‘Like this?’ she asked eventually, stepping forward.
He nodded. ‘Exactly like that.’
It felt almost as she had imagined wearing trousers must be like, and had often wished she had been born a boy instead of a girl. How stupid society was to insist that girls wore full skirts and layers of petticoats – such impractical clothes for country pursuits!
She grinned, partly to cover her embarrassment. ‘How sensible,’ she declared.
It was still hard work, but she was able to make progress and once they were on the narrow path, it was much easier. Even so, she was greatly relieved when she reached her gig. Her arms ached – her whole body ached – but they weren’t home and dry yet. She let down the tailgate of the gig and, with Lord Rockhaven using the strength in his arms and Lucy placing his legs in the right position, with much pulling and pushing, he eventually lay sprawled in an undignified manner on the floor of the gig.
‘There’s some bread and milk in that basket,’ she told him, as she climbed stiffly up on to the driving seat. ‘That will help you regain some strength.’
It was only a few minutes back along the track to the turn-off for the cottage. Bruno had scampered ahead and had rushed around the cobbled yard, nose to the ground. He now stood barking outside the door of the outbuilding. Lucy wondered why there was no response from Solomon. She drove as close to the outbuilding as she could and, as she jumped down from the gig, a glance in the dog pen showed her why Solomon was silent: his body lay amidst a pool of blood. She felt sick. His throat had been cut.
She looked away, unable to bear the sight. But it was no time for feminine weakness. The whereabouts of Staines was the main problem and she took a step towards the outbuilding.
‘Help me down!’ Theo demanded. He, too, had seen the body of his dog and his face was taut. He didn’t want Lucy to be the one to discover Staines’s body.
Lucy hesitated. She knew what was in his mind. Bruno was alternately barking and whining, his nose snuffling at the lower edge of the door.
‘Do as I say!’ Theo commanded.
Lucy went to the rear of the gig and let down the rear rail. Using her shoulder to support him, Theo managed to stay on his feet as he slithered out of the gig. She climbed up into the gig and lowered the chair down beside Theo and held it steady as he seated himself in it.
‘Right! Let’s see what’s what!’ he said grimly. He wished he could spare her this, but he knew he couldn’t physically manage it on his own. ‘Open the door and push me in.’
It took a short while for their eyes to adjust to the dim interior but, before that happened, they knew from a throaty groan that at least Staines was still alive, even though badly injured. He lay sprawled on the floor, his face bloody and his body twisted in an unnatural position.
‘We need help,’ Lucy declared as she knelt beside him. ‘I can’t move him and neither can you. He’s lost a lot of blood. He’ll die if we can’t stop the bleeding.’
‘He’ll die if we leave him,’ Theo said just as firmly. ‘Go and get some water and look for some clean cloths. The cleaner we get him, the better chance he’ll have.’
Lucy found a pail of water in the cottage and used a knife to tear up her petticoat into strips of cloth. Under Theo’s instruction, she cut open Staines’s jacket and shirt to find where his injuries were, washed them as best she could and then bound them with the strips of cloth. He had multiple knife wounds, but they seemed to have missed vital organs. Staines groaned throughout her ministrations but was barely conscious. His body was badly bruised and his right leg was twisted at a peculiar angle – Lucy knew it was broken – and what was left of his right hand was a mess of pulped flesh.
‘Stamped on and ground into the floor,’ Theo said tersely, seeing her puzzled stare.
Lucy felt faint. She had never seen such injuries. She was exhausted. She sat back on her heels and wiped her hand across her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Tears streaked her face, though she didn’t realize it. Theo reached out and stroked his thumb across her cheek.
‘Well done, my little one,’ he murmured. ‘I think you’ve done all you can for now. He needs a doctor, but it’s too far for you to go in your gig. Who do you know who can be trusted implicitly? Who are your family? What about them?’
‘They are away, visiting Lady Somerfield in Kent. There are a few servants left behind. I think they would be loyal to you, but I can’t be certain. I think I know someone in the village … a Mrs Boulton, who speaks well of your mother.’
‘Is Georgie Boulton related to her?’
‘Her husband.’
‘Good. He’ll do. Tell him to go to Dr Fortesque and request that he comes here as soon as he can … tonight would be better but I daren’t leave Staines unattended until then. Tell him to ask the doctor to bring a suitable carriage. Swear him to secrecy and tell Boulton to make sure my cousin has left the area, and to make sure he isn’t followed, especially when coming here. When he’s done that, ask him to choose someone entirely trustworthy to bring with him, but not to let anyone else know what he is doing. The fewer who know, the better.’
‘Where will you go then? It isn’t very safe here.’
‘I haven’t quite decided yet. I need to think things through carefully. Now, before you go’ – his voice dropped, edged with tenderness – ‘dip that cloth into some clean water and hand it to me.’
Lucy did so, wondering what he wanted it for.
Theo smiled. ‘Lean down a bit. A bit closer. That’s it.’ He reached up and gently wiped her cheeks and across her forehead. ‘That’s better.’ He smiled and it lit his features. ‘Wash your hands and then tidy your hair. You look all in. Are you sure you are up to going to the village? I wouldn’t ask it of you, but there’s no other way.’
‘I’ll be fine. Where shall I leave you until help gets here?’
‘I’ll stay here with Staines. Bruno won’t let anyone get close without warning me and, just to be extra sure, would you mind opening that cupboard over there? That’s right. Carefully hand me the pistol you should find within. Thank you. Now, if you’ll move me into that corner behind the door, I’ll be able to see anyone who comes in before they see me.’ He gave a hard laugh. ‘Better warn Boulton to come in carefully!’
‘May I come back? After I’ve seen the Boultons?’
‘Better not, for I have no doubt that Piers will be back. He murdered my brother and has seriously harmed my good friend. He has gone too far to leave it there, but, next time, I will be ready for him.’
He took hold of her hand and Lucy wondered if he was going to kiss it again, but he didn’t. He held it for a moment and stroked his fingers along its length a few times.
‘Take care, Miss Lucy Templeton and, as you said yesterday, may God go with you.’
‘And may He stay with you,’ she whispered, as she straightened her body. Her throat felt too tight to say more and she hurried away, anxious to complete her allotted task, hoping she didn’t meet too many people who might wonder at the state of her.
Ten
LUCY ENTERED THE village with her senses alert, determined that, if Piers Potterill were still in the area, she would know it. Her frequent visits throughout the past week or so had made her presence accepted without query and she received a number of cheery acknowledgements. However, unsure whether or not her physical appearance would stand up to too close a scrutiny, she didn’t stop until she reached the Boultons’ cottage.
‘Eh, miss! Whatever—?’
Lucy held up her hand, cutting short Mrs Boulton’s exclamation of surprise. ‘May I come in, Mrs Boulton? I know I seem rather dishevelled but I need your assistance … and that of your husband. Is he available?’
‘Eeh, bless yer, miss, he’s harvesting at Gerard’s farm. Shall I send fer him?’
‘Please, but say nothing to alarm him or anyone else. Just say something like he is needed at home.’
‘I’ll send our Johnny. He’s a fast runner. Now sit yer
down, miss, and let me mek you a cup of tea, an’ I’ll get a brush fer your hair, miss. Eh, whatever has happened? You look fair done in.’
Lucy briefly told her as much as she felt necessary and let the concerned woman make her a little more tidy. Later, when Georgie Boulton hastened in, his face flushed with his exertions, she repeated the tale.
‘I be honoured to help ’is lordship, miss, and don’t fret none. I know any number to choose from to give a ’and. Now you get yerself back to yon lodge, miss, and put yer feet up. Leave it to us men. We’ll see to ’is lordship, and sort yon upstart out, we will, or my name’s not Georgie Boulton.’
Lucy was thankful to return home. Cook was curious about her long absence, but Lucy made the excuse that she had spent her time with Mrs Boulton and hadn’t been aware of how long she had been there. She was glad Mrs Boulton had helped her to tidy up her appearance and Cook seemed unaware of the stains on her carriage gown. She knew her sister would notice the stains and tears and resolved to get it brushed and sponged down before Marissa’s return … but not today. She was too tired to work out a strategy to avoid too many questions.
Not that Cook was completely blind to the irregularities of Lucy’s behaviour. ‘I’ll be glad when the master and mistress are back and no mistake,’ Cook now admonished her, with the familiarity only an old family retainer would dare to assume. ‘You young folk today have far too much liberty. It didn’t happen in my day, I can tell you! Young ladies knew what was expected of them, not like today!’
Lucy tried to look suitably chastened and asked for a tray to be sent up to her room before making her escape, thankful that she didn’t have a maid to make excuses to, though she was sure Susie would have relished the excitement of her last few hours.
She sighed at the state of her hands as she slipped out of her dress. They were scratched and blistered and felt quite sore. She slipped into Marissa’s room and borrowed a pot of her rose-scented salve, knowing she wouldn’t mind. When she was little, Marissa used to enjoy dressing her up in her nice clothes and letting her try out her creams and powders, painting her face and curling her hair, until Lucy tired of sitting still. Ten minutes later, she would look more like a ragamuffin than the daughter of a peer of the realm unlike Marissa who never had a curl out of place and had never ever torn her dress! They were totally unalike, but they had been very close and attached to each other until Marissa’s marriage took her away from the family home.
Smiling at childhood memories, Lucy changed into a comfortable day dress, then lay on her bed and gently applied a lavish amount of the delicately perfumed cream to the palms of her hands, reflecting over the events of that day.
She had known a mixture of terror, excitement, despair over her lack of physical strength and satisfaction that she hadn’t handled the situation too badly. Oh, why were women so restricted in what they were allowed to do! If she were a man, she would still be there, making plans with Theo and making sure that Piers got his just deserts.
Her thoughts sobered. Piers Potterill had shown himself to be a ruthless adversary. Would that give him an advantage over Theo, who, she was certain, wouldn’t stoop to any dishonourable act? What would Theo decide to do after he had moved Staines to a place of safety? How could he get the better of his cousin without coming to any harm himself? In a fair fight, she was sure he would win, but Piers had shown himself to have scant regard for honour and chivalry. He wouldn’t wait until they were standing face to face. He had already shot both brothers in the back and then denounced them as cowards! She was sure his next attempt would follow similar lines.
Lucy felt a rising indignation against him, but it was a helpless fury. She was only a female and was relegated to the sidelines, out of danger when all she longed to do was to fight at Theo’s side. An image of them standing side-by-side, swords at the ready, slipped across her inner vision.
Oh, he must come through it the victor! She couldn’t bear it if he were hurt, or worse. Right must prevail! She suddenly knew that she wouldn’t want to go on living if anything happened to him. Life would have no meaning.
At that moment, Theo was thinking through a series of plans to ensure the same outcome. The first thing was to get Staines assessed by Dr Fortesque and, hopefully, transferred to a suitable place for his recovery. He was confident that the good doctor would remain faithful and discreet. He had seen him and Con through many boyhood ailments and mended broken limbs on occasions. Maybe Fortesque would take Staines to his home? Thankfully, money to pay for any treatment was no problem. As long as they could transfer Staines there without anyone realizing what was happening, he should be safe.
He turned his thoughts to his own predicament. What would Piers do next? He tried to put himself in his cousin’s role. Would he come back here to the gamekeeper’s cottage? Or was he now persuaded that he had been mistaken about Theo’s presence there? Had he visited the Hall and found it closed and shuttered? Theo hoped so. That might send him back to London for a time to follow other lines of enquiry, which would give him time to come up with a plan and put it into practice.
His eyes gleamed. There was nothing like a challenge to restore feelings of self-worth. And, at least he knew his enemy! Piers was a cheat, a liar, a murderer, a thug and a bully and, like most bullies who got others to do their dirty deeds, he was a coward. That knowledge was the ace up his sleeve. If he could get Piers into a tight corner, he would react in the only way he knew and, with reliable witnesses to backup his testimony, Theo would have him!
By the end of the day, Theo knew what his immediate plans were: Dr Fortesque needed no persuasion to take personal care of Staines and Boulton and Dodds, Boulton’s chosen ally, were prepared to take on Staines’s work and assist Theo in his efforts to get his legs working again, but in a location neither would know until they had taken leave of their families.
His only regret was that he couldn’t tell the two women in his life where he was and what he was doing. One of those women was his dear mother, the Countess of Montcliffe and the other was Miss Lucy Templeton, whose assistance and bravery he would remember for the rest of his life.
Lucy was devastated when she discovered that Lord Rockhaven had departed for a secret destination. Her only consolation was that he had taken Georgie Boulton and another villager with him, with the intention, so Mrs Boulton told her in strictest confidence, of regaining the use of his legs and eventually coming back to his ancestral home.
‘But when will that be?’ Lucy asked Mrs Boulton, her heart in despair.
‘Georgie couldn’t say, love. It seems his lordship is determined to keep his plans close to his chest and what we don’t know, we can’t let slip, can we?’
‘But how will you manage without your husband bringing in a wage? I know things were difficult before, but it will a great deal harder on your own.’
‘Georgie said his lordship has got it all in hand. Old Tomkins from up at the Hall will take care of our needs. So, Miss Templeton, we just has to be patient and see what happens.’
That was easier said than done. How could she be patient when she didn’t know what was happening, nor how long it would be before she saw Lord Rockhaven again? If ever! The thought drove her to despair. He hadn’t said he wanted to see her again. Maybe, now that her part in his survival was over, he would forget about her? After all, what was there for him to remember? A slip of a girl who spoke her mind too freely and romped about the countryside with little thought for her reputation. What sort of enticement to him to keep her in his thoughts was that?
It was a subdued Lucy who, a few days later, welcomed her sister and family back home from their visit to Kent and Marissa wrote happily to their mother, saying that the isolation from society was having a good effect on her sister’s rebellious nature. Lady Templeton wrote back with thankfulness and said that they would leave Lucy with Marissa until Christmas, when they would travel down from London to spend the festive season at Glenbury Lodge and take Lucy back with them early in the
new year in time to plan a second Season, during which, Lucy would be prevailed upon to receive the first favourable offer of marriage with thankful gratitude.
Wisely, Marissa did not share this plan with Lucy. She just hoped that her rebellious sister had seen the foolishness of her former romantic notions and, now that she had had a glimpse of what her life might be like if she remained unmarried, that she would resolve to be a dutiful daughter in future.
Lucy knew that Bertie and Arabella would be eager to ask if they might visit Rocky at the earliest opportunity and she managed to interrupt Bertie’s urgent enquiry of, ‘How’s Rocky? Can we go and—?’ with a hasty, ‘The stable pups are all doing fine, Bertie, but you must wait until tomorrow morning to see them,’ thankful that Cassie had indeed produced a litter during the children’s absence. Her interruption was accompanied by a meaningful raised eyebrow and she was thankful that Bertie was quick on the uptake. Her conscience twinged with guilt that she was teaching the children to be deceitful, but she salved her misgivings with the knowledge that Lord Rockhaven’s safety took precedence over the normal niceties of life.
The following afternoon, after taking the children to see the new pups, she tried to explain the difference between lying and using an untruth to protect someone’s safety. ‘We aren’t lying for selfish gain for ourselves, or to escape a punishment,’ she clarified, ‘and we will be able to confess the truth to your mama as soon as Lo— Rocky says we may.’
Bertie considered her words. ‘That’s all right, and I’ll be very brave if I get a beating for having told a lie.’
‘Will I be beaten, too?’ Arabella asked with a tremor in her voice.
‘Nah! Girls don’t get beaten, do they, Aunt Lucy?’ Bertie asserted with a hint of scorn in his voice, adding hopefully, ‘Maybe Rocky will say I, too, may be excused for once, because we were lying to protect him? I’ll ask him, shall I? Can we go and ask him now?’
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