by Anne Herries
She hurried towards the stables and found a sleepy yard boy beginning to sweep the cobbles. Bestowing a brilliant smile on him, she went confidently towards him.
‘Good morning, lad,’ she said. ‘Would you prepare my rig for me, please? I have a fancy to go driving before anyone is about.’
The lad stared at her, lifted his cap and scratched his head, clearly startled by her request, but then he laid aside his broom and went to do her bidding. Susannah waited impatiently for him to get the rig ready for her. She climbed in and took the reins from him, but on an after thought told him to hop up beside her.
‘I may need you to hold my horses for me,’ she said and smiled at him. ‘You won’t mind that, will you, lad?”
‘Me name is Tim, miss,’ he told her and grinned. ‘I should like to hold ’em for you. I like ’orses, but ’ead groom says I ain’t fit fer nuthin’.’
‘Well, if you take good care of my horses, I shall ask his lordship to see that you are taught to be a groom. In fact, you can be my groom—if it would please you?’
‘You’re a good ’un, miss—a rare sport.’ Tim grinned at her. ‘You handle them ’orses a treat.’
‘Thank you,’ Susannah said. She was glad to have the lad with her, because otherwise she would have felt nervous of leaving the horses alone. ‘Do you know the woods well, Tim? Is there a clearing of any kind in that direction?’ She pointed out the direction that the riders had taken earlier.
‘Yes, miss. I reckon I could show yer where,’ Tim said and looked at her curiously. ‘Yer up to somethin’—ain’t yer?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Susannah said. ‘It is our little secret, Tim. You mustn’t tell anyone else about this.’
‘Cross me ’eart and ’ope to die.’
Susannah smiled at him. So far her plan had worked well. She did not know what would happen when she reached the clearing, but if she was in time, perhaps she would think of some thing….
Harry stood with Max, Gerard and Toby as they waited for the arrival of the marquis and his seconds. A doctor had been summoned to attend and was partaking of a snifter of brandy from a small silver flask. Harry glanced at his gold watch, for it was a minute to the time agreed.
‘It seems that Northaven may have changed…’ he began and frowned as the sounds of horses arriving made him hesitate. ‘I believe this may be he.’
Three men rode into the clearing and dismounted. Northaven walked towards them, inclining his head brusquely to the small gathering. He was immaculately dressed in black from head to toe; Harry wore a coat of blue super fine and cream breeches.
‘We are not late, I hope?’ Northaven asked. ‘We were delayed and this clearing was not as easy to find as I imagined.’
‘I believe you are on time, sir,’ the physician said. ‘I am Dr Barnes, my lord. I trust you are happy to accept my services if need be?’
‘Certainly,’ Northaven replied in a careless tone. ‘My seconds, Mr William South—and Sir John Travers.’
‘Pleased to meet you, gentleman,’ the doctor said. ‘You have agreed terms?’
‘Yes, the usual rules apply,’ Sir John said. ‘I would like to inspect the pistols, if you please.’
‘Certainly,’ Doctor Barnes said. ‘I have looked at the pair and they seem nicely balanced, as perfect a weapon as I have seen. Look for yourself. I can find nothing out of order.’
‘Yes, a nice pair,’ Sir John agreed after a brief examination.
Doctor Barnes cleared his throat. ‘Gentlemen, will the seconds please confer and then we shall choose the weapons.’
Gerard and Sir John agreed. They weighed the pistols in their hands, examined them, checked the barrels and loaded each pistol with one shot and powders.
‘Gentlemen, choose your weapon, please.’
Harry waved his hand to indicate that Northaven should choose first, taking his own without appearing to look at it.
‘Please take your places,’ Dr Barnes said. ‘Are either of you inclined to reconcile your differences?’
‘Damn it, no!’ Northaven said, his eyes glittering.
‘I believe we are agreed,’ Harry said. ‘Pray continue, sir.’
‘I must ask you to stand back to back,’ Dr Barnes said. ‘Take measured paces and do not turn until I have finished the count.’ He paused, then, ‘Gentlemen, we shall begin. One, two, three…’
It had been darker in the woods and not easy to follow the bridle path in her rig, but the light was gathering now. Susannah could hear the voices just ahead of her. She had left Tim tending the horses after he had told her that the clearing was just through the trees. She had wondered at first if they would ever find the right place, and her nerves were tumbling low in her stomach as she crept nearer to the clearing. She could hear someone counting and she knew that she was only just in time. On the count of ten they would turn and fire at their discretion.
She reached the clearing just as she heard the count of ten. Both men turned, looking at each other. Northaven had raised his arm, Harry still had his by his side. Northaven was taking aim. Harry was not responding. The marquis was going to fire first and his pistol was pointed straight at Harry’s heart. She saw him draw back the hammer on his pistol and suddenly she screamed, running from the side of the clearing towards the marquis.
‘No…you must not…’ she cried and her terror spurred her on, her path taking her between Harry and the marquis just as Northaven pressed the trigger. His ball struck her left arm. Her scream of pain echoed on the still air as she fell forwards on to the dry earth.
‘Oh, my God!’ Harry cried. He threw his pistol down and ran to where Susannah lay, unmoving. Kneeling on the ground beside her, Harry gently turned her over, looking at the blood trick ling from her arm. Her eyes were closed—she had fainted from the pain—but she was still breathing. ‘Thank God she is alive. The wound is to her arm…’ He looked up to see Northaven standing just a few feet away. Fury erupted within him and he glared at his opponent. ‘If she dies, I shall see you hang, sir.’ For two pins he would have put a ball through the marquis’s black heart, but that would make him a murderer and, as angry as he was, Harry could not forget that he was a gentleman. He lived by his honour, for it was his essence, what made him the man he was. ‘Damn you…she is my whole life…’ His voice cracked and tears glittered in his eyes. ‘I love her….’
‘She ran between us,’ Northaven said, his face white with shock. ‘I meant to wing you, Pendleton. I should not have shot to kill. I wanted to prove I am not what you think me—and I didn’t see her until it was too late. I swear, I would not have wounded Miss Hampton on purpose! I may be a rogue, but I am not a murderer!’ He hesitated, then, ‘This settles the score between us.’
Harry was intent on his love and did not even hear.
‘Let me look at her, sir.’ Doctor Barnes was there beside Harry. He knelt down to examine the wound. ‘She is losing a deal of blood. I must place a tourniquet on her arm until we can get her back to the house.’ He reached for his bag and took out the things he required. ‘Stand back, sir. Allow me to tend my patient.’
‘We need a carriage.’ Harry looked about him. ‘Someone must go for the curricle—’
‘It’s just ’ere, sir,’ a voice piped up to one side of the clearing. ‘Lawks-a-mussy, but I never dreamed she would go and do somethin’ like that, sir. She told meter take care of the ’orses, but when I heard the shot I looped the reins over a bush and come runnin’. She’s a proper sport, that ’un.’
‘I shall speak to you later, lad,’ Harry said and, once the physician had applied the tourniquet, gathered Susannah in his arms. His face was grim as he nodded to Tim. ‘Lead on. We must get her home at once.’
He strode away from the clearing, carrying Susannah in his arms, his expression turned to stone.
‘Damn you, Northaven,’ Gerard said, coming up to the marquis. ‘I think you should take yourself off out of the country for a while. If anything happens to Miss Hampton, I shall not answ
er for your life. If Harry does not kill you, one of us will—that is, if you do not hang.’
‘He challenged me.’ Northaven glared at him. ‘He challenged me, remember? The three of you always believe you have right on your side. Damn you! I’ll not run like a coward, though you think me one. If Pendleton wants to come looking for me, he knows where to find me. I am not finished with any of you.’
Gerard watched as the marquis turned on his heel, strode towards his horse, mounted and went off at a pace. His seconds lingered, looking at each other in dismay.
‘This is dashed awkward, Ravenshead. Northaven did not intend harm to the lady,’ Sir John said. ‘I am sorry for what happened—but she ought not to have run between them like that.’
‘She is a young woman and she is in love,’ Gerard said and frowned. ‘There is no telling what a woman in love will do. Harry thought Northaven would miss, for he is not the best shot in the world. He told me he would wait and then fire in the air, for he had no desire to kill the man, merely to put an end to this nonsense.’ He looked at Max. ‘We had best get back to the house, though I doubt there is much either of us can do.’
‘It is in God’s hands,’ Max said and looked grave. ‘The devil of it is—if she takes a fever and dies, Harry will blame himself.’
‘He already is blaming himself,’ Gerard said. ‘This is the worst thing that could have happened. It beats me how she could have discovered that the duel was to take place and where.’ He frowned. ‘I hope she did not learn of it from Sinclair. Harry will not forgive him if she dies.’
‘I do not imagine he would forgive himself,’ Max said. ‘We must hope that she recovers—I do not know what Harry will do if she does not.’
‘Northaven has a lot to answer for,’ Gerard said. ‘It is a pity that the feud was not ended today. It has dragged on too many years already. Northaven may not have intended harm to Miss Hampton, but if he wanted revenge on Harry, he has certainly had his way….’
Chapter Ten
Susannah stirred as Harry laid her gently on cool linen sheets. She gave a little cry, a whimper of pain, and a tear trickled from the corner of her eye, but she said nothing, merely staring up at him, as if she were bewildered and did not know quite what had happened to her.
‘My foolish little love,’ Harry said in a soft voice. ‘Is the pain very bad?’
‘It hurts a little,’ Susannah said, trying not to cry because her arm felt so painful that she did not know how to bear it. ‘You are not hurt…he did not kill you…’
‘Oh, Susannah…’ Harry choked. ‘My dearest—’
‘Stand aside, sir,’ Dr Barnes ordered in a stern voice. ‘You would do better to leave the room and let me attend her with the help of this good woman.’ He looked at Amelia, who had seen them enter the house and led the way to Susannah’s bedchamber. She hastened to pull back the covers on the bed for Harry to deposit his precious burden. She was wearing her peignoir, but made nothing of the fact that their apartments had been invaded by gentlemen before she was properly dressed.
‘I am very willing to help,’ Amelia said at once. ‘Only command me, sir.’
‘I cannot leave her,’ Harry said, his expression one of near despair. ‘Must you cut for the ball? How deep is it?’
‘I shall tell you when I have examined the lady’s arm further. At least stand aside, sir—and let me do my work.’ The doctor looked at Amelia with approval. ‘Pray fetch hot water, ma’am. I have everything else I need in my bag. But I may need you again in a moment.’
‘I shall be as quick as I can,’ Amelia promised and, with a sympathetic look at Harry, went out.
Harry watched anxiously as the doctor examined the wound carefully, prodding around the bloodied area with his fingers. He had removed the tourniquet, but a steady trickle of blood was still issuing from the tear in Susannah’s flesh. She whimpered a few times, but did not cry out, and after a few minutes the doctor smiled.
‘Well, you are a good, brave girl,’ he told her. ‘You were foolish to do what you did, Miss Hampton, but it took courage. Now you will need a little extra courage, for the ball is lodged just here and I must cut you a little to remove it and then stitch the wound. Do you think you can bear it? I shall give you a small dose of laudanum to help the pain, but I cannot pretend that you will feel nothing.’
‘You must do whatever is necessary…’ Her eyes moved to Harry’s face, a look of appeal in their depths. ‘You will not leave me? Do not let Mama come in until it is done, for she could not bear to see me in pain….’
‘I promise I shall not leave you,’ Harry told her. ‘Shall I hold your hand, my love?’
‘Ah, Miss Royston,’ the doctor said as Amelia returned with a kettle of steaming hot water. ‘Thank you. I shall place my instruments in this bowl. If you will pour some of the water over them, please—and then I must cleanse the wound. Perhaps you would hold the bowl for me? Lord Pendleton, if you are to stay, you may hold Miss Hampton still as I cut, for if she jerks my knife may go too deep and injure her more.’
‘I am ready,’ Harry replied grimly. Having endured such surgery himself on the battlefield, usually without the benefit of laudanum, he knew that Susannah would suffer terribly. He held her hand tightly as the doctor cleansed the wound. She turned her face to wards him as the doctor picked up his sharp scalpel and bent over her arm. Harry was forced to hold her still as she jerked with pain despite the spoonful of laudanum she had swallowed. ‘It will soon be over, dearest…and then you will sleep and the pain will ease.’
‘There…’ Doctor Barnes dropped the ball into a small bowl and looked pleased. ‘It came out easier than I thought. You were very brave, Miss Hampton.’ He frowned and laid his hand on her brow as he saw that she was lying very still. ‘The laudanum is taking effect. I dared not give her too much, but she will sleep for some hours now. She will not feel the remainder of what I do.’ He worked swiftly, stitching the open wound and then applying a clean linen bandage. ‘The wound will heal and she should not have any lasting ill effects, though she may have a scar—but of course there may be fever. If she wakes with a fever, you must call me and I shall pre scribe some thing.’
‘Thank you,’ Harry said. He bent down to kiss Susannah’s brow. ‘I pray that she will not take a fever, but, as you say, it may happen despite all you did to prevent it. I thank God you consented to at tend this morning, sir. Had you not, she might have bled to death before you arrived.’
‘Perhaps it may help you to reflect on the evils of such events,’ Dr Barnes said with a severe look. ‘Had it not been Miss Hampton, it might have been you lying here, sir.’
‘I wish to God it had been!’ Harry said. ‘I would far rather it was I who had been injured. You are right, sir. I let pride goad me into this foolishness. Well, I have learned my lesson. I hope that Northaven is satisfied. He has his revenge more surely than if he had killed me.’
‘I shall leave you now, sir,’ the doctor said and turned to Amelia. ‘Will you walk down with me, Miss Royston? Miss Hampton will need nursing for a few days, and you seem to me a sensible young woman. Will you bear the burden of caring for her?’
‘I had intended to leave in the morning,’ Amelia replied. ‘But I shall not leave now until I know that Susannah is recovered. I would not leave her to the care of servants, and her mama will be very distressed. I shall certainly take my share of the nursing.’
‘Thank you,’ Dr Barnes said. ‘I shall tell you of some signs that you should look out for if she develops a fever….’
Harry bent over Susannah as the door closed behind them. Had the doctor not done so, he would have begged Amelia to stay. He had no intention of leaving Susannah alone, at least until she was safely through the worst, but there were things that only a woman could do for her.
‘Sleep well, my precious, foolish love,’ he murmured as he touched his lips to her cheek. ‘Why did you do such a rash thing? You should not even have been there.’
Harry frowned. He cou
ld not think who had told Susannah that a duel was taking place. She must have known—she could not have stumbled upon the meeting place by accident. If Toby had told her, he would feel the sharp edge of Harry’s temper—and that stable lad should never have allowed her to take the rig out without permission.
He was angry that she had put herself at risk, terrified that he might lose her—and yet at heart he admired her courage. She had seldom driven her horses without either Toby or himself to help and guide her. To have the rig made ready, drive out to the woods at such an hour and then run between opponents bent on shooting each other showed strength of purpose and courage, if a lack of good sense and decorum.
Harry smiled, his feelings of anger cooling as he admitted that the woman he loved had as much courage and determination as most men he knew. She had taken a wrong notion into her head, but he could not help feeling proud of her for what she had done. He would scold her when he was sure she was quite well, but not too severely. It puzzled him as to why she had thought it necessary. Harry had known that the likelihood of Northaven wounding him severely was small. His opponent had never been a true marksman. For himself, he had been prepared to risk it—he had decided that he would let Northaven fire first, then take his time, give the marquis a fright as he took aim and then fire in the air.
He had hoped to put an end to the feuding between them, but his plan had back fired, rebounding on him, because Susannah was suffering and there was the possibility that she would take a fever and die. Even slight wounds could become infected, and if the poison went inwards there was nothing anyone could do.
Harry prayed that it would not happen. He was not sure that he would wish to live if he lost Susannah now.