him.
Oh God, no… Not that…
His befuddled mind cleared like a bolt of lightning as the girl’s laugh confirmed his worst fears. Lax in the pursuit of his own pleasures, Joshua was, like most men, puritanical in the belief that women of the family did not behave likewise.
The realisation that, by some means, Sophie contrived to be with him in this act breached the unwritten code of conduct between friends. Sisters, or girls brought up as family were sacrosanct. He would no more have seduced his friend’s sister than his own.
“Get away from me, Sophie.” Revulsion goaded him to violence and he flung her across the floor, not caring how she landed, as long as it was far away from him.
Stunned by her feral behaviour, Joshua sat in the hay feeling sick with self-disgust and berating himself for not acknowledging the difference. The trouble was he was so used to meeting Millie and the suspicion never entered his head that Sophie might seek to take her place.
It was only when he gathered his disordered wits together and climbed down to the lower floor that he realised where his tormentor had gone.
“You bastard, Norbery – what the bloody hell do you think you’ve been doing to my sister?” The harsh voice came from nowhere.
Joshua saw Charlie standing in the doorway, riding crop in hand, his expression satanic. Sophie stood beside him, and smirked, while in her red-tipped fingers, she held back the tattered edges of her bodice to reveal several scratches gouged across her chest.
He was appalled, knowing that Sophie must have inflicted the marks herself to spite him for the rejection. “She wasn’t like that when she left me,” he burst out, but realised his mistake even as he uttered the words.
The riding crop struck full force across his face, splitting his lip and knocking him sideways against the wall. Stunned disbelief turned to anger with Sophie, and then erupted into action as Charlie raised his hand to take a second strike. He was damned if he would be thrashed like a dog.
Conscious thought disappeared as Joshua launched himself at his attacker. William Rufus had taught them discipline in practice sessions, but they had never before fought in anger.
This was real. It was vicious and Charlie was beyond reason.
It started as a scrabbling bout, sparring wildly, with both hampered by their coats as one aimed to inflict punishment, the other to protect himself and hold his opponent back until he tired. Then they might talk sense.
Despite Joshua being taller with the longer reach, Charlie was solid and threw a couple of punches to the head that made his eyes water. Time after time, Charlie milled in again, fists flying or aiming his foot. Joshua took a pummelling, then sidestepped, caught the outstretched boot and threw his opponent sideways to the ground, where he landed with a sickening thud, grasping his elbow. Pain creased Charlie’s face, but he refused to acknowledge it as he struggled, wheezing, to his feet.
Joshua stood upright first. The blood from his split lip was the least of his troubles now. His ribcage, fore and aft, was a mass of hurt, and he could hardly breathe for the pain.
Suddenly, Charlie scrabbled away through the stable door and snatched up a hoof-paring knife, with a vicious blade that could slice through leather.
“Now I’ll deal with you as you deserve, Joshua Norbery,” he said with a humourless laugh, as he returned to the attack, slashing the air back and forth.
Joshua backed away without taking his eyes from Charlie’s face. He saw murder there, and knew only his death would satisfy the lust for revenge. Somewhere in the background, he heard jeering and saw vague shapes moving forward through the corner of his eye. He dared not blink in case it gave Cobarne an advantage to gore him like a bull.
From nowhere, a commanding voice roared, “What is the meaning of this disgraceful exhibition? Stop this nonsense at once.”
Relief almost swept Joshua’s legs from under him as his father entered the stable-yard astride his big bay gelding. But it was short-lived, for Charlie, distracted by hands that grabbed him from behind, swung out in his rage and caught Ed Salter a glancing blow to the face. Joshua, standing only a foot away, felt the man’s pain on impact, and saw blood spurting out as the knife dropped from Charlie’s fingers, and clattered on the cobbles, from where one of the grooms snatched it up out of harm’s way.
“I didn’t mean it,” Charlie said in a voice hoarse with shock, and was promptly sick on the ground, but no one took any notice. Everyone’s attention was on the groom rolling on the floor, screaming with pain, the side of his face a mass of blood.
“I don’t care whether you meant it or not,” Tom Norbery blazed at them as he dismounted. “Get out of my sight, the pair of you, and don’t speak to each other until I call you.”
“He raped Sophie,” Charlie protested.
“No, I didn’t, she – ” Joshua, similarly sickened by the sight, interrupted.
“I haven’t time to listen to your bickering, this man needs help,” Squire Norbery snapped, as someone led his horse away. “You,” he said to one of the grooms who looked on. “Ride to Middlebrook surgery for the physician. Tell him that there’s been an accident and I need his services immediately.” To another, he said, “Ask Miss Jane and Jessie to bring clean dressings for the wound, quickly.”
He stripped off his gloves and pressed a couple of clean folded handkerchiefs to the
man’s face.
Joshua and Charlie looked on in stunned silence as Squire Norbery said over his shoulder to the assembled gathering, “Not a word of this situation leaves the yard. The man has been kicked by a horse. Is that clear?”
There was a murmur of assent as Joshua and Charlie slunk away to sit in their rooms, a mere fifteen feet apart with the interlinking door locked and the key removed to prevent access, where normally it opened at will from both sides. Now the door was a barrier.
Quite how they reached the house, Joshua couldn’t remember. Side by side, he thought, but several feet apart as if repelled.
Time seemed endless. It was torture to be isolated, not knowing the outcome, and even luncheon, without which they normally could not survive, was left uneaten.
Having hastily washed and changed his dirty clothes, Joshua lay on his bed, listening to Charlie walking around the floor in the adjoining room. The footsteps stopped at the door, and the handle half-turned, before the steps resumed their endless pacing. He felt bereft, for there had scarcely been a day since Charlie’s arrival when they had not talked endlessly.
Joshua went to his side of the door, wondering whether to rattle the doorknob. He reached out to touch but the realization that it might have been him lying in Ed Salter’s place stopped him. What maggot in Sophie’s brain possessed her to behave as she did? He wondered where she was. He couldn’t hear her talking to Charlie, so assumed that she must be in her own room across the corridor.
He couldn’t remember whether she was still in the stable-yard when his father arrived. If not, he wondered if she was aware of the consequences of her actions. Somehow, he thought that she would care, for the grooms were her friends.
Joshua closed his eyes and then opened them, hearing again his father’s voice, as he leapt from his horse and strode forward. “Silence,” Tom Norbery had bellowed, “Get out of my sight. This man’s injury is more important than your petty squabbles.”
He had never known his father be so angry, but he realised that at a stroke, Tom Norbery had quelled Charlie’s accusations, and ensured that no one had time to listen. The grooms sprang into action, responding to their master’s orders and their wounded colleague’s need. For that he was grateful, but he felt anger at his stupidity for being caught in a coil not of his making.
Ed Salter’s injury should never have happened. The sight of blood sickened him, but not so much as the accusation of rape – and of whom? It was incredible that a girl of Sophie’s age should have carnal knowledge of the kind that he gained from a harlot in a bagnio. From where had she acquired it?
Honesty told him that, even in the darkness, he should have realised it wasn’t Millie. Her breasts would have overflowed his hands, whereas Sophie…
Joshua would have given anything to erase the memory of how responsive her pert nipples were, and the lustful feelings generated when she touched him. It was just as the Contessa had said. Damn the woman. That ensured he could never look Sophie Cobarne in the face without embarrassment; or Charlie without regret.
Three hours later, Squire Norbery summoned them downstairs. They emerged from their separate rooms at the same time, but neither spoke nor exchanged glances.
In the library, Joshua’s father sat at the desk writing, and continued for several minutes without acknowledging their presence as they stood before him.
“How’s Ed?” said Joshua, hating the silence.
“The wound has been stitched, and he is under sedation, but where there are horses, there is always a risk of lockjaw,” Tom Norbery said, looking from one to the other. “Now I want an explanation for the vulgar display of brawling that precipitated that poor man’s injuries. I hope you realise that you have both brought shame on Linmore by your actions. Charlie, I would like you to explain for what reason you picked up a hoof-paring knife as a weapon.”
“He raped Sophie,” Charlie repeated the accusation.
“No, I didn’t,” Joshua interrupted, “she –”
“One at a time,” Tom Norbery barked out. “You, Joshua, will be silent and allow Charlie to explain, and he will remain mute when your turn comes.”
When Charlie hung his head, Tom Norbery said, “In that case, I will ask questions. When did this incident take place?”
“It was late morning, and Sophie came out of the hayloft with her clothes in tatters. She told me that Joshua had –”
“Yes, as you said before, that he had molested her. Can you recall which clothes she was wearing at the time? I must ask you to bear with me, for I think it could be relevant,” he said, drumming his fingers on the desk.
“I’ve not seen them before,” said Charlie, with a puzzled frown. “I didn’t know she had any like them.”
Joshua watched as his father reached down behind his desk to lift a tattered, dirty white bodice and a skirt with blue stripes. “Would these be the ones?”
“Yes, that’s what she was wearing,” Charlie said in triumph.
Tom Norbery nodded. “These were given to me by Millie, the dairymaid, who found them dumped in the dairy after luncheon, apparently having been borrowed from her earlier in the day by your sister.”
“She’s lying. Sophie had no reason to wear such clothes.”
“I would agree with you, Charlie. No reason at all, except that she was wearing them with black riding boots when she climbed the hay-loft ladder this morning. Boots that no dairymaid would wear, clearly visible under a striped skirt made for a shorter woman. She was seen by one of the coachmen. He also noticed that the door of the pitch-hole over the yard was closed before Joshua’s arrival, ten minutes later.”
“No,” said Charlie, appalled. “You’re making excuses because he’s your son.”
Squire Norbery gave an exasperated sigh, and rubbed both hands over his eyes. “No, I am saying it because it is the truth as I was told by a particular groom who had no reason to lie, and an extremely irate dairymaid who will have to be found new clothes to wear at work. I will call her to speak for herself,” he said in a weary voice, and rang a handbell.
The door opened immediately, and a footman looked into the room.
“Hayton, please ask Millie to come in, and request Miss Jane to bring Sophie.”
“No,” said Charlie in rush. “I won’t have her interrogated.”
“Very commendable, if you think it would injure her sensibilities, but I fear she has none. Never mind, I have already spoken with her and she claims to have no recollection of the time to which this relates,” Tom Norbery said, watching Charlie’s look of astonishment. “Hayton,” he said aside. “I trust that you know how to keep your tongue between your teeth. This is not for servants’ hall gossip.”
“Beg pardon, sir?” said the footman with the air of one afflicted with deafness.
“Good man. Now send in Millie, and wait outside.”
Millie entered the room looking concerned, and then glowered at Charlie and gave Joshua a quick smile of support. She inspected the clothes on the floor, and confirmed without hesitation that they were the same ones borrowed by Sophie. No, she hadn’t asked for what purpose they were required, because she hadn’t thought it was her place to question what the gentry did. But in the light of all the trouble it caused, she was of a different opinion, as she quickly told Charlie.
“That sister of yours ought to be ashamed of herself, borrowing my clothes to entrap a young man, and then to ruin them. Unlike her, I don’t have any more to replace them,” she said, a picture of moral indignation.
“Millie…” Squire Norbery warned, but the woman hadn’t finished.
“If I’d known she would do what she did when you two was off on your travels, I’d have told her to sling her hook, and find summat better to do with her time. Calls herself a lady,” she said in a voice full of scorn. “She’s no better than the light-skirts who walk the streets in Norcott Town.”
“You’re lying,” said Charlie, outraged.
“No, I’m not,” she retorted, “as anybody
who was here before she was bundled off to school will tell you. I never thought to see such goings on at Linmore.”
“Be quiet, the pair of you,” snapped Squire Norbery.
Joshua was agog with curiosity, while Charlie, separated from him by the length of the desk, quivered with anger, as the dairymaid lapsed into silence.
“That will be all, Millie. I will ensure that your garments are replaced,” said Squire Norbery. “But remember, I do not wish you to repeat a single word of what has passed in this room to anyone. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said the dairymaid with a sniff as she bobbed her knees. “I beg pardon for speaking out of turn, but I’m that moithered by what ’appened, and didn’t want Joshua to be blamed when it wasn’t his fault.”
“Nor will you discuss anything of what occurred outside today.” Tom Norbery’s voice was icy cold. “You may go, but I will speak again with you on this matter later.”
Suitably chastened, the woman bobbed her knees and scurried from the room.
Tom Norbery let out an exasperated sigh as the door closed behind her.
“We will be extremely lucky to keep this unpleasant episode quiet,” he said. “Now we will proceed with something that should have been resolved last year when you returned from Europe. I thought it best after Matthew’s death to leave the pair of you together, but evidently I was mistaken.” His tone expressed his disappointment.
In fact, they were rarely together, for Sophie had introduced Charlie to her school friend in Bredenbridge, and he made frequent visits in the intervening months to see the girl that he called his goddess.
“You, Charlie, will join the army and be trained to use weapons properly. That, as far as the household is concerned, is why you will go to London. It has ever been your intention and only Matthew’s death delayed it.”
“What will happen to him?” Charlie interrupted in a truculent tone. “Why should he get off without punishment?”
Tom quelled the outburst with a glare. “Joshua will leave Linmore for a different destination, but the fewer people that know the true reason for your separation the better. If it were a simple case of the two of you brawling over some wanton farm wench, I would flog the pair of you and be done with it. But the minute Joshua was stupid enough to go to the hayloft, for whatever reason, and you in your anger picked up a knife, you did so with intent.” Tom Norbery let the words sink in before he continued. “Personally, I believe that you were both victims of the same misguided notion of a prank that went horribly wrong, and it could get worse if Ed Salter’s wound becomes infected. An inch higher, he might have lost his eye, but if the wound goes septic, he could lose his life.
Brothers at Arms Page 27