The sound steadied her and, after drawing another deep breath, she held it. Surely she would hear the breathing of any attacker waiting for her. She remembered how Dom José had panted as he drove her up the path to the house. But there was no sound of breathing inside the door Sabrina entered. The scullery was dimmer than the lawn outside, but she could see well enough to determine that no one else was in the room.
By the time Sabrina found candles and the flint and tinder with which to light them, she had begun to believe Dom José had forgotten about her. Now she trembled with exhaustion, and simple grief overwhelmed her. She could not bear to look at the two still bodies lying in the front hall. Crying softy, she crept up the back stairs. She must find her guns or William’s and load them and then rouse the men in the stable. But when she came into her own room, so normal, so untouched by the incredible events that had taken place, Sabrina set down her branch of candles and sank down on the bed, unable to drive her body further. She only meant to rest for a few minutes, but sleep came in a huge velvety black wave that she could not resist.
As Perce set his foot on the first step he became aware that the door of the house was open. He shouted to Sergei that something was wrong, and leapt up the remainder of the steps. Sergei called for him to wait and looked for a place to tether the horses. By the time he had wound the reins around an ornamental bush a few feet away, he heard Perce cry out again in surprise and then shout a warning to stop in the doorway because someone was lying on the floor. Sergei hurried up the steps, arriving just as Perce exclaimed, “Katy! My God, it’s Katy! Sergei, get us some light.”
In turning to obey his master, well away from where Perce knelt, Sergei’s foot struck something soft. He bent, felt, withdrew his hand hastily. “The manservant,” he growled,” he is dead.”
Perce’s first shout of alarm had wakened Sabrina, and she jerked upright, panting with fear. His second inarticulate cry of surprise as he tripped over Katy, who had managed to drag herself right to the door, brought Sabrina off the bed, looking wildly for a place to hide. When she heard the name Sergei and recognized Perce’s voice, she put her hands to her head, fearing that need, desire, and terror had driven her insane. But she had not thought of Perce, not once during the terrible hours of that night. Why should she imagine he was here now? And then she heard Sergei’s shocked exclamations—in Russian!
Sabrina clapped her hands over her lips to hold back a shriek of joy. It must be true, yet it could not be. She must be mad, yet she did not feel mad. She remembered everything, and when she looked down at herself, there was evidence that she had not dreamed a nightmare or made up the horrors. Her dress was torn and stained with earth and grass; the palms of her hands were scored with her falls; she ached with bruises. Sabrina crept out into the upper hall and across to where she could look down the stairs.
As she reached the edge a candle flickered to life. Sabrina saw quite clearly Perce’s golden head bent over a still form and Sergei’s bulk going down on his knees with the candle in his hand. To the side, Charlot’s body lay. Sabrina averted her eyes and her mouth opened to call all out just as Perce’s initial shock passed enough for his mind really to grasp the situation. He leapt to his feet, bellowing, “Sabrina! Sabrina!”
“Here,” she cried.
Her voice was faint, thin as a child’s cry. It was impossible to tell whether Perce heard her, but he was already running up the stairs and she staggered forward a few steps and fell into his arms. For the first few minutes nothing intelligible was said on either side. Perce held Sabrina to him, alternately assuring her she was now safe and asking what had happened. And she alternately tried to tell him what had happened and asked reassurance that he was really there, that she was not dreaming or mad.
Convinced at last of his presence, Sabrina’s grief broke over her. “Katy’s dead,” she sobbed. Katy’s dead.”
“No, love, no, she isn’t,” Perce told her. “Stop crying and listen. Katy—”
But there was more convincing proof than Perce’s words. Katy’s own voice crying Sabrina’s name interrupted him. And Sergei’s followed, admonishing Katy to lie still. Fool of a woman that she was, he told her, she had broken her leg and her head, too, and could not get up.
Sabrina flew down the stairs, now weeping with joy, and confusion reigned for some minutes more. While the women wept and kissed each other, Perce closed the door and had a hasty consultation with Sergei. He was very uneasy over the situation. He did not like the necessity of explaining a murder so far from the British embassy in a country in which he could speak no more than a few words of the language.
Worse yet, he had heard the official attitude was anti-British. True, he had seen nothing of that among the people, who seemed uniformly pleasant and open to strangers. Nonetheless, the notion of explaining what had happened to the legal authorities made him decidedly uncomfortable. But Katy had to have a doctor to set her leg. Sergei had straightened it while she was still in a faint, but it was grossly swollen and neither Perce nor Sergei wished to try to set it. On the other hand, with a dead man on the floor next to Katy, it was impossible for them to leave the women unprotected.
At this point Sabrina interrupted the discussion by saying, “I’ll go to the stable. One of the grooms must ride for a doctor and to tell the regador about this at once.”
“Of course,” Perce exclaimed with relief.
“But had we better move Katy to a sofa first? The floor is, all blood and Charlot…“ Sabrina swallowed hard, but she was in complete possession of herself now. Sure of Katy’s safety, she could bear the other horrors. She was sorry for Charlot and would truly grieve for William when she had time, but it was most important to see to Katy’s comfort.
Sergei grunted approval of this plan and went to the scullery to wrench a light closet door off its hinges. They moved Katy onto this and then to a sofa in the drawing room. As gentle as they tried to be, Katy very nearly fainted again, explaining in a thread of a voice as Sabrina lifted her head and held a glass of wine to her lips, that the loss of consciousness had happened again and again.
“When I came to meself under the stair, I tried to get up, and I went off. And every time I tried to move. I wanted to go to the stable to get the men, but I’d only move a few inches and go off again. How did ye get away from him, luv?”
“From whom? What happened?” Perce asked.
“Doctor first,” Sabrina said.
“Yes, you can tell me on the way,” Perce agreed, assuming from Sabrina’s willingness to go outside that there was no danger.
However, no sooner had she stepped out of the door than a man shouted a single word and rushed toward her. Sabrina shrank back with a cry of fear, and Perce stepped around her and struck the oncoming man heavily on the jaw. Hearing the noise, Sergei rushed out and hauled the half-dazed man to his feet, securing his arms behind him. A torrent of Portuguese poured from him, in which the first word he had said was repeated frequently.
Everyone’s attention was on the captured man. No one noticed Dom José’s second servant who had come around from the back at his companion’s shout in time to see him seized. He would have run back to des Ermidas, except he knew there was no one there who could do anything. And although Dom José was not a bad master, he could be very severe when his instructions were not obeyed.
Pablo shrank back into the shadows and watched. He had been told to prevent the lady from escaping. He could no longer do so if the two men accompanied her, but he could watch and tell his master which road she took. That would be better than nothing. He found a place off to the side where he could watch the paths from both front and rear doors. There was no need to be close now, since he was no longer trying to guard the doors.
Unaware of the watcher, Perce, Sabrina, and Sergei stared at their captive. “What did he say?” Perce asked Sabrina, rubbing his knuckles.
She stared, wide-eyed. “I think he is calling me a murderess,” she replied in a shocked
voice, and then, “Oh, he’s mad, but—”
“Who?’ Perce roared. “Not this creature. Whom the devil are you talking about?”
“Dom José. The man who rented us the house. Didn’t you hear what I said? He—he shot William and his wife—in bed.” She shuddered. “I—I saw them. I thought—for a moment I thought they were m-making love. I—I told you.”
He put his arms around her. “Maybe you did, darling, but you were crying so hard I guess I didn’t understand you. But who the devil is this?” He gestured to the man they had captured. “And why call you a murderess?”
Sabrina put a hand to her head. “I don’t know who he is, and it’s such a long story. But we must get a doctor for Katy first.”
“Take him into the house and tie him up,” Perce said to Sergei. Looking then to Sabrina, he continued, “We can ride my horses to the stables. I left them just outside. Can you ride astride? I’d go myself, but your men don’t know me, and I haven’t more than two or three words of Portuguese.”
She nodded wordlessly, her mind busy assembling all the peculiarities of what Dom José had done. Perce lifted her to the saddle. She had to raise her narrow skirt above her thighs, but did not give it a thought. Perce had seen her legs before, and she was quite unaware of Pablo, who gasped and cursed when he saw Perce put her up on the horse. The best he could do was run out to the road and across it into the shadow of the trees. Pablo’s haste deprived him of a sight he would have found most titillating had he not been so worried.
The white thighs might not be new, but they were a devilish distraction in spite of the urgency of the situation. Perce could not resist kissing the one nearest him. Sabrina quivered and put a hand on his head. He turned his cheek against her leg and sighed, fumbling behind the saddle to unstrap his cloak. Then he kissed her again before he flung the cloak around her to preserve the decencies.
There was no great difficulty in waking the grooms; explaining what had happened was harder. Sabrina was able to speak Portuguese, but words like “attacked” and “killed” were not part of the everyday vocabulary one used with servants or in polite conversation during a visit. Sabrina compromised and used the word of which she was sure. There had been an accident. A doctor was urgently needed. She saw she was understood. One groom ran off to dress himself while another went to saddle a horse for him to ride.
“It’s just too hard to explain,” she said to Perce. “The doctor may speak English, and anyway he’ll see Charlot. He can explain to a groom and send for the regador. I can’t believe another hour would matter. If Dom José intended to run away, he’s likely to have done so already.”
“Yes. I’m glad you didn’t tell him to fetch the law. Let’s get back to the house.”
A third groom accompanied them to take the animals they were riding back to the stable. They had other company, too. Pablo offered many a prayer of thanksgiving when he saw the lady and her companion going back to the house.
Inside, Perce and Sabrina found Sergei had brought the captive into the drawing room so the Russian could watch him and Katy at the same time. It was she who recognized the man as Dom José’s servant. She had learned about as much Portuguese as Sabrina but from dealing with the maids on a more personal level, Katy had obtained a different vocabulary. Thus, she was better able to understand what Manuelo said. At first she was so indignant that she nearly told Sergei to throttle him. Fury, reduction in her pain, the relief of knowing that Brina was safe, and—surprisingly important—the security that Sergei’s presence gave her, had restored much of Katy’s strength. When Sabrina and Perce came in, she knew the whole story except one important piece—there was another watcher.
“He says Dom José has gone to Lousa to be accusin’ ye of murder,” Katy raged. “He told this man that he left his guns here, that ye were ravin’ mad because he hinted to ye that Himself was unfaithful. How did I fail down the stair, then, I ask? Oh, says he I must have been tryin’ to stop ye from goin to murder the pair of them, so ye pushed me, then grabbed the guns and shot poor Charlot. Then ye ran to the house, breakin’ a pane in the door—the servants found one broke—then shot the two. When ye heard Dom José yellin’ for help, ye locked the doors and climbed out the window.”
“But I didn’t have the guns!” Sabrina said.
“Oh they found those, too. Right under the window,” Katy said bitterly.
“It’s ridiculous!” Sabrina cried. “How could I have had time to move the dressing table and slit the drapes and tie them up—“
“Of course it’s ridiculous,” Perce agreed, but he was frowning. “Still, I don’t like it, not at all. Dom José is a wealthy landholder around here, and this regador you mentioned is going to be very reluctant to displease him. Add to that the fact that his servants will swear he never left the house, plus the disadvantage that none of us can really speak Portuguese. Sergei, take this man and dump him in the cellar.”
Sabrina turned frightened eyes to her lover. “You don’t think the regador will believe him!”
“I don’t know,” Perce replied thoughtfully. “And anyhow, believing isn’t what I’m worried about. Boney’s going to take over Portugal, and English influence will disappear. I think everyone must know that. From the regador’s point of view, it might not be worth stirring up a local hornet’s nest for an Englishwoman. He can assume you’re guilty and insane and send you back to Lisbon for Strangford to deal with.”
“I won’t stand for it!” Sabrina exclaimed, her eyes blazing. “Katy will back me up.”
“And a whole house full of servants will back up Dom José.”
“Are you saying I should allow him to accuse me of murder and not defend myself?” Sabrina shrieked.
“No,” Perce replied, pulling her toward him. “I’m saying it would be best for you if we went back to Lisbon and told your story to Strangford before any accusations are made. I don’t think this regador will do much if he knows you’re gone. He’ll probably be relieved.”
“But Dom José shot Charlot and almost killed Katy,” Sabrina exclaimed. “I won’t let him get away with it and blame me!”
“No, of course not,” Perce soothed, “but the way to deal with it is through Portuguese lawyers in Lisbon. You’ll accuse him from there.”
“Won’t it look as if I’ve run away?” Sabrina asked, and then said, “But we can’t go. Katy can’t go.”
“No. Katy stays here. That’s proof you haven’t run away. Also, if the regador asks about what happened here, Dom José will probably say, or imply, that Katy is an innocent victim of your lunacy.” He raised a questioning brow toward Katy, and she nodded. “He can’t go back on that without making the rest of his story look fishy.”
“I won’t leave Katy alone,” Sabrina said.
“No, neither would I. Sergei will stay and accompany her to Lisbon as soon as the doctor says she can travel. Since she will be questioned, your side of the story will go on record here too.”
“Yes,” Katy said at once, “ye go, Brina. If ye dinna go, like as not we’ll all end up in the soup. Ye’ll lose yer temper, and then I’ll lose mine. Then we’ll both say things that will make the regador mad, and that canna help.”
“If I stay and take her south alone,” Sergei put in, “Should I marry her now?”
The question was obviously addressed to Perce and Sabrina, and Sergei looked from one to the other. Perce opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Sabrina, who had been kneeling near Katy, sat back on her heels, overbalanced, and landed with a thump on her behind. Katy gasped and flushed rosily, suddenly looking quite young and pretty.
“Ye dirty ox,” she said, in the broken mixture of languages in which she and Sergei communicated, “I’m no slave, whatever ye are. It’s me ye ask if ye want me.”
Sergei turned his eyes to her. “This is no time to play games,” he replied. “In the end we marry. This is true—no? So I ask which time is best for my little father and for the great lady.”
>
This time it was Katy who opened her mouth without producing any response. Sabrina had clapped a hand across her own lips to smother near hysterical giggles. Katy and Sergei! It was ridiculous! And yet it was not at all ridiculous, Sabrina realized in a flash of insight. She had never known Katy’s husband, but Katy’s father had been much like Sergei—big, quiet, patient—only Sergei was much cleverer. The realization only made Sabrina giggle more. The stretching silence was a perfectly clear indication that Katy did intend to accept Sergei, and that she had no answer to his astute remark.
“Not in Portugal,” Perce said at last in so wooden a tone that Sabrina did not dare look at him. If she did, she knew his control might disintegrate, and for him to whoop with laughter would be unkind. Sabrina herself nearly strangled subduing her mirth. “However,” Perce went on more easily as he concentrated on the meaning of Sergei’s question and did not find that in the least funny, “if you have to go back to England on a ship other than the one Sabrina and I take, ask the captain to marry you. That will make the voyage safer and easier for Katy, since the ship might be very crowded.”
“Go back on a different ship?” Katy exclaimed. “But why?”
“It may be a week or two before you are fit to travel,” Perce replied, “and the trip to Lisbon will be slow for you, too. Lord Strangford might want Brina to leave at once. I have permission for her to go on a naval vessel. We might have to sail before you arrive in Lisbon.”
“No!” Sabrina cried.
“Yes!” Katy contradicted with considerable force “Dinna ye be a stubborn fool, Brina. If ye willna go, I’ll have to travel before I’m ready for it. Ye know I’ll do it if ye willna go without me, so dinna force it on me. Sergei will see me safe. Do ye doubt he can?”
The Kent Heiress Page 34