“They said. . . the sheriff said. . . he stole some cattle.”
Charles tried not to let the women see how much this news alarmed him. Outside of murder, cattle thieving was the most serious crime a person could be charged with in the west. Many a man, and more than one woman, had been hanged for the offense. “What was Nick doing that led the sheriff to believe he’d been stealing cattle?”
Alice shook her head. “I don’t know! He went out riding this morning after you left. Didn’t even stay long enough to say two words to me. Said he wanted to practice.”
“Practice at what?” Cecily asked.
“How am I to know?” Alice wrung her hands. “He was always practicing being a cowboy.”
“And when did the sheriff arrest him?” Charles asked. “How long after he left here?”
“A few hours? He came riding up to the house, leading Nick’s horse with Nick tied to it. He said to tell you when you come back that he’d arrested a cattle thief on your property and he intended holding you responsible.”
So that was the game Grady was playing, was it? Arrest one of the servants to get at Charles. “I think I’d better go have a little talk with the sheriff.”
“I’m coming, too.” Cecily started to climb back in the buggy.
“Me too.” Alice started up after her.
“Just a moment, ladies.” Charles held up his hands to forestall them. “This business concerns Sheriff Grady and myself. I’d best handle it alone.”
Cecily ignored him and settled herself on the wagon seat. “I think we’d better go with you,” she said. “The way you two feel about one another, you’re liable to come to blows. At least with women present, you’d be more likely to have a civil conversation.”
A civil conversation, indeed! He drew himself up, indignant. “Are you saying I don’t know how to conduct myself?”
“I would like nothing better than to see you put Sheriff Grady in his place.” Cecily slid over on the wagon seat and gathered up the reins. “But today is not the day to do it. Today, we need to see Nick freed from jail.”
She smiled as she spoke, but he heard the steel behind her words. Not that he agreed with her, but he didn’t have time to waste arguing. He climbed up beside her and she surrendered the reins. Alice settled in behind them.
They said little on the drive back town. Charles pushed the horses as much as he dared, forcing the women to hang onto their seats and endure a rough ride across the prairie. But neither complained. Cecily sat rigid beside him, tight-lipped and determined. Alice sat behind her, sobbing quietly.
The roan gelding Nick usually rode was tied to the rail in front of the sheriff’s office. Charles pulled the buggy in beside it, then helped the women alight.
“I would have thought a British Lord would have had more sense than to bring women at a time like this.”
He turned and found Sheriff Grady waiting in the doorway to his office. “Where’s Nick?” Alice cried. “What have you done to him?”
Charles finished securing the horses, then approached Grady. “What’s this I hear about your arresting young Bainbridge? He’s no more of a cattle thief than I am.”
“I’ll remember you said that.” Grady stepped back out of the doorway. “The women can wait outside while you and I talk.”
“We will wait inside, thank you.” Head held high, Cecily swept past him. Alice scurried after her.
Charles entered last, pausing long enough to give Grady a quelling look. “I want to see Bainbridge,” he said.
“What you want and what you’ll get are two different things.” Grady walked over to a massive mahogany desk and sat. A matching mahogany cabinet to his left held ranks of shotguns and rifles behind its locked doors. The fine furnishings stood out against the remaining decor of yellowing wanted posters, an old saddle, and a pot-bellied stove in need of blacking.
The only other item that seemed out of place was a large portrait which hung on the wall behind the desk. A mustached man glowered at them from the gilded frame, arms crossed beneath the silver star pinned to his chest.
“I’m the boss of this place, Worthington,” Grady said. “You can’t order me around like one of your servants.” His expression was a poor imitation of that of the man in the portrait, though the family resemblance was evident.
Charles ground his teeth together. Cecily was right – if she and Alice weren’t present, he’d haul Grady out from behind that desk and teach him some manners. For their sake, and Bainbridge’s, he’d have to cultivate patience. “What happened?” he asked.
Grady leaned back in his chair. “Caught your boy red-handed, roping cattle over on the Rocking W.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what kind of an operation you’re running out your way, but I intend to find out.”
Charles dismissed the implied threat with a wave of his hand. “What does Bainbridge have to say for himself?”
Grady shrugged. “I didn’t care to listen to anything he had to say.”
“I want to talk to him.” Charles tried to keep his voice even, but he could not wholly conceal his contempt for this so-called lawman.
Grady shook his head. “Come back later.”
Cecily put a hand on Charles’ arm. “Let’s do as he says. While we’re waiting, we can talk to Mr. Adkins. I’m sure he’ll be very interested in this story for the paper.”
Grady laughed. “You do that. Let everybody know the great Lord Charles Worthington has been harboring a cattle thief on his place.”
Cecily gave him a cool look. “I was referring to the story of how the town’s sheriff is holding a prisoner in solitary confinement, without benefit of counsel, and without allowing him the chance to tell his side of the story.”
Charles would have paid a pretty penny for a photograph of Grady’s face when Cecily let that gem slip. He patted her on the shoulder and said with exaggerated calm. “You’re absolutely right, dear. There’s nothing a newspaper man likes better than to get his teeth into a tale of corruption in high places. The voting public will flock to read the story.”
Grady shot out of his chair and grabbed a ring of keys from a drawer. “All right, you can see him. But not the ladies. Just Worthington.”
For the second time in as many weeks Charles mounted the steps to the cellblock. Nick was waiting at the cell door for them, hands clutching the iron bars. Charles’s hands curled into fists when he saw the footman’s bruised face and bloodied lip.
The sheriff shrank back from Charles’ accusing look. “He tried to fight me,” Grady said. “I was in my rights to subdue him”.
Charles shoved past the sheriff and stood at the cell door. “Hello, Nick.”
“Hello, m’lord.” Nick ducked his head. “You’ve come to get me out of here, I hope.” He glanced toward the sheriff. “I’ve tried to explain to him, this is all a terrible mistake.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Bainbridge took a deep breath, then launched into his tale: “Not having any pressing duties this morning, I decided to take a ride, explore more of the ranch. I took my rope with me.” He looked sheepish. “I’ve been trying to learn how to rope, but I need more practice.”
“The sheriff said he saw you roping some Rocking W cattle.”
Nick flushed. “I didn’t pay attention to the brands. I just saw a bunch of cattle and decided to get in some practice. I swear, I never intended to do anything but rope a few and then let them go.” He stared at his feet. “Most of the time, I miss, anyway. But these cows must have been tired or something, because they just stood there and let me throw a loop, easy-like, over their heads.”
“Just the kind of smooth lie I’d expect from you Brits.” Grady came to stand beside them. “My guess is that the two of you are running a rustling operation and relying on your supposed elevated reputation to put off suspicion.”
Charles’s face was a mask of indifference, a look guaranteed to aggravate the sheriff. “Do you make up these fantasies to amuse yourself, sheriff?
Or do you plan on beginning a career as a novelist?”
“You won’t be so smug when you’re behind bars yourself.” Grady jabbed a finger at Charles’ chest. “Abbie Waters is on her way over here right now to press charges. She’s been losing a lot of cattle lately. I don’t imagine she’ll take kindly to the news that her neighbor is the thief.”
“I’m not a thief!” Nick protested.
“I’ve had enough of this.” Grady jerked his head toward the stairs. “Back to my office. Now.”
As Charles stepped off the bottom riser, the door to the jail burst open and a young woman dressed in a man’s shirt and trousers burst in. Abbie Waters looked as if she’d ridden hell for leather all the way into town, her hair coming loose from its pins, dust coating her high-heeled boots. She paused in the doorway and stared at Alice and Cecily. “Lady Cecily, what are you doing here?”
“We came to see my footman,” Cecily said.
Abbie looked puzzled. She turned to the Sheriff. “Grady, what’s going on? Luis sent word you’d caught my cattle thief.”
“Caught him red-handed.” Grady put his hands on his hips and nodded to Charles. “One of those Englishman who works for Worthington here.”
“Lord Worthington?” Abbie turned to him, her face flushed. “I. . . I can’t believe it.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t behind the whole thing.” Grady looked smug. “I intend to check every head of cattle at his place and every one on the sales records.”
“Check all you like,” Charles said. “You won’t find anything.” He turned to Abbie. “The sheriff caught Lady Thorndale’s footman, Nick Bainbridge, roping some of your cattle. But the lad had no intention of stealing them. He’s gotten it into his head that he wants to be a cowboy, and he was practicing his roping technique.”
“I remember Nick.” Abbie brightened. “He was keen on being a cowboy. I even showed him a few rope tricks myself.” She turned to Grady. “Did you find any branded hides, or fresh butchering, near where Nick was roping?”
Grady folded his arms across his chest. “I didn’t need that kind of evidence when I caught him red-handed with his rope around your cow.”
“Since when is roping a cow against the law?” She turned away, not bothering to hide her look of disgust. “Let him go, Grady. I don’t intend to press charges.”
Like a shot, Grady was at Abbie’s side. “You can’t be serious. You’ll let him get away with this?”
“Get away with what?” She turned to Charles and Cecily. “I’m sorry you folks had to go to so much trouble. I don’t know what the sheriff was thinking.”
Grady started to reply, but apparently thought better of it. He snatched the keys up off the desk and stormed up the stairs, returning a moment later with Nick in hand.
“Aww, Nick, what did that brute do to you?” Alice fluttered around him like a worried hen.
“I’m right enough, now. Leave off your fussing.” He turned to Charles. “I’m much obliged, m’lord, for you coming down to straighten this out.”
“Next time you decide to practice roping, pay more attention whose brand is on the cattle.” Abbie smiled at him.
He nodded. “Aye, miss, I’ll not be making that mistake again.”
“Come on, let’s go back to the ranch.” Charles turned to leave, but the sheriff stopped him at the door.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Grady said. “People like you think you’re above the law, but you’re not.”
“And people like you think wearing a badge gives you the power to make your own laws.” Charles faced him, unblinking. “I’m fast losing my patience with you, Grady. If I find you harassing Lady Thorndale, or any of my employees, or any of my guests, I’ll file a complaint with your superiors and see that you pay.” Not waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out, slamming the door in the sheriff’s face.
“Guess you told him, m’lord,” Nick said as he untied his horse.
“It’s lucky for you his Lordship was good enough to come and get you out of this fix,” Alice scolded. “Maybe now you’ll leave off all this cowboy talk. It’s gotten you nothing but trouble.”
Nick shook his head. “I’ve tried explaining it to you, but I can see you’ll never understand. This is something I have to do.”
“If you’ve no care for yourself, give a thought to Lord Silsbee. You’re his responsibility and I dare say he’ll soon tire of patching you up and bailing you out of jail.”
Responsibility. Charles felt the word like a great weight on his shoulders as he climbed into the buggy and turned the rig toward home. The very thing he’d wanted to avoid. Since Cecily’s arrival, his responsibilities had multiplied almost daily, to include not only her and her servants, but his three house guests of questionable character, and now even his neighbor’s cattle. Would his life never be his own again?
* * *
Charles said nothing more about Nick’s arrest or the sheriff’s vendetta. In fact, in the days following their visit to the jail, he seemed increasingly withdrawn and preoccupied. Cecily worried the letter from his father had contained bad news, but when she questioned him, he curtly replied that his father never wrote with good news and changed the subject.
In an effort to keep peace, she advised Nick to remain close to the house and stay out of trouble, to put aside cowboying for a while. Alice and Nick seemed to have reached some kind of understanding. They had talked together long into the night after Nick’s arrest, and Alice had come into her room the next morning looking decidedly calmer, and wearing her lavender skirt and frilly shirtwaist, her hair in a new, more attractive style.
With Charles so withdrawn, Cecily began to grow bored. She had the meeting of the Fairweather Academy committee to look forward to, but until then, the days stretched emptily before her. Even her classes with Fifi and Estelle did not take up as much time as they once had, since the women were progressing rapidly. Soon, she would not have even this to occupy her time, as Madame was hoping to move into her new house very shortly.
“The construction foreman tells me he expects to be completed by the end of February,” she announced one afternoon as the four women sat in the front parlor.
“That’s only two weeks away. Will you really be leaving so soon?” Cecily could not hide her disappointment. How many stilted dinners alone with Charles could she sit through before she cast all practiced self-control aside and pleaded with him to love her? She knew him well enough now to see that such recklessness would only force him into sending her home, minus the coveted wedding band on her finger. No, she had to find some way to make him see her as a blessing, not a burden. She had to make him want her as much as she wanted him. But how?
“Someone’s coming.” Fifi looked up from the stocking she was darning and peered out the window. Cecily joined her and watched a line of dust advancing toward them across the prairie. Soon the figure of a man on horseback emerged from the dust.
“It’s a city fellow,” Fifi observed. “No cowboy would be caught dead in that hat.”
The dome-topped derby would have looked out of place on a cowboy’s head, but it went well enough with Gerald Adkins’s tweed suit. The newspaperman reined in at the hitching rail beside the fence and strode to the front door.
A moment later, Gordon escorted their guest into the parlor. “Mr. Gerald Adkins,” he announced, in the same tone he would have used to introduce the dowager duchess of Northampton.
Adkins lifted his derby in greeting. “Afternoon, ladies. I hope you’re in the mood for company.”
“Depends on what you’re offering, stranger.” Estelle struck a provocative pose against the mantelpiece.
A wave of red swept up Adkins’ face. “Uh, now ma’am, I just thought I’d visit a little with Lady Thorndale.” He fished a notebook from his coat pocket. “She promised me an interview.”
Cecily stood and greeted him with a smile. “Hello, Mr. Adkins. Allow me to introduce Madame LeFleur, Estelle and Fifi.”
&n
bsp; Madame gave a regal nod, while the younger women executed graceful curtsies. Gordon took the derby and vanished once more and Adkins settled himself in a high-backed armchair. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies.”
“My girls and I will leave you in privacy.” Madame started to rise, but Cecily waved her back down.
“No, Madame. I won’t hear of it. Stay and keep me company. Mr. Adkins won’t mind, will you?”
She smiled her sweetest smile at Adkins, who nevertheless looked uncertain. “Oh. . . sure. They can stay,” he mumbled after a moment.
Adkins settled himself into the chair, notepad on his knee, pencil poised above it. “So tell me, Lady Thorndale, what brings you to Texas?”
I’m chasing a man who thought he could leave me behind. She smiled sweetly. “I’m visiting my fiancé, Lord Silsbee.”
“Fiancé, is it?” Adkins grinned. “Well, congratulations. Do you and Mr. Worthington – Lord Silsbee – intend to live on the ranch after you’re wed?”
“We haven’t discussed that. But I must say, I’m certainly enjoying my stay in your charming town. Everyone has been very friendly. I’ve even been invited to join the women who are working to found the Academy.”
Adkins scribbled furiously to get all this down. Cecily hoped she’d distracted him sufficiently from any more questions about her engagement to Charles.
Gordon provided further distraction by arriving with the tea tray. In addition to tea, he had somehow managed to charm Mrs. Bridges out of a dozen of her delicious, and closely-guarded sand tarts. “Thank you, Gordon, this looks splendid,” she said.
“You’re quite welcome, m’lady.” Gordon bowed and left them once more. Cecily poured tea and handed around the sand tarts.
Juggling cup, plate and notebook, Adkins launched into his questions once more. “Why did you want to get involved with building the Academy?”
“I’ve seen how important education is, especially here in the west.”
Adkins nodded and popped an entire sand tart into his mouth. He’d scarcely swallowed the last crumb when his next question popped out. “I understand you were the one who came up with the idea of offering adult education courses as well as classes for younger people.”
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