‘He must be worried to death.’
‘No doubt he is, but I cannot feel much sympathy for him. None of this need have happened. If he had not been so stubborn over Gorridge…’
‘He never did like being crossed,’ she said. ‘But it was the way he was brought up, to consider his position as heir to an earldom before anything. His parents taught him that his rank meant he had God-given rights over his family and his people and that no one should say him nay. I think I was the first person to frustrate him and he did not like it. I expect his daughter has caused him more soul-searching. You ought to feel sorry for him. If not for him, then for Lady Luffenham.’
‘I feel for her. She is a gentle, caring lady and she loves Lucy, but she dare not go against her husband. As soon as I can, I will go to Luffenham and tell them what happened.’
‘Yes, you must, but I don’t know when that will be. There is no sign of the weather breaking and it will be days before the roads are cleared.’
‘I’ll go back to the works and walk from there. There must be some snow shoes lying about somewhere. If not, I’ll fashion some.’
‘It’ll be hard going, son,’ his father put in.
‘But short of sprouting wings and flying, what else can I do?’
‘If you must, you must,’ his mother said, knowing she could not change his mind and sympathising with the Countess, whom she had never met. If she had had a daughter lost in such dreadful weather, she would have been out of her mind by now.
Dinner had been kept back against Myles’s return, but now the butler came to tell them it was served and they moved into the dining room, still talking about Lucy and Johnny, the weather and when it was likely to break so that building the railway line could continue. Myles had the added worry of wondering where Edward Gorridge was and what other mischief he might be planning. Whatever it was, he must be thwarted and Lucy freed from his attentions forever.
Poor darling! What a time of it she had had, but how courageous she had been. He could not forget the sight of her frozen in the snow, with her white face and still body, almost like a corpse. His heart had almost stopped at the sight of her. He thanked God that he had been able to save her. Surely, surely that proved they were destined to be together?
Lucy, exhausted and properly warm for the first time since leaving home, slept until the following morning. She woke to find herself in a huge feather bed in a pretty bedroom with the sun peeping in at the window. Lady Moorcroft was sitting in a chair drawn up to the bedside. Her ladyship was a little plump, with bright blue eyes, pink cheeks and hair that had once been fair, but was now tinged with grey. She wore a morning dress of green grosgrain, decorated in bands of black and turquoise. ‘Good morning, my dear,’ she said, smiling in such a friendly fashion that Lucy found herself smiling, too. ‘I trust you slept well.’
‘Oh, yes. I am most grateful to you for taking me in. I must have looked like a bundle of rags when I arrived. And Johnny not much better. I am afraid I was so cold and exhausted I did not thank you properly at the time.’
‘No thanks are necessary, Lucy. I may call you Lucy, mayn’t I? Or do you prefer Lucinda?’
‘Lucy, please. I am only called Lucinda when Papa or Miss Bannister are being severe with me.’
Her ladyship smiled. ‘I shall not be severe with you. I have been looking forward to meeting you for some time. Myles has told us all about you.’
‘Oh, dear, what has he said?’
‘Nothing but good, I assure you. He loves you and I can see why. You are truly beautiful. But I believe there is more to you than that and today we shall get to know each other.’
‘I should like that, but I am worried about my parents. They must think I have perished in the snow and Johnny, too. Poor Mama will be distraught.’
‘Yes, I am quite sure she is, but Myles has gone to see them.’
‘He can get through?’ she queried. ‘Does that mean the roads are open?’
‘No, I do not think so. The snow has stopped, but there has been so much of it, it will take some time to clear it all away. Myles has ridden as far as the works and means to go the rest of the way on snow shoes. Wonderful things for walking on snow, they are.’
‘Oh, I pray he does not get lost, too. When the wind whips up the snow, it blinds you. You can’t see a hand in front of your face and on the hill where there as so few landmarks…I shall not rest until he returns.’
‘Nor I, my dear, but he is a strong man, used to hard work, and he is accustomed to walking for miles across country when he is surveying a route for a railway. And I believe he is going to take Mr O’Malley to bear him company. We must be patient.’
‘Did he tell you what happened, how I came to be out?’
‘Yes, Lucy, he did, and very brave you were to go looking for your brother like that. I am sure I should not have had the courage.’
‘I did not know it then, but Johnny was lured from the house by Mr Gorridge. I cannot understand why he should do it. It would not change anything and, but for the navvies, Johnny would have died. It does not bear thinking about.’
‘Then do not think about it.’ A knock at the door interrupted her and a maid came in carrying a tray. ‘Good. Here is your breakfast. Eat it up and then we will find some clothes for you. I am afraid your habit is ruined.’
‘It was only an old one. I wore it because it is warmer than my new one.’ She accepted the tray on to her lap. There was bread and butter, two coddled eggs, some grapes and a pot of fresh coffee. ‘Thank you.’ She paused. ‘Lady Moorcroft, where is my brother?’
‘Oh, he has been up and about for ages, exploring the house and the stables. He ate a hearty breakfast downstairs with me and seems none the worse for his experience. Little boys are very resilient, you know.’
‘I hope he is not being a nuisance.’
‘Good gracious, no. He’s a fetching little chap and very comical in those funny clothes. Unfortunately I haven’t any boy’s clothes that will fit him. It is many years since Myles was that size.’ She paused and gave a light laugh. ‘If he ever was that small. It seems impossible to believe now, he is grown so big.’
‘He is, isn’t he? But he’s so gentle and kind and patient. But I fear I have tried his patience to the limit.’
Her ladyship put a hand on Lucy’s arm. ‘It is good that you did.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh, he would have carried you off and caused no end of a scandal if you had not had a wise head on your shoulders. Starting off your life together in that fashion would not have led to lasting happiness.’
‘I am sorry to say it, but Papa is so against Myles. I do not understand why. I cannot see there is anything wrong with earning an honest living.’
Her ladyship smiled. ‘It has nothing to do with that, my dear, that is only an excuse. The real reason goes back much further than that. Now finish your breakfast, while I see what I can find for you to wear. We will talk some more later.’ She patted Lucy’s hand and left the room.
She did not shut the door and Lucy realised it was a connecting room. She could hear doors being opened and closed and the rustle of silk and murmured voices. The maid was in there, too, and they were selecting garments. Lucy smiled. She was much taller and slimmer than her ladyship and she doubted anything of hers would fit. She looked about her; the room was furnished with cupboards and chests of drawers in a pale, delicate wood. The curtains and carpet were pink and the bed linen cream. The dressing table bore hair brushes and bottles and jars; some porcelain ornaments were arranged on the chest. It was a lovely room and, Lucy guessed, her ladyship’s own and not a guest room. How privileged it made her feel!
She left the bed and padded across to the window. It looked out on a gravel drive from which every vestige of snow had been cleared, though it still lay like a white carpet over the lawns and flower beds. Beyond the boundary, the hills were covered in snow; it sparkled in the sunlight, pretty but deceptively dangerous. Her thoughts flew to Myles, trudg
ing through it to tell her parents she and her brother were safe. How would her father receive him? And would Mr Gorridge be there?
Comfortable as she was and welcoming and hospitable as Lady Moorcroft was, she wished she were beside him, showing her father and the world in general that there never could be anyone else but Myles for her. She loved him, she loved everything about him: his fine physique, his handsome looks, his voice, which could rise to address a crowd or drop to whisper sweet nonsense for her ears alone. She loved his courage and his compassion, his ability to inspire loyalty and respect. He was a good man and anyone who could not see that must be blind. Lady Moorcroft had hinted she knew the reason her father was so against him, so perhaps she might learn something in the course of the day. But would it help?
Lady Moorcroft came back into the room, bearing an armful of clothes. ‘Nothing I have will fit,’ she said. ‘It will have to be something of Harriet’s, she is more your size. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Of course I do not mind. Yesterday I was wearing a coarse cotton nightdress belonging to Mrs O’Malley and grateful for it. And I am grateful to you and to Harriet.’ She smiled at the maid, who had followed her mistress into the room to help her to dress.
Half an hour later, clad in a dove-grey taffeta gown trimmed with white braid, which was a little too short so that it showed her trim ankles, she was conducted on a tour of the house. Although nothing like as large as Luffenham Hall, it was obviously the home of a wealthy man, and it was furnished in exquisite taste. Lucy loved it. When they went up to the nursery suite and the schoolroom, they found Johnny sitting at a scratched wooden table, completely absorbed in a book about railways.
He looked up when they entered, his face split by a broad smile. ‘Lucy, Lucy, you are awake at last. I’ve been up for ages. I have been out to the stables and down the drive to the road to see how much snow there is and Cook made some gingerbread for me. And now I’m reading Mr Moorcroft’s book. It’s full of drawings of railway engines and cuttings and vi…’ He struggled over the word. ‘Viaducts. I am going to be a railway engineer when I grow up.’
‘You have to study hard for that, Johnny,’ Lucy said, wondering what her parents would make of his strange ambition. Johnny was destined to be the sixth Earl of Luffenham and that did not accord with railway engineering. Poor little chap had much to learn about his destiny. Myles had told her he had not found it easy to be two men in one, and, if Johnny pursued that kind of life, he would find it even harder. Oh, where was Myles? Had he arrived?
Myles was approaching Luffenham Hall, dragging Johnny’s sled, which he had found upended in the snow near the bridge. If Gorridge had sent the child hurtling down that bit of slope, no wonder he was frightened. It was dangerously steep with the river at the bottom. He could have crashed down and gone through the ice and might never have been found. The evil intent of the man was obvious. Lucy would not believe it and he supposed the Earl would not believe it, either, and there was no point in saying anything about it. But if he ever met the man again…
His thoughts were brought to an abrupt end when the front door of the Hall burst open and the Earl stood on the step, carrying a sporting gun. ‘I thought I told you not to come here again. And what are you doing with that sled? If you have harmed a hair of my son’s head…’
‘He is unharmed,’ Myles said evenly. ‘And I found the sled at the bottom of the slope by the river bridge this morning.’ He paused as Lady Luffenham came and stood beside her husband. Her ladyship looked pale and exhausted and her eyes were red with weeping.
‘Where is he, then? What have you done with him?’
‘He is safe and well, my lord. But are you not also interested in the fate of your daughter?’
‘If she has seen fit to run away with you, then she is no daughter of mine. She can live among the navvies if that is what she prefers.’
Myles exploded with fury. ‘How can you be so uncaring of a daughter who has always been loving and obedient? She has not run away with me. As you see, I am here. I do not run away from my responsibilities. I came in good faith to tell you she was found more dead than alive yesterday afternoon—’
‘Where is she?’ the Countess broke in, pushing past her husband to reach Myles. ‘Is she safe? Is she hurt?’
‘My lady, she is well, but it was touch and go for a time. I took her to Goodthorpe Manor. It was impossible, given the weather, to bring her home here, and my mother is looking after her.’
‘Then come into the house. We cannot talk on the step. John,’ she addressed her husband, ‘Mr Moorcroft has good news and I wish to thank him.’
Almost reluctantly the Earl stood to one side to allow Myles to enter, where he stood, wiping his boots on the mat.
‘Let me take your cloak,’ her ladyship said, determined to make up for her husband’s surliness by looking after their visitor. She handed his cloak to the footman. ‘Watkins, refreshments for the gentleman in the drawing room, please.’
He went to obey and Myles followed her ladyship into the drawing room, a huge room where a poor fire gave off little heat. He was glad he had decided to wear proper riding clothes with a cravat and buckskin breeches tucked in to good boots and not the fustian coat and cord trousers of the navvy, even though they would have been warmer. At least the Earl and Countess could not fault his attire. The Countess bade him be seated and he folded his long frame into a chair. The Earl stood with his back to the fire, blocking out its meagre heat. ‘Well, Moorcroft, let us hear what you have to say.’
Myles told his tale in a straightforward manner, though he was at pains to emphasise Lady Lucinda’s courage in going to look for her brother in such atrocious weather and how cold and ill she was when he found her. His account made the Countess gasp with shock, though she did not interrupt. ‘I took her to the navvy encampment, which was near at hand, and the wife of my foreman dried her clothes and gave her some hot soup to warm her,’ Myles told them. ‘I could not bring her here. The roads were blocked and she could not have walked over the snow, so I decided to take them both to my home. It was easier to move along the railway and I knew my mother would welcome them.’ He could not resist making that point.
‘You did the right thing, Mr Moorcroft, and we are most grateful to you,’ the Countess said. ‘Isn’t that so, my lord?’
‘Yes. Much obliged to you.’ It was a huge concession on the part of the Earl and Myles let his breath out in relief, unaware until then that he had been holding it.
‘We were at our wits’ end,’ the Countess put in. ‘Everyone was searching for Johnny, and then when Lucy also went missing and her horse came home alone and covered in snow, we were in despair. We continued to search for them, but we were afraid…’ She almost choked. ‘We had almost resigned ourselves to the worst. You don’t know how relieved and happy I am and how grateful we are.’
‘My lady, it was a miracle I found her. I had not intended to go to the works yesterday, but changed my mind.’
‘Thank God you did.’
‘Lucinda found Johnny?’ the Earl asked.
‘No, it was one of the navvy women. He had tumbled off his sled very close to the river.’
‘The river!’ exclaimed the Countess. ‘How did he manage to get that far? No wonder we could not find him.’
‘Was he enticed away?’ the Earl demanded. ‘Is that what you have come to tell us, that he will be returned for a ransom? I wouldn’t put it past those men you employ to think of some mischief like that. You can go back and tell them—’ He stopped suddenly when the Countess rose quickly and put her hand on his arm.
Myles was so angry that the Earl could jump to that conclusion that he changed his mind about saying nothing of Gorridge. ‘No, my lord, it was not one of my men and I resent the implication. You need to look closer to home for the culprit.’
‘One of the servants. Tell me his name and I will make sure he never works in a civilised household again.’
‘Not a servant. If you wish to
know who it was, I suggest you ask Mr Gorridge.’
‘Edward! But he has been helping us to look for the boy. And Lucy, too, when we realised she was also missing. He was most concerned for their safety.’
‘I thought he and his parents had decided to return home,’ Myles said.
‘He came back. He said he had a premonition he might be needed and wished…Oh, never mind that. I am not of a mind to believe he would do anything so foolhardy. He knew how thick the snow was.’
‘You have only to ask your son, my lord.’
‘What did Johnny tell you?’ the Countess asked.
Myles repeated briefly what the boy had told him. ‘My lady, I fear the gentleman is not the friend of the family you thought him to be.’
‘I never did think that,’ her ladyship said firmly. ‘And after that business in the glasshouses…I wondered why he came back when his parents seemed to have managed to get home, but he was so plausible and said he had heard that Johnny was lost and hoped we would allow him to help in the search. Do you mean to say he knew where Johnny was all the time?’
‘I believe he imagined he had perished.’
‘But why? What did he hope to gain?’
‘A reward, perhaps? A ransom? Lady Lucinda as a wife? An inheritance? Who knows what was going on in his head.’
Both his listeners were thoughtful, dwelling on these possibilities. It was the Countess who spoke first. ‘Mr Moorcroft, I cannot express my gratitude enough. We are in Mr Moorcroft’s debt, are we not, my lord?’
‘Yes,’ the Earl admitted. ‘But I shall not feel happy until I have my son and daughter safely back under this roof.’
‘I understand that,’ Myles said. ‘But the roads are still impassable, particularly the lane from Luffenham village to the high road. As soon as the way is open, you are welcome to come to Goodthorpe Manor and fetch them yourself. I know my mother would welcome a visit from you.’ He took a letter from his pocket. ‘She has written to you, my lady, thinking that you might appreciate some reassurance from her that Lady Lucinda and Master Johnny are being well looked after and inviting you to visit us.’
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