The Lonely Earl

by Vanessa Gray

  The sound of carriage wheels on the hard dirt of the stableyard below roused Hugh. Peering cautiously through the grimy window, he was gratified to see that his instructions to Ned had been carried out to the letter. Dr. Harper arrived in the Crale coach, with the Crale arms blazoned on the panel. Sure evidence that Pendarvis was wounded, but had not yet slipped his wind.

  He waited only to see the doctor’s graying head emerge from the carriage before he hurried to the stairhead to direct him. “Up this way!” Harper’s head jerked up suspiciously, but he had been impressed by the need for haste, and he did not waste time on questions. Not until he got to the door of the room where his patient was did he get a good look at his guide.

  He opened his mouth to protest, but Hugh gestured him inside the room. Closing the door behind them, Hugh said, “I am sorry I asked Ned to mislead you, but you do have a patient.” He gestured toward the bed.

  With a muttered exclamation the doctor bent to examine his patient. Raising his head, he said sharply, “I don’t pretend to understand, Lord Pendarvis, but this man I have seen before.”

  “Of course,” said Hugh. “He is Aubrey Talbot, and I fear he is in quite desperate condition. I could not have any confidence in the local quack. But… did you follow my instructions?”

  “To the letter,” said Harper indignantly. “Even to the nurse. Now, if you please, leave me to my patient. And send the nurse in when she gets here.”

  Obediently, Hugh slipped into the hall. There was nothing like a doctor, he thought, with his vast secret lore, to lower one into a chastened mood.

  He heard light footsteps climbing the stairs. The nurse, no doubt. Hugh waited. The nurse rounded the comer into the hall, and Hugh almost reeled. Of all the people in the world whom he did not wish to see…

  He faced the top of his mental list. “Faustina!”

  It took only a moment for Faustina to recover her wits. “Good afternoon, Lord Pendarvis,” she said with distant civility. “I trust I see you well?” She could not keep her voice from trembling as she added, “The oddest rumor came my way — that you were ill. Mortally wounded, I think the story ran.”

  “And you came.” Surprise and strong disapproval colored his voice. She would ruin everything! “I wish you will not use my name or my title.” said Hugh repressively. “The patient in the room behind us carries both, for the moment.”

  “Ah, then there is a patient?” said Faustina, aware that she had come very close to making a fool of herself. She had a strong impulse, at first, to cry out with relief in seeing Hugh whole, but now her relief turned to indignant anger. She could have thrown something at his head with great pleasure. “I wonder who he might be? Anyone I am acquainted with?”

  “I suppose you must know,” said Hugh grudgingly. “Aubrey.”

  Her reaction was all he could have wished. Shock swept over her face, to be followed immediately by acute dismay. “All my fault!” she cried softly. “Is his condition serious?”

  “Very, I would judge.” Hugh prevented her from entering. “The doctor sent me out He will be better alone for a bit with Aubrey, I think.”

  He watched her face pale, and then redden slowly. There was clearly more here than he knew. He could wish that she had come posthaste and without regard for the proprieties to comfort his own presumed deathbed — although he would rather not consider the experiment! — but her relief upon seeing him hale was temperate in the extreme. No, Faustina had other reasons. He set himself to ferret them out.

  “Your fault? How can that be, Miss Kennett? You did not know he was here.”

  “No, no, that is true. I thought they had shot you, that he was too late. But instead, it was Aubrey, and it’s my fault.” She paced a few steps back and forward in the hall. He waited, judging accurately that her agitation would burst out in speech, which he hoped would be more enlightening. “You see, Aubrey was coming to warn you.”

  It was Hugh’s turn to be startled. “Warn me? Then you knew about the ambush ahead of time, and you let Aubrey ride into it?”

  She regarded him with disgust. “Try not to be more stupid than you must. Of course I did not let him ride into an ambush. But there was to be an attempt on your life sometime, and Mr. Talbot volunteered to warn you.”

  “Why Aubrey?” Hugh’s voice was cold.

  “Because, stupid, he’s the only one who knew where you were!” Tears welled up in her eyes and threatened to course down her cheeks. Hugh felt an odd stirring within him, an overwhelming urge to hold her in his arms and comfort her. He dared not.

  “And you wished me put on my guard. I wonder why, since you dislike me so much.”

  Faustina thought in time of the direction this conversation was leading her. Confusion reigned in her emotions, but she was able to suppress them, although not without difficulty.

  “To keep my cousin from making a mistake that could ruin his career! With you dead, the rest of the smugglers would get away, and Ned would have failed!” She was obscurely proud of her quick invention. The effect upon Hugh was all that she could have wished. But her satisfaction turned sour.

  Hugh grabbed her arm and said, “You’ve got to leave this place! At once!”

  “You’re taking too much upon yourself!” she told him frigidly.

  He loosed her, but said savagely, “You’ve spoiled everything with your impulsive careening across the country. Go down and take my carriage back to your precious family!”

  He was only half-angry. He must devise a way to remove her from this inn before his quarry moved into his trap. The only way he knew was to make her so incensed that she would flounce out — out of his life.

  But he had not reckoned with her strong sense of duty. ‘I must not go,” she told him. “It is my fault that Aubrey is lying in there, and I came to nurse him.”

  “You came to nurse me” he told her bluntly. “And I am, as you see, in good health.”

  She looked down at her enlaced fingers as she considered. “But that’s it! You are well enough to leave. You must get away. Hugh, you must leave at once!”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t you understand anything I’ve said? Ned has proof that you are the head smuggler, or whatever you call it.”

  “I don’t call it anything. Why should I? Don’t you believe I’m innocent? I remember now — you said the rest of the smugglers would get away! And yet you came—”

  “It doesn’t matter why I came,” she cried. “Ned has proof, don’t you understand? You must get away. You can’t go back to Crale.”

  Hugh stared at her. His feeling for her was strong enough to bring them both to ruin, were he to let it. But just now he dared not speak of it. There were lives at stake. He had laid his trap, but now Faustina had unwittingly walked into it, and they might all founder if the trap were to fail.

  But Faustina had said one word that gave him hope. He dared to take another moment to test his conclusions.

  “But where will I go?” he said reasonably.

  “Anywhere! Just go! Now!”

  “Will you help me?”

  “Yes, yes. Only, don’t just stand there!”

  Then, satisfied in his own mind, he told her, “I can’t go. You see, I have plans.”

  “But what happens,” she said tartly, “if you are in prison? What of your plans then?”

  The vision of Faustina pressing her face to the bars to bid him farewell crossed his mind. Sternly he suppressed it.

  He sighed exaggeratedly. “I see I must tell you. I have let it be known that it is indeed Pendarvis lying wounded to death in there. And those who shot me — or think they shot me — will be anxious to finish the job before I remember who did the shooting.”

  “But you’re in great danger!” she cried softly.

  “Not the way I originally planned it. You see, my thought was to hide behind the curtains in Aubrey’s room and watch to see who came to kill him. And then we’d know.”

  “But suppose your plan failed?”

&n
bsp; “It has,” he said ruefully. “Thanks to you.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You’re here,” he said simply. “And I must not put you in jeopardy.”

  Then Faustina drew unconsciously upon the proud Kennett heritage: Kennetts had followed Frobisher down the channel in pursuit of the Duke of Medina Sidonia in 1588, had mustered an army to succor King Charles the First at Oxford…

  “Why not?” she said quietly. “I could watch and give the alarm — or anything else that you think of.”

  Dr. Harper emerged like a bullet from Aubrey’s room. “He’ll do, I think. But I must find Miss Bucknell…” His words were lost as he shot past them toward the stairs.

  With one accord Hugh and Faustina moved into Aubrey’s room. “His breathing is easier,” said Hugh after a moment. Then he roused. “Miss Bucknell? Is she here too?” he said blankly. This was the very devil to pay, he thought. Two delicately nurtured females to protect.

  “Of course,” said Faustina. “Bucky is a wonder in a sickroom. And I so feared…” Her voice died, and she looked away in rosy confusion.

  Softly he said, “You could be killed, you know.”

  “I know. Or what is even worse, maimed. But,” she said with a sudden chuckle, “in that case, Aunt Louisa would find it necessary to return at once to London. It might be worth the trouble!”

  His face remained set in harsh outlines, but his eyes smiled. “You won’t go? I see you won’t. Well, then, let me consider how best to protect you.”

  But it was already too late.

  Chapter 18

  Bucky, carrying a basket, the contents covered by snowy linen, hurried into the room. “Here’s the satchel that the doctor wanted,” she panted, sadly short of breath. “He said to set it down in the patient’s room.” She became aware of the earl’s presence. “But, sir, I thought…”

  “My fault.” The earl smiled. “How good of you to come to nurse me. But perhaps you won’t mind Mr. Talbot as a patient instead?”

  “Of course not,” said Bucky. “But I must tell you, sir, something strange is occurring downstairs.”

  “What?” demanded Faustina apprehensively.

  “Dr. Harper called from the door and asked me to bring up the basket from the coach. But now, Lord Pendarvis, he’s gone. There’s nobody downstairs. And even the landlord has disappeared!”

  Now that Bucky had brought them out of their preoccupation with each other, they noticed the unusual silence surrounding them. An inn was usually excessively raucous. Cries of ostlers, clattering of wheeled carts, even the landlord clumping about his tables, and his wife dealing with bread and meats in the kitchen — all the ordinary sounds of an inn were uneasily stilled.

  Now, thought Faustina, edging imperceptibly toward Hugh, the silence was positively eerie.

  Hugh recognized the significance of the silence. Crisis was upon them. His heart smote him as he watched the pale face of his love. But it was too late for compunction.

  “Miss Bucknell, do you stay by the patient,” said Hugh firmly. He looked from the window. “If the landlord has been reached.” he said to Faustina, “then they know there are two earls.”

  “Didn’t you tell him not to give your secret away?”

  “My dear,” said Hugh wistfully, “I could not bring myself to use force to convince him. But these others have no such delicacy, I would judge.”

  The inn yard was empty. Carts were left in odd places, unless one noticed that they were in ideal situations to provide a makeshift rampart. The horses were out of sight — in the stables, no doubt. Not even a dog trotted across the yard below.

  And inside the inn, that eerie silence. The attackers must have captured the doctor. Where were they now?

  “Like a castle siege,” said Faustina, feeling excitement welling up in her. It was all very well, she thought, to abhor violence, to be delicately nurtured, and finely behaved, but when one was faced with force, ugly and brutal, then the ability to accomplish fine embroidery seemed a bit useless.

  “Exactly,” murmured Hugh. “I could wish the walls around us to be a bit stouter.”

  “What can we do?” she breathed. “Where are they? I don’t see anybody.”

  He pulled her quickly back from the window. “They’re out there, whether you can see them or not. All we can do now is wait.”

  Wait, she thought in disappointment. Wait for what? The sky to fall? The earth to swallow up the malefactors?

  “They are trying…” said Hugh, after some time in which nothing stirred anywhere, except for an obscure thudding that stopped after a moment, “they are trying to wear us out. We can outwait them.”

  “A puerile plan,” said Faustina smartly.

  “You have a better?” said Hugh.

  She eyed him narrowly. He did not seem unduly worried. Of course, he stayed away from the window, where a bullet might easily find its mark. And he insisted that the candle at the bedside be extinguished.

  But Faustina was never burdened with too much patience. She stirred briefly now. “Pendarvis, can’t we —?”

  “No.”

  She had more than enough time to think. She began to analyze her reasons for coming to warn Hugh. Prodded by his persistent “Why?” she began to peel off the veiling layers. She went more and more slowly the closer she got to the core of her motive. There was a kernel within that she was quite sure she did not wish to look at.

  “He’s worse, Faustina.” Bucky’s hand rested on Aubrey’s forehead. “His fever is rising.”

  “I must get the doctor,” said Faustina briskly. “He has to be in the inn.”

  Hugh was before her at the door. “You will not go in search of the doctor. I forbid you.”

  “But…” She gestured at the inert figure on the bed. “We can’t talk here.”

  He allowed himself to be urged into the hall. It was empty, of course. Only a fool would try to storm them in the narrow hall, not knowing how well armed the foe might be. Like a shooting alley.

  “He’s going to die, I know it,” Faustina cried urgently. “We’ve got to get the doctor.”

  “And where will you look for him? Miss Bucknell couldn’t find him.”

  “I’ve got to try.”

  His only hope of keeping Faustina safe, Hugh believed was to keep her in the room with him. He had a gun, for what good it might do against an armed and determined band. But he also knew his friend needed help.

  “I’ll go myself,” he said.

  “No, Hugh!” she cried. “You’re the one they’re after. They’ll shoot you on sight!”

  “I really must question your papa upon your reading matter.”

  Faustina gave that observation the oblivion it rightly deserved. She moved slightly away from the door, and Hugh moved to face her. Suddenly she cried out, clapping her fingers to her mouth, and cried, staring at the window behind him, “Ooh!”

  Hugh whirled to face the unknown peril. In a flash Faustina was running to the stairs, her light feet pattering on the wooden floor.

  He was too late to catch her, he decided furiously at the top of the stairs, peering down into the darkness be low. He realized that he was outlined against the dim light, a perfect target.

  Hastily he withdrew. His thoughts were too dark for comfort, but he could do nothing about them now. Except of course to wring her neck when he saw her again. He would not admit the word “if’ to his thoughts.

  With reluctant admiration at her cleverness, nonetheless, he turned back to the sickroom. There seemed, at the moment, nothing else to do.

  Faustina found the lower floor of the inn unlighted. The heavy, smoke-darkened beams excluded much of the light that might have fought its way through small, dirty windows. In automatic response to the silence that pervaded the inn, she tiptoed through the lower floor. The open taproom, deserted. The private parlor. A small back room that served as a cupboard, filled with brooms and mops. Mostly unused, she thought, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the dirty floors.
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br />   Back to the front of the inn, where she reached the counter dividing the office from the taproom. In a corner she found the object of her search. “Dr. Harper!” she cried. “What has…?”

  He shook his head vigorously. The reason he did not speak to her, she discovered belatedly, was a broad strip of cloth binding his jaws, shutting his mouth. His hands, as well, seemed to be tied behind his back. She had little time to observe all this. Hearing a slight sound behind her, and warned by the doctor’s shifting eyes, she turned quickly.

  Not quickly enough. She was aware only of an uplifted hand, holding a dark object, before the blow fell. She did not even feel the impact in the second before her world turned dark.

  *

  Hugh was apprised of the fate of Faustina when he heard his name called from the bottom of the stairs. He answered from the upper floor, “Who is there? What do you want?”

  He recognized without surprise the voice that answered him. Maddox, out of sight beyond the stairs. “I’ve got a nice little hostage here, your lordship. And I think you may wish to get her back, before the goods, so to speak, are damaged further.”

  With savage pain Hugh roared, “What have you done to her?”

  “Now, there’s no need to get overly agog, you know. She’s all right and tight here,” said Maddox, “and she’ll stay that way. Unless you’re not the smart fellow I thought you were.”

  Maddox had clearly abandoned all pretense of servility, and therefore was exceedingly dangerous, with no bridges left to burn.

  “We need the doctor up here,” said Hugh. “Send him up unharmed. Then we’ll talk.”

  There was a conference out of sight at the foot of the stairs. “Can’t do it, your lordship.”

  “You’ll have to,” said Hugh with creditable control, “or there will be no further discussion. I don’t suppose you’d want to have a dying man’s misery on your conscience. Send the doctor.”

  Whether it was from old habit of obedience, or whether he felt there could be no harm in it, Maddox nonetheless limped to the counter beyond which sat Harper, and now, similarly tied and gagged, Faustina.