by Nicole Byrd
“I fear not,” Adrian replied. “I’m sure he will return, after he has bandaged his wound and perhaps taken a brief respite to recover. Which means that I am the one who will have to put a distance between us. I must not allow anyone here to be threatened by my presence.”
“I don’t care for that!” Maddie exclaimed, unable to be silent while Adrian exiled himself from her out of an excess of caution.
He turned toward her, and with his back to the others glanced at her belly. “You know that I must,” he told her gently, his look a silent rebuke, though he doubtless did not mean it so. It was a reminder that she was now responsible for two lives, not just her own. How could she risk their child’s life so recklessly? Throwing away her own without thought, in order to stay close to the man she loved, was one thing. Putting their first baby in harm’s way was quite another.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered, trying to blink away the sudden moisture that blurred her image of his face.
“I know,” he said, putting one hand up to cradle her cheek, “but I have no choice, nor do you.”
For a moment they stood thus and no one spoke, then he stepped back. “I must go up and pack,” he said. “I will leave when it is full dark. There is a quarter moon tonight; it will be enough to get a safe distance from the village.”
“Where will you go?” she asked, her voice sounding strange past the lump in her throat.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “As far and as fast as I can. The most important thing is to lead him away from here and those I hold dear.”
Her father wheeled his chair closer. “You know I wish you Godspeed, and even more I wish this was not necessary, Weller,” he said, putting out his hand. “If I can do anything to help, just send word.”
“Thank you, sir.” They shook hands.
“Thank you for all your help, my lord,” Felicity told him. “I will pray for your safety.”
He bowed to them and then headed upstairs. Maddie lingered only to take the tea when Bess brought it, and to instruct their maidservant to make up a packet of food for Adrian to take with him. Then she followed him up to the bedchamber.
Her heart aching, she did what she could to help, folding his garments and smoothing them with hands that sometimes trembled.
He told her again about his estate, his man of business, his solicitor, and gave her papers with all the names and directions written carefully down. The ache in her throat made it impossible to answer, but she nodded and smiled at him, trying not to allow the tears to slip out.
He touched her stomach gently, cupping his hand over it and leaning down to kiss it. “Tell your father when you judge the time is right. Put something in the Yorkshire papers when the babe is born, with what you have decided to name it, so I can hear,” he said.
He did not plan to return even for the birth of his first child? His only child if he never returned, she thought with a strange formless panic.
Stammering and awkward, she tried to ask, “B-but, Adrian, w-will you not be coming back by then?”
He closed his saddlebags and set them on the rug, then took both her hands in his larger ones. She could feel the callouses from long hours of riding, the strength in his hands, reassuring when she thought of him riding out to face a killer.
“I will come back if I am able, Madeleine. When he threatened you in the church, I knew—nightmares of blood, or not—that I would kill him in a fair fight as soon as I was able. I must see his face; I cannot shoot him in the back.”
She nodded.
“But before I risk a confrontation, I must lead him away from here. If by bad luck, he should best me—he doesn’t always fight fair…”
That was an understatement, she thought.
“I cannot have my cousin coming back here, in his madness, to harm you. I want you to draw upon the resources of my estate and set up more servants and more protection for you and your father, do you understand?”
She nodded again.
“I will draw him away, then I will feel more assured about how we may proceed.”
His tone was reserved, and she was not sure if he believed his own statement, if he really expected to see her again, alive, or not. And then there were the bullet fragments, waiting killers in his own body!
While she tried to think how to argue—they had not time to waste—he pulled her quickly into an embrace, one arm about her shoulders while he kissed her. She put her hands about his neck and kissed him with all her might. For long seconds, the kiss took all her attention, and while he held her close, Maddie could forget everything else. Kissing Adrian was the world.
He pulled away, leaning back only to brush his lips against the top of her head.
“My darling, you are my deepest center,” he whispered, “where the universe begins, and love is eternal.”
And then he was gone.
Would she ever see him alive again?
Too weak with fear even to take two steps to the bed, she sank to the floor, put her face into her hands, and wept.
For several days Maddie went about in a fog, too dazed with grief and fear for her husband to worry about her own safety. The would-be assassin had undoubtably followed Adrian’s trail; she was sure Adrian had made it obvious that he was leaving the village. Only when he was past Ripon would he begin to hide his footsteps, he had told her. If only he had gotten that far without incident, she told herself, tossing in her lonely bed at night as she worried and fretted.
During the day she wrote letters to his solicitor and man of business, as Adrian had instructed her to do, enclosing his own letters of instruction, and waited for the funds with which they would add more men to protect themselves. She did not intend to move to Adrian’s estate. To go there without him would feel like encroachment, and she had not married him for his land or wealth—she had not even considered that he might have money or titles. The fact that she was now Lady Weller still seemed very strange. The only time she found it quite satisfying was when Mrs. Masham came to call.
Only on Felicity’s urging did she even let their annoying neighbor in, that and the knowledge that she could not hide forever. She welcomed the matron with as much politeness as she could muster.
“Lady Weller is in,” she heard Felicity say smoothly as she ushered their neighbor into the sitting room.
It was all Maddie could do to keep a straight face. She tried to smile naturally as she motioned Mrs. Masham to a chair. The ridiculous thing was that the woman looked impressed. Maddie had not changed a whit, nor had the slightly shabby chair to which their neighbor was now applying her broad posterior.
“I am so relieved to see you quite safe,” their visitor said, sitting down primly. “I mean, the gypsies do seem to have left the area, although Mrs. Grey swears she has glimpsed a shaggy-haired stranger around their barn, but—”
“Really?” Felicity cut in, her voice sharp. “Is she sure? When was that?”
“That’s what she said.” Mrs. Masham was choosing a piece of Bess’s shortbread. “Just three days ago, I heard. But it was only one man, and everyone knows that the gypsies travel in packs, like wild dogs, don’t y’know?”
“I suppose so,” Felicity said, but now she seemed to be looking at something over their visitor’s shoulder. Perhaps it was Bess, who had just brought in the tea tray. Felicity stood and helped put the dishes on the round table.
“But one hardly feels safe in one’s own home, I vow. And after that alarming episode in the church during your first attempt at a wedding ceremony. I know our poor vicar is still talking about it, poor man.”
“Yes, it was frightening. I’m afraid the man who invaded the church must be quite demented,” Maddie said. She turned to pour the steaming liquid into cups. This allowed her to hide her face as she tried to think of a way to change the subject, but as usual, Mrs. Masham was about as easy to lead as a charging bull.
“That was obvious!” The matron rolled her eyes. “Imagine threatening me! Still, no one was hurt, thank
God. And I was most sorry not to witness your actual wedding ceremony, but I’m sure it was quite proper.”
Maddie thought of the vicar in his dressing gown and nightcap, but she nodded. “Just so.”
“I do feel for you, however, deprived of the support of your many friends and neighbors.” The matron gave a gusty sigh.
Since Maddie could not very well point out that she withstood that loss surprisingly well, she thought it best to remain silent.
“I do find it odd that your brand-new husband has departed the area already,” the visitor said next, raising her brows and giving her arch smile. “One hopes that the bliss of married life is all that he has hoped for?”
That was too much even from the tart-tongued gossip.
“I’m afraid he had urgent business to attend to,” Maddie said, keeping her voice level with some effort.
“It must be urgent indeed to take him away from his blushing bride,” Mrs. Masham responded, almost purring.
“Oh, it is,” Maddie told her, taking a sip of her tea and throwing all sense of propriety to the wind. “He is seeking diamond jewelry sufficient to drown me in.”
Mrs. Masham almost dropped her teacup. “Oh?” she squeaked.
“Yes,” Maddie said, unrepentant. “He is quite determined to drape me in jewels like an Indian rani. He says I am an empress in his eyes, so it will be only proper.”
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Masham said, her slightly protruding eyes open wide. She looked as if she was soaking up every word, which Maddie knew would be repeated at every house the matron had access to.
Oh, who cared, she was well into it, now. “He’ll probably bring back emeralds and rubies, as well.”
“And perhaps pearls, but no jade or lapis or coral, Lady Weller does not wish anything that might be considered common,” Felicity put in helpfully.
Mrs. Masham put one hand up to the coral beads at her throat. “Oh, I see,” she said. “And I suppose you’ll be departing for London, soon, to stock up on the latest fashions?”
“When it suits me,” Maddie said, her tone offhand.
“Ah, I should be going. I’m sure you have many plans to make,” their visitor said. She stood almost too quickly and swayed a moment, in her eagerness to start spreading her newly acquired stock of gossip. “And I have a few stops to make on the way home.”
“Good afternoon, then,” Maddie told her.
Felicity said good-bye, and their neighbor hurried off as Bess showed her to the front door.
“I am a terrible person,” Maddie told her friend after the sitting room door was safely closed.
Felicity laughed, but in a moment, she sobered. “I think those who know you will know better than to believe such nonsense as what she will be tattering about. But, Madeline, if the gypsies have departed—”
“Who is the man with the shaggy hair? Yes, I noticed that. Can you imagine that Mrs. Masham may have actually said something useful?” Maddie took a sip of her cooling tea. “Do you think it is the same man that you saw at your cottage before the fire?”
“I don’t know, but it’s an alarming coincidence.” Felicity frowned at the fire in the hearth, which was growing low. She stood up and put another log on. “Perhaps I need to find another cottage to let, so that I can move out sooner rather than later.”
“You know what Papa said about that. He likes having you here,” Maddie pointed out. “He says you’re almost as good a chess player as Adrian, and very intelligent to talk to, not to mention much prettier than my husband”—she grinned at the widow—“though you may allow me to differ on that last opinion.”
Felicity looked self-conscious. “Your father is too kind. I was only trying to help him pass the time, Madeline, since Lord Weller had to depart. I didn’t mean—”
“I think it’s marvelous that you two get along so well, Felicity, truly. Papa would worry about you if you ended up in another lonely cottage. I certainly enjoy your company, and Adrian wants us to have more people here with us, not fewer. So please don’t rush away just yet.”
“Oh, I would certainly not abandon you,” Felicity said, looking appalled at the thought. “When you have been so kind and done so much to help me! It’s just, if I should bring more danger to you—”
“How on earth would you do that?” Maddie demanded.
“If”—Felicity gripped her hands together—“It’s complicated to explain. When I hear from my cousin, I should know. Then I will tell you the whole story, Madeline. I never meant to deceive you, I promise you.” And with that enigmatic statement, she turned and hurried up the staircase.
Good gracious, Maddie thought. But when she sat down again, as usual, her thoughts turned to Adrian. Where was he tonight? In an inn or alone in a cold forest, stalked by his mad cousin? Oh, my darling, she thought. What strange and lonely kind of marriage is this?
She had almost forgotten that the union had ever been meant only as a convenience, as a way to save her name and her reputation. Now she had that, true enough, and a title and easy wealth to boot. She would also, if all went well, have a healthy child—a little part of Adrian to keep with her—that thought did make her heart sing. Perhaps a boy who would have his father’s strong good looks, or a girl with his dark hair and fair skin? Except for the child, she would trade it all to have her husband himself back with her.
Staring into the fire as it leaped and danced, she forgot everything else and allowed the afternoon to slip away.
A week after Adrian had left, Maddie and Felicity walked down to the village to buy some thread and see if the post office had any mail for them. The last few days had been quiet, and Maddie was hopeful that all dangers had flown. She was also hopeful that Adrian might send her a letter telling her that he was in one piece, still evading his cousin. Even a short note would make her feel so much better.
To her disappointment, the only mail addressed to their residence was a few bills for her father. Felicity, on the other hand, had a letter directed to her. The postmaster looked at her curiously, as the widow normally received very little correspondence.
“Got an admirer, have ye, Mrs. Barlow?” He gave her a leering grin.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” was her only answer.
They took their letters and swept out into the street where other shoppers moved up and down. Felicity broke the wax seal and unfolded the single sheet of paper, pausing on the pavement to scan the closely written lines of script.
“Oh, dear heaven,” she muttered. “It is as I feared, Madeline. We must get home. I must talk to your father. I regret I am going to have to leave the village.”
“Why on earth?” Maddie demanded. Then, glancing about them, she saw several nearby women, expressions inquisitive, slowing their steps to listen to this interesting bit of conversation.
“No, you’re right, we cannot talk here.” She put her own mail into her shopping basket with the skeins of thread she had purchased and turned back toward home. They set a smart pace. Maddie was impatient to hear what had creased Felicity’s brow and brought such a look of concern to her face.
As they left the village behind and climbed a small hill, Maddie experienced a sense of unease, as if someone was watching them. She could almost feel the pressure of eyes boring into the small of her back.
Looking toward Felicity who was a few steps in front, Maddie wondered if the other woman felt the same. “Do you—” she began, when a sudden sharp whine interrupted. The leaves in front of her ripped and a few pieces of greenery floated to the ground.
Maddie gasped, and Felicity gave a small shriek. This time, Maddie knew what the sound and the near miss meant.
“Run!” she exclaimed. She grabbed her friend’s hand, and they both dashed through the copse of trees, hoping to evade the shooter’s angle of vision.
Fortunately, it was only a short distance to the Applegate residence, and Maddie had played in these woods all her life. She led Felicity off the path and over the grassy knolls. They traveled a slightly longer
route than necessary, but it seemed prudent to take a less obvious path.
When at last the Applegate residence came into view, it looked peaceful and quiet, a refuge in every way.
“Thank goodness,” Maddie muttered. “Surely we have lost him. I cannot believe he is still here—I thought he would have followed Adrian off. Perhaps if the mad cousin has returned, Adrian has come back to check on us?” She felt a moment of hope.
“It may not be what you think, Madeline,” Felicity told her, holding her side and panting a little from their long run.
“Let us get inside where it is safe and get some tea, and then you may tell us what you wish. I warn you, Felicity, if it has to do with moving out, however, Papa is not going to take kindly to it.”
Felicity threw her a troubled glance, but didn’t try to explain just yet, and they both hurried to the front door. Maddie opened it without bothering to knock; she knew that Bess would be expecting them back and would not have the door bolted.
The front hall was empty and quiet, just as Maddie thought it would be. Her father might already be having his afternoon rest. Bess was probably in the kitchen. If they had missed lunch, Bess would have left some cold meat and bread and butter out for them, she thought. Then she heard a slight noise from the sitting room.
Her father rarely used that room; it was most often the province of the females of the family or used to entertain visitors. Had someone called?
She put her shopping basket on the hall table, glancing into the looking glass over it to make sure she was reasonably presentable. Her cheeks were pink from the brisk pace of their walk home, but she could do nothing about that, and the color would fade. She pushed a stray lock of hair back into place, then turned toward the sitting room.
“I will see about some tea,” Felicity said. “Then I will explain it all.” She turned toward the kitchen.
Maddie nodded. She walked into the room and stopped in surprise. Her father sat in his wheeled chair a little to the side of the fireplace, his expression hard to read. On the other side of the fire, standing back against the wall behind the edge of the brick hearth, stood a man.