by Janet Woods
‘I’ll fetch Mrs. Phelps from the village. She was my housekeeper. At least she’ll be able to boil some water.’
‘Boil water! For what reason?’
Patrick shrugged vaguely. ‘Perhaps some tea will settle her nerves. Or perhaps she might like to wash.’
For a moment of two Benedict wondered if she needed to wash. If she did, he knew it wouldn’t make her appear any the less in his eyes.
Then, as Patrick walked away he remembered the gold in the stable. Patrick could help himself and never return if he was of a mind.
He found that he didn’t care. At this moment, when his anger had been pacified by strong feelings of love and compassion, revenge didn’t seem to matter. He had the rest of his life to find Patrick if he absconded. All that mattered to him was that the woman he loved was safe. But that was tempered by the knowledge that she was suffering and he could do nothing to help or comfort her. He would slay all her dragons, and nothing would ever hurt her again if he could prevent it, he vowed
* * * *
Every time Amber managed to stop crying it was only a temporary lull. She’d never experienced such deep and utter sadness, such helplessness and lack of worth.
Her bed seemed to be a mess in the dim light, as though all the clothing she’d been forced to leave behind had been dumped on it. She burrowed under the pile of garments for warmth, huddling there, her mind seething with the horror of what had taken place. Now and again she was wracked by shivering.
When she thought she might be able to sleep, the sight of Stephen Gould’s body came to haunt her. He’d been looking at her, and for a moment she’d seen her own death sentence in them. They’d remained open when he’d dropped, and even though something had changed in them and she’d known he was dead the expression was so intense that she’d expected him to reach out for her in death. She hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from his body. It was the first time she’d seen a man die. It had happened so quickly. It could have been herself lying there dead if Benedict hadn’t been so quick in her defence.
Her hunger returned, but she was too scared to leave the secure nest she’d made. She remembered the bowl of apples Stephen Gould had left on the dining room table, and although she began to crave them and her mouth watered with longing, she didn’t have the courage to move, or to call out to Benedict.
A scuffling noise outside her door brought her heart up to her mouth. Beyond her door she could sense a presence, and thought it might be Benedict. She couldn’t face him. Not yet. But she didn’t want to think, just sleep. That escape seemed to elude her because every time she closed her eyes she remembered Stephen Gould’s eyes and began to weep.
The moon rode high in the sky outside her window. Gradually it slid away from her and the shadows lengthened across the room. Amber’s eyes began to ache with the effort of trying to keep them open. She allowed them to relax.
A knock at the door woke her. She sat upright in bed, rigid with fear, then gazed around her in bewilderment. It was morning.
Events of the night before flooded in on her and she cried out.
‘Are you all right, Amber, dear?’
A woman’s voice, kind ... the countess. Benedict had sent for his mother. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Open the door, my dear. I’ve brought a maid of all work with me as well as Annie. And we’ve brought you some fresh clothes to wear. You might like to bathe and dress. It will make you feel better.’
‘Is Benedict still there? I don’t want to see him yet.’
‘My son is downstairs. He’s been to the farm and purchased some food. The housekeeper has cooked breakfast for the men. Come, my dear, don’t keep me waiting any longer. You cannot hide in there for ever.’
Amber reluctantly opened the door, then gazed at the garments strewn about the room and over the bed almost incomprehensibly. Most had been ripped and tossed about. ‘I don’t know who did this,’ she whispered, beginning to shake again.
Imogene’s intake of breath was audible. ‘It doesn’t matter who carried out such a stupid act. You must try and put it from your mind, for to dwell on it will only bring sadness. We’ll throw everything away and you can start afresh. Oh, my poor girl, how ill-used you look. You must tell me what happened ... I want to know everything.’
‘Benedict killed Stephen Gould.’
‘It was no more than the odious man deserved, and was a direct consequence of the threat the man posed to you, I understand the felon’s shot missed your head by a heartbeat. If Ben had not killed him you’d be dead and we’d all be grieving.’
Tears pricked Amber’s eyes. ‘But he stared at me so, afterwards. I thought he might be pretending to be dead, and would come for me in the night. I’m so hungry I haven’t eaten or drunk anything except wine since he abducted me. He tied my feet and hands together, gagged and blindfolded me, then locked me in the cellar and starved me ... he won’t come back, will he?’
‘No, my dear.’
‘Promise me,’ she said, close to panic at the thought that he might.
‘I promise. The authorities have taken his body away. Benedict sat outside your door last night to make sure you remained safe.’
Amber remembered the scuffing sound she’d heard.
A flap of Imogene’s hand sent the maids scurrying about their business. ‘Find a bath, bring it up here and fill it. The housekeeper will know where it is. And ask the woman - Mrs. Phelps I believe Lord Hartford said her name was - to make up a tray of food for her mistress. Not too much. A small bowl of gruel perhaps. A coddled egg and some wafers of bread with butter on. Oh, and a glass of milk for extra nourishment.’
Amber could have done without the sympathy because immediately the tears she’d held back began to fall from her eyes. But then she was drawn into Imogene’s arms and the words began to tumble out of her as fast as her tears, and in any order they wished.
The countess had been right. By the time she’d related to her what had happened, had breakfasted, bathed and been dressed in a dark blue day gown that Imogene had brought with her, she felt stronger and able to face what the day brought.
Annie brushed her hair dry and Imogene sighed over the missing locks. She took some scissors from her toilette case. ‘I’ll shorten the other side to match so you won’t look uneven. Annie can curl the short pieces around your face and draw the rest into a bun and secure it with a bandeaux.’
When the maid had finished the countess smiled at the servant. ‘How clever you are with your hands, no wonder Miss Hartford requested that you work for her.’
Annie flushed with pleasure as Imogene placed a silk shawl around Amber’s shoulders. ‘Do you feel confident enough to face the magistrate and make a statement now, my dear?’
‘I don’t know. Will everyone be there?’
‘Men can be rather intimidating, can’t they? I do feel it would be a disservice to my husband to exclude him from the meeting. He’s a magistrate himself so nobody will attempt to manipulated your statement in his presence.’
Manipulate her statement?
‘With your permission I’ll also stay with you. If you feel the need to retire you need only to squeeze my hand.
The countess’s words puzzled her. She gazed at the maid. ‘Would you excuse us for a few moments, Annie.’
When Annie had gone Amber gazed directly at the countess. ‘First of all I would like to say that I’m extremely grateful for the help that you’ve given so generously to me. I’m a little perturbed though that you think a magistrate would attempt to manipulate my statement, any more than I’d expect you to.’ Her voice softened. ‘Or that you think I might allow it to happen.’
Shamefaced, the countess gracefully inclined her head. ‘My dear, you’re upset. I’m sorry. The welfare of my son is close to my heart and this business needs to be over and done with.’
‘My mind’s clear as to what happened. My statement will not be detrimental to Benedict in any way. Why should it be if I simply tell the truth? I d
o think it would be better if my cousin attended me. It would be more impartial.’
But my dear, Lord Hartford cannot. Ben has challenged him. They are to meet in the meadow at dawn. Kitt will act as your cousin’s second since he has nobody else.’
‘They cannot fight over this. I will not allow such a thing to happen. My cousin tried to save my life.’
‘But he was part of the conspiracy to abduct you in the first place.’
‘One man has already died. There will be no more blood shed here if it can be prevented.’ She swept past the countess and down the stairs, where the representatives of the Costain family were gathered.
They stood as she came in, but she didn’t return Benedict’s smile. Patrick was standing alone. He looked pale and subdued.
‘I believe you’ve been challenged to a duel by Lord Costain, Patrick.’
His eyes sharpened in on her. ‘Don’t tell me you care what the outcome will be.’
‘I know what the outcome will be. You’ll die ... and yes, I do care. You’re my only relative and I’ve always believed you to have more worth than you consider yourself to have. But allow me to make myself very clear. Patrick, if Lord Costain dies you will never be welcome in my home again.’ She then gazed directly at Benedict. ‘I’m grateful for your timely intervention with regards to my welfare, My Lord. You do not have my permission to defend my honor in this manner.’
‘I do not need it, Amber. You exchanged private vows with me in the eyes of God in front of an altar. Lord Hartford has insulted you and it’s my duty to defend you.’
‘The marriage was not a legal one.’
‘In my heart and mind you’re my wife, Amber. You committed yourself to me, and I to you.’ He gave a tiny grin, adding softly, ‘You know I am your husband.’
Colour crept into her cheeks at the reminder, and his meaning was not lost on the company for Kitt and Archie exchanged a glance and the earl frowned at his son.
‘Such talk is unworthy in front of your mother, Ben. You will apologise to the ladies before you say another word.’
‘My pardon Amber Rose ... Mamma.’
He’d taken the wind from her sails, had made her feel as though she was in the wrong. She was in the wrong. He’d risked his life to save hers twice over. And as he’d reminded her, she’d committed herself to him body and soul. Yet her streak of stubbornness rose to the surface. She would not allow him to kill Patrick.
Quietly, she said, ‘If you intend to go ahead with this duel you’re not welcome here. And from this moment on you’re no longer a guest.’
‘I was never a guest, only one of the intruders. You’re safe now, Amber Rose. You have your life and you have your fortune. You can also have the loan returned that my grandfather owed yours, and with interest. It appears that you have no need of me in your ivory tower now.’
When Benedict gave her a mocking bow and walked away with Kitt and Archie in tow her heart sank. She wanted to call him back and apologise.
Patrick gave a huff of laughter. ‘So, it was you who bought the place. I should have guessed. You certainly know how to hit a man in his pride. You will excuse me, won’t you? My pardon.’ He nodded to the earl and the countess and began to follow after the other three.
‘Where are you going, Patrick? We need to talk.’
‘I’m going to the infirmary to visit Jonas. Thank you for your sacrifice on my behalf, cousin, but I didn’t need it, and neither do I need a wet nurse. I hope to see you at dawn, where you can watch us duel over you from the safety of your window. No matter which one of us wins you’ll be the loser. You always liked this house and now you have it. I hope it brings you joy. I’ve offered the use of grandfather’s dueling pistols, by the way. Rather a nice irony don’t you think?’
Stung by his sarcasm, she snapped, ‘As far as I’m concerned you can shoot each other’s damned heads off with them.’
When he’d gone Amber turned to the earl and his wife with an appeal in her eyes and a plaintive frustration in her voice. ‘Men are so infuriating!’
The earl turned away with a slight grin when his wife said, ‘I agree that men are not very sensible at times. But, my dear, you’re not yourself at the moment and our son should have taken that into account. Ben’s behavior was entirely reprehensible, but issuing such an ultimatum was not a good strategy. Even your cousin knew that, and he has the most to lose.’
She hung her head. ‘I know, but I’m conflicted over this and something inside me refuses to withdraw my statement. How can I be wife to a man who kills my only kin, however unworthy he is? And how can I respect my cousin if he kills the man I love and honor above all others? I just want to rail at them both until they find some sense.’
When the earl exchanged a smile with his wife Amber managed a wry smile. ‘Oh yes ... I really do love and honor Benedict above all others.’
‘Then all is not lost.’
Amber gazed around her in dismay. ‘I do hope you will stay despite the dust. My hospitality does not extend to much since we lack servants, except for this mysterious housekeeper I must go and make the acquaintance of. I will send for someone to remove some of the boards from the windows of the main rooms so we can see what we’re doing ... I was going to ask Patrick to do it. It’s about time this house saw daylight again.’
The earl gazed kindly on her, which considering the circumstances was most generous of him. ‘I’ll remove the boards after you’ve made your statement to the magistrate, who is waiting in the morning room with his clerk.’
She took the first step to making redress to the woman who’d been so kind, patient and understanding. ‘I’d be grateful if you’d act as advisor to me, My Lord, and you as well, My Lady. ’
Imogene’s smile was one of great beauty, and her eyes were the deep blue of cornflowers, just like Benedict’s. ‘I’ll leave that to my husband, who possesses much more wisdom. I’ll occupy myself by familiarising myself with the house and preparing a room. Despite the dust the house has a comfortable, homely feel to it. No wonder you didn’t want to lose it.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have minded losing it that much, though I would have missed it because it was my home. But Benedict said he liked this house, and that he was looking for a property that would support a horse stud, so I bought it for him ... a marriage gift. Only now things have changed. We have reached an impasse, since a situation has been created that neither of us can back down from.’
‘A little bending from you would bring my son completely to heel.’
‘And a little bending from Benedict would achieve the opposite, no doubt. I have no intention of being brought to his heel. Neither do I want him to grovel at mine, since he’s not a dog.’ Amber smiled. ‘His arrogance can be endearing sometimes.’
The earl chuckled. Taking her hand in his, he kissed it. ‘I’m sure a satisfactory conclusion will be reached in this matter, especially with the incumbent magistrate directing proceedings.’
‘You mean the magistrate will officiate when two men attempt to kill each other. This is madness.’
‘Someone must ensure that the rules of the Code Duello are observed fairly.’
Amber stared at the earl wide-eyed. For a moment she was speechless, then she said fiercely, ‘If anyone steps into my meadow tomorrow I’ll swear out a warrant and have them charged with trespass. That includes the magistrate.’
The earl held out an arm to her. ‘Then allow me escort you in so you can tell him so face to face. ‘I’ll be most interested to hear his reaction.’
Chapter Nineteen
‘Trespass!’ The magistrate, a jolly round man, burst into laughter. Quivering all over he pinched her cheek and flirted with her, telling her he’d dangled her on his knee after her grandfather brought her home from Italy, and wouldn’t mind doing so again now she was grown up.
His clerk, tall, lean and solemn cast a jaundiced eye over his employer’s antics.
‘Beware of being too familiar else Viscount Costain might call you
out as well,’ she warned, and he and the earl looked at each other and chuckled.
The reaction had been patronising to say the least, and Amber felt put out by it. ‘I don’t find this affair at all funny.’
‘It’s a matter of honor between gentlemen, my dear.’ They know what they’re doing. Trespass ... under such circumstances?’ He began to laugh again, his jowls wobbling like jellies, so Amber had found it hard not to join in the merriment. But even while her mouth pulled up at the corners, she felt like slapping him for not taking the matter more seriously.
The statement was a truthful one. Yes, it was a matter of honor between gentlemen, she conceded. She’d been abducted for ransom by Stephen Gould. She had no reason to believe her cousin had been implicated, but if he had, he’d repented of his transgression by seeking help. Yes, she’d been imprisoned in the cellar without food until Benedict came to rescue her. But the crimes had been committed against herself, not Lord Costain.’
The man’s laughter stopped and he leaned forward, his eyes avid with curiosity. ‘I understand you were in one of the upper rooms being held against your will, and clad immodestly in a nightgown when the viscount and his companions arrived. Would you tell me exactly what occurred between you and the deceased.’
‘When you are abducted from your bed in the middle of the night, modesty is the last thing on one’s mind,’ she said tartly. Her face heated and she gazed at the earl with embarrassment. What was the magistrate implying?
‘I’m satisfied from an earlier conversation my wife had Miss Hartford that no serious impropriety took place,’ the earl said blandly. ‘Although Miss Hartford was ill-treated, Gould heard the rescue party arrive and used her as a hostage.’
‘Exactly as I thought, My Lord. I believe Gould was about to shoot you when the viscount intervened, Miss Hartford.’
She shuddered. ‘Yes.’
‘Good, good. You were lucky the viscount was at hand to deal with him, since Gould was a crack shot by all accounts. I saw the body. It was a nice, clean shot through the heart. I would have preferred a head shot, myself.’