Tremayne stepped up and slid his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. ‘Lady Allegra is quite correct, my love. It’s far more likely the cat will fall than Witherton.’
This comment was overheard by Lady Arabella. She collapsed, wailing, into the arms of her husband. By the time Charles had soothed his overwrought young wife and Tremayne and Allegra had restored Demelza to some degree of equanimity, Richard was beginning his descent. He had the errant cat tucked firmly inside his waistcoat.
‘I’m coming down now, so you can all relax. I and the cat are safe,’ he called through the branches. Instantly the waiting group looked up. This time Allegra remembered to place a restraining hand on the back of her bonnet. She noticed Demelza’s hat was hanging, unheeded, from its ribbons, halfway down her back.
Lady Arabella was not wearing a bonnet. In fact, Allegra noticed with some amusement, she was still in her morning gown, a plain cotton dimity not meant to be seen in company. Richard had completed over half his climb, the small black head of the cat just visible under his chin, when there was an ominous cracking and the narrow branch upon which he had just placed his right foot, gave way.
Demelza screamed, her cry so startling the cat it shot upwards, attempting to claw its way across Richard’s unprotected face. Allegra held her breath and instinctively moved closer to Tremayne, but he was gone, no longer beside her.
Assessing the situation he had leapt forward, tearing off his jacket as he did so. ‘Hang on, lad, I’m coming up.’
Allegra watched, aghast, as he climbed rapidly, as adroit in the branches as her brother, until he was able to support Richard’s dangling feet.
‘Stand on my shoulders. I’m firmly braced below you. Regain your balance before trying for
another foothold.’
Richard braced himself, then tried to remove the terrified cat from its position, crouched on top of his head. But the cat was not prepared to co-operate and with an angry yowl, it clawed Richard a second time and he was forced to release it.
To gasps of horror the unfortunate animal plummeted to the ground. It landed, as cats do, on all fours, shook itself, and shot off hissing and spitting in the direction of the house. Lady Arabella was the first to react.
‘Well, after all the trouble that has been taken to rescue him. What an ungrateful animal he is!’ Amidst the laughter of relief the would-be rescuers emerged feet first from the tree. Tremayne dropped lithely to the ground but Richard fell heavily, sprawling face down on the grass. He rolled over, his hands clutched to his face, to be greeted by a further scream of anguish from his intended.
‘Richard, you are covered in blood. That horrid cat has scratched you to ribbons.’
Tremayne dropped to one knee and slipping his arm under Richard, he heaved him up to prop him against the tree trunk. ‘Lean on that for a moment, until you get your breath back.’ Concerned at the amount of blood seeping through Richard’s fingers he produced a voluminous handkerchief from his inside pocket and, folding it into a pad, carefully prised the hand away. ‘Hold this on your eye, press firmly.’
Tremayne had deliberately kept himself between the injured man and the watching ladies. Without turning he spoke to Allegra. ‘Allegra, take Demelza inside. I’ll deal with this.’
She didn’t argue. ‘Come along, Demelza, let us go in. Richard does not want you to see him so discommoded. You know what gentlemen are like about such things.’
She caught the eye of Charles, his arm still protectively around his wife. He understood the unspoken message. ‘Arabella, sweetheart, shall we go in and find your naughty pet?’
Allegra glanced again at Tremayne. She mouthed the word ‘doctor’ and he nodded, his expression grim. She tightened her hold on the softly weeping girl and hurried her inside. Something terrible had occurred. There was too much blood staining the white handkerchief for it to be a mere scratch.
Demelza was bundled into the morning room and a parlour-maid left to attend her. Lady Arabella ran off to look for her cat leaving Charles and Allegra to speak privately.
‘I fear Richard is gravely hurt, Charles. You must send for Dr Jones. As you know, he is usually stationed at the Lion, on days such as this.’
Charles nodded, his face pale. ‘I should have gone up the tree myself. Then none of this would have happened.’
‘Charles, you must not blame yourself. Accidents happen. Since you broke your leg so badly two years ago you know you are not able to climb trees. Richard or Tremayne had to climb, and Richard is far younger, so obviously he volunteered.’ Even as she spoke the words of comfort she was thinking that fetching a cat down from the tree should have been a job for a gardener’s boy.
Charles sent a groom galloping across the park to fetch the doctor. The Lion Inn abutted the far boundary of Great Bentley Hall and could be reached by way of the churchyard. If Dr Jones was
where they expected, he could be with them in a matter of minutes.
A footman had been organized to carry blankets and a parlour-maid to convey brandy and strong wine outside to Tremayne and the invalid. Allegra ran to the kitchen to collect a jug of boiled water and some freshly washed cloths. Then she hurried back to do what she could for her injured brother.
Charles joined her at the French doors. ‘Why has Tremayne not brought Richard inside? He would be far more comfortable. I’ll have the downstairs apartment made ready just in case it’s needed.’
Allegra acknowledged his remark with a nod and hastened towards the two figures under the tray. Her brother was still sitting his back against the trunk, his legs stretched out in front of him. Tremayne knelt in front of him. She could not quite discern what he was doing.
As she approached, closely followed by the servants, she could hear Tremayne talking softly to
Richard. ‘You need to sit still, lad; hold a pad hard against your eye. The doctor will be with us soon.’
His eye? The cat had damaged Richard’s eye by its frantic clawing. Maybe it was not as bad as she had feared. ‘Mr Tremayne I have brought boiled water and clean cloths. I am quite able to deal with Richard’s injuries. I am not missish - I will not swoon away at the sight of his blood.’
Tremayne straightened, patting Richard on the shoulder as he stepped back. He indicated she should move with him until they were out of earshot of the patient. ‘It’s very serious, my dear. I fear Richard has lost his eye.’
Allegra almost dropped the items she was holding. He took them from her and handed them to Charles, standing silently, his face ashen, beside them. ‘Take these over and put them beside Witherton. Drape the blankets over him and give him some brandy. Don’t touch his face, or allow him to remove his hand. Is that clear?’
Charles nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Get on then. I’ll be there in a minute.’ He turned back to her. She tried to step round him, rush over to her twin, and see the injury for herself. ‘No, sweetheart, it’s better if you don’t see him now.’
‘I must, please; we have always shared everything.’ She tried to push past but he restrained her, enclosing her gently in his arms.
‘He doesn’t want you or Demelza to see him like this. He has told me so. Let me deal with it, please. It’s for the best and it is what he wants.’
For a moment she continued to struggle. She caught her breath as a sob threatened to escape. Somehow she found herself enveloped in the arms of the man she believed she hated and despised. She rested her face against his shoulder allowing him to stroke her back; his hands tracing paths of comfort up and down her spine.
Shuddering she raised her head, her eyes awash. ‘He will not die, will he? Please tell me he will not?’
He smiled and dropped a kiss on her parted lips before holding her at arm’s length. ‘Of course he will not die, you ninny. But he will be disfigured and very likely have the sight of only one eye.’
‘As if I care about his looks. He is my dearest brother. If I can be sure he will not perish then I am happy to leave him in your ca
pable hands and will retire to the house. Do you think the doctor will suggest he stays here? Charles is having a downstairs apartment prepared at this very moment for that eventuality.’
‘I’m certain it won’t be safe to drive him home today.’ He hesitated, then pulled her in to rest securely against his heart. Allegra, stunned by his unexpected action, parted her lips in bemusement, and gazed up at him.
He lowered his head, covering her mouth with his own. Allegra froze – for a moment it hung in the balance. Then her lips softened under his she relaxed into his embrace with a sigh. They both forgot the hideous situation, the watching servants, but unwisely he deepened the kiss. Allegra stiffened, jerking her head back in fright. Instantly he stepped away, removing his hands from her arms.
He bowed, his expression sincere. ‘I most humbly apologize, Lady Allegra. That was an unforgivable lapse on my part.’
She stared at him, unsure how to reply. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. ‘We are both overwrought, sir. But as we are an engaged couple, I do not believe we have offended propriety in any way.’
His eyes blazed, his mouth curved. His smile was so powerful Allegra felt her stomach lurch in a very peculiar way.
‘Go in, sweetheart; there’s nothing you can do here. This is going to be difficult time for everyone.’
The sound of pounding feet caused them to look round. Dr Jones, bag in hand, was arriving, two footmen carrying a hurdle between them, bumping along behind.
Tremayne gave Allegra a gentle push in the direction of the Hall. ‘Take care of things inside. Anything that can be done for your brother will be done.’
Reluctantly she did as she was bid. She could hardly believe that in the space of a few minutes what had seemed to be an amusing incident had turned into a tragedy.
Cook had sent out runners to recall all the senior staff that could be found. The butler was now inside to greet her.
‘Lady Allegra, the housekeeper has taken Miss Tremayne to lie down. Lady Arabella and Mrs Murrell have gone up with her. I have to inform you, Miss Grierson is here with Mr Edward. I have placed them in the small withdrawing room.’
‘Thank you. Please have some refreshments sent upstairs and also to the drawing-room.’
An attentive footman escorted Allegra to where the visitors were waiting. She was well acquainted with both Charles’s younger brother and his oldest sister. Miss Grierson was standing, miserably twisting her hands, watching from her vantage point by the open window, the figures gathered under the chestnut tree. Of Edward there was no sign.
‘Emily, what a time to meet again. Richard has severely injured his right eye but his life is in no danger, merely his sight.’
‘LadyAllegra, how awful! For poor Richard to be so disfigured when he is so proud of his looks. I cannot bear to think of it.’
‘Then, I pray you, do not. He has more than enough people worrying over him. Where is Mr Edward? I was told he was in here with you.’
‘He has gone out to the garden to see if he can be of any assistance.’ Emily wiped her eyes. ‘I can hardly credit there has been a second serious accident in the space of two short years. Last time it was my dear brother Charles they bought in on a hurdle, this time it is yours.’ She blew her nose noisily and mercifully stopped talking for a moment.
Allegra joined her at the window. She could see a sombre group carrying the prostrate figure of her brother. Even from here she could see the bandage covering his face. Dr Jones was walking on one side of the makeshift stretcher, Jago on the other. Charles was leading, his face serious, his limp more pronounced than usual.
‘They are bringing Richard into the house. Please excuse me, Miss Grierson, I must go to him.’
As she hurried across the hall she realized that not only Richard’s life had changed. She was so astonished she stopped, shaking her head in disbelief. Somehow over the past few minutes she had stopped thinking of her betrothed as a man beneath her touch. He was no longer ‘Tremayne’, to her he had become ‘her dearest Jago’ and she, for some inexplicable reason, had fallen totally in love with him.
Chapter Eleven
Allegra paused, not sure in which direction to go for Great Bentley Hall was a vast modern edifice and this her first visit. The property had been given to Charles on his marriage to Arabella in March, by his foster sister, Marianne, now the Countess of Wister.
She spied the butler crossing the hall and beckoned him over. ‘Please conduct me to the rooms in which Lord Witherton is to be housed.’
The black garbed gentleman bowed politely. ‘They have prepared the ground floor apartment, the one old Sir James used, my lady. I will take you, if you would care to follow me.’
She could hear voices as they rounded the corner. The rooms she sought were situated at the rear of the building, away from any bustle and having convenient access to the garden. Allegra hesitated at the doorway, not wishing to interfere. The bed chamber door, which led from the large, airy sitting-room, was ajar, but she could not see what was happening inside.
She guessed the footman would be placing Richard on the bed. She would not go in, not yet, not until Jago told her Richard was ready to receive visitors. She walked further into the room, not sure whether to sit or remain standing. She selected an upright wooden chair, with a padded seat,
and perched on it. Scarcely two minutes had passed when, unable to keep still, she stood up and began pacing, back and forth, her half boots silent on the thick pile of the oriental carpet.
What was happening behind the door? Why didn’t Jago come out of tell her how Richard was doing? She felt hollow - as if someone had reached in and scooped out her insides - making it impossible for her to breathe or swallow.
She halted in front of the French doors, her back to the bedroom, staring out over the garden. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as if attempting to console herself. She did not hear Jago approaching.
His arms slid around her, pulling her close. He said nothing but his warmth, his strength, gave her the comfort she needed. She leant back, turning her face into the softness of his crumpled shirt, loving the experience of being held safe in the embrace of the man she loved.
Slowly her tension drained away and she felt strong enough to turn, to study his face for the answer to the question she could not bring herself to ask. He met her enquiring gaze, his eyes filled with regret and she knew.
‘Oh no! My poor Richard.’
‘He’ll make a full recovery, but his eye cannot be saved. Dr Jones is doing what he can to repair the damage. There will be scars, his face will no longer be a thing of beauty.’ His hands clenched behind her. ‘If I can lay my hands on the dratted animal I’ll break its neck.’
*
He should drop his hands, release her. But to his delight Allegra tentatively stretched up to run her fingers over his cheeks. He froze, not wishing to spoil the moment by a sudden, off-putting movement.
‘You need a shave, Jago. I can feel the stubble of your beard.’
Her fingers traced the outline of his lips and he could remain still no longer. One hand moved to cup her head the other pressed her so close that he could feel her soft contours against his heated body. Then her fingers travelled lightly round to link behind his neck, dragging his head down. Her eyes told him what he wanted to know. His mouth enveloped hers, his lips moving slowly, seductively. This time she didn’t pull back.
He crushed her breasts against his chest and lifted her from the floor. Then she was back on the carpet, and she swayed, needing his arms to keep her upright.
’Jago, you have no jacket on. You are still in your shirt sleeves.’
‘I am, my darling; I must apologize for having the temerity to kiss you improperly dressed.’
A gurgle of laughter greeted his dry comment. ‘I do believe, sir, that you are dressed as befits the occasion. Improper behaviour does not require a jacket.’ He smiled and she was obliged to clutch at his shirt front for support.
A discreet co
ugh from just behind caused them to jump apart, but he kept his arm around her waist as they turned round to face the bed-chamber door.‘My lady, sir, Lord Witherton is comfortable and asleep. I have given him laudanum to facilitate his rest and allow his body to recover from the trauma.’
‘What is the prognosis, Dr Jones?’ He was relieved her voice was firm.
‘He has lost the sight in his right eye. I have done what I can to repair the damage but he will never see from it again, of that I am certain.’
‘How badly is he disfigured?’ Jago asked the question she had not voiced.
‘The majority of the scratches are superficial and they will heal completely. However those around his right eye and cheek will not. Lord Witherton might feel more comfortable with a patch in future; that should cover up the worst.’
Allegra swallowed a gasp of horror. Jago tightened his hold protectively. ‘Thank you, Dr Jones. My brother is a strong man; he will not allow this to ruin his life. When will we be able to move him, take him back to the Priory?’
The doctor’s brow furrowed. ‘If he does not develop a fever overnight then I should think it will be safe to move him tomorrow or the next day. I will reassess the situation when I return in the morning.’
Charles had emerged from the sickroom as the doctor concluded his speech. He waited quietly until the butler escorted the physician out. ‘Blake, my housekeeper, is willing to act as nurse. But Richard has made it abundantly clear he doesn’t wish either you, Allegra, or Miss Tremayne, to be involved in his care.’
‘He is right, my love; you take Demelza home. I shall stay here. Grierson and I can do what is necessary for Witherton.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, Jago. If I cannot be by Richard’s side myself then I am content you should be here in my stead.’
‘Will you take some refreshment before you leave, Lady Allegra?’
‘I am not hungry, thank you Mr Grierson. I would prefer to return as soon as possible.’
To Marry a Duke Page 10