Lord Kane's Keepsake

by Sandra Heath

  The Earl of Cranforth was seated on a cushioned cane chair of surprisingly large proportions, its curved back framing his frail figure almost like the decoration on a Russian icon. He had a volume of botanical illustrations on the table before him, and he was pouring very diligently over it, gazing shortsightedly at the exquisite paintings, and then at a sprig of greenery in his bony hand.

  Emma remembered him well from the brief glimpse she had had of him when he drove past her in Park Lane. His fine-boned, aristocratic face was a little pale, and, like her father, he wore a tasseled day cap and a number of warm shawls around his thin shoulders, even though it was stiflingly hot in the conservatory. Everything about him reminded her irresistibly of her father, even to his chosen reading matter.

  He became suddenly aware of their approach and looked up quickly from his book, removing his spectacles from the end of his nose. “Ah, there you are, m’boy,” he said, his watery blue eyes moving swiftly to encompass Emma.

  “How are you, Grandfather?” Gerald inquired.

  “Tolerable, m’boy, tolerable. I loathe traveling almost as much as I loathe London, but I am content that it is all in a good cause.” The old man’s gaze returned to Emma, and he rose shakily to his feet.

  Gerald hastened to effect the important introduction. “Grandfather, I would like to present Miss Rutherford. Miss Rutherford, my grandfather, the Earl of Cranforth.”

  The earl’s hand was like a claw as he took her fingers and drew them to his lips. “We meet at last, m’dear,’’ he murmured, his glance sharp and shrewd.

  “I am honored to make your acquaintance, my lord earl,” she replied, sinking into a graceful curtsy.

  “Let me look at you properly.”

  She stood there awkwardly as he surveyed her slowly from head to toe, and then he looked into her eyes for a long moment. At last he smiled. “You have a steady gaze, m’dear, and I like that in a woman. I cannot abide fluttering eyelashes and coyness, of which faults you seem thankfully free. I confess I was somewhat taken aback to learn that my grandson’s choice was someone of whom I had never even heard, but now that I’ve met you, I can see that he is most certainly not a fool. Sit down, m’dear, sit down.” He gestured toward a second cane chair. A third awaited Gerald.

  The earl looked intently at her when she was seated. “Would you care for some refreshment, m’dear? Some tea, perhaps?”

  “That would be most agreeable, sir,” she replied, her glance drawn to a decanter and glasses on the table before him. ‘‘But please do not feel compelled to drink tea with me, for I am sure you would prefer your cognac,” she said.

  He looked at her with thorough approval. “Upon m’soul, a wench with consideration for an old man’s failings! Gerald, m’boy, I thought such wonderful beings were extinct, but it seems that you have found one!”

  Gerald smiled. “And not before time?” he murmured.

  His grandfather pursed his lips. “You know full well what I think of your hitherto questionable taste. A suitable decision on your part is most certainly long overdue.”

  Gerald glanced at him, and then lowered his eyes to the open volume on the table. “Sir Joseph’s gift?”

  The earl pursed his lips again. “I’ll warrant it provides an excellent topic to which to change the conversation,” he muttered. “Yes, it is indeed the book kindly sent to me by Sir Joseph Banks. I am quite sure that its pages contain an illustration of this wretched weed, but I fear I cannot find it. There was an earlier volume of Sir Joseph’s expeditions, but I fear it came to grief in that disastrous fire at Cranforth Castle, and now I begin to think that it was the source of the illustration concerned, and not this later publication.”

  Emma had been looking at the book, and it seemed very familiar to her. “My lord, I am sure that the library in Lady Bagworth’s house contains a volume very like this one, but bound with a green leather cover.”

  The old man’s eyes lit up. “Indeed? If so, it is the very book I wish to examine.”

  “I am sure there would be no harm in sending it around to you, sir.”

  “Excellent. Well, that old reprobate Bagworth had one redeeming feature, his library, but in everything else he was quite beyond the pale.”

  Tea was brought for Emma, and for a very agreeable half-hour they all three sat conversing. They spoke of a variety of things, but Emma felt quite relaxed and comfortable throughout.

  At last it was time to leave, and the earl rose from his chair once more, taking Emma’s hand and drawing it to his lips. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, m’dear, a very great pleasure indeed. You will make a delightful Lady Kane, and I confess that although I was a little perturbed when Gerald expressed a wish to present you with the Keepsake before you were officially betrothed, I can quite understand his desire to do so. You must not doubt your position, m’dear, for it is quite secure.”

  Emma smiled at him. “You are very kind, sir.”

  “Nonsense, it’s simply that I’m very pleased indeed to discover that you are everything my grandson said you were.’’

  Her eyes moved fleetingly to meet Gerald’s, and then she smiled at the earl again.

  The old man cupped her hand gently in both his. “I trust we will meet again soon. Perhaps at Manchester House this Friday. I have received an invitation from the Marquess of Hertford, and I may stir myself to toddle along. Hertford and his circle can be very tiresome at times, but they will do, I suppose. At the moment I am in two minds, for Manchester House assemblies are always such a press that pleasure is the last thing one feels when enduring them.”

  “I hope you will be there, my lord,” she replied.

  He patted her hand and then released it, resuming his seat at the table as Gerald prepared to escort her out again. He called after them, “Miss Rutherford, you will not forget that volume, will you?”

  “I will see to it as soon as I return, sir,” she said, pausing to smile back at him from the French doors into the ballroom.

  As she and Gerald retraced their steps through the house, he glanced at her. “That was not so bad, was it?”

  “No.”

  “He liked you very much.”

  “He reminds me of my father.”

  “There are many similarities,” he agreed. “May I change the subject for a moment?”

  “By all means.”

  “Have you spoken to Stephen about Avenley yet?”

  “Yes, and I do not think my brother will be having anything more to do with him. At least, not anything beyond certain unavoidable contact.”

  “Your persuasion was effective?”

  “He did not need persuading, for he saw the error of his ways,” she said, recalling how guilty and remorseful Stephen had been since Lord Avenley had acquired his lOU’s.

  “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear it, Emma, for Avenley is the devil himself, and no spoon could possibly be long enough when supping with him.”

  She nodded, blinking about her own recent meeting with Lord Avenley.

  Dolly was waiting for them in the entrance hall, and soon they were all there in the carriage once more, being conveyed back along Park Lane and Upper Grosvenor Square. As the coachman drew up at the curb in Grosvenor Square, Gerald glanced at Emma.

  “It occurs to me that we have no plans to meet again before Friday evening and the Manchester House assembly. I would like to see you before then.”

  “And I would like to see you,’’ she replied honestly. See him again? She wished she could spend every moment with him, every moment of every day of every week …

  He smiled. “I would have suggested this evening, but I am afraid it is out of the question. Before I left St. James’s Square, I received a message from Castlereagh, summoning me to call upon him tonight. I gather that Yarmouth will also be there, which does not bode well for the foreign secretary, I fear.”

  “There is to be a duel?”

  “It is the only conclusion I can reach. By the way, Lady Castlereagh was most
upset to learn that they had been misled at the theater, and she wishes me to reassure you that they would never have knowingly left us in the lurch. She is at pains to emphasize that there will be no repetition of such a regrettable occurrence.”

  He smiled then. “I digress, I fear, for we were discussing our next meeting. If this evening is out of the question, tomorrow afternoon surely is not. Perhaps a drive in the country would be agreeable? I believe that the ornamental gardens at the Sadler’s Wells theater are well worth a visit.”

  “I would like that very much.”

  “At two o’clock?”

  “Very well.”

  He alighted, and then assisted both Emma and her maid down as well, again to Dolly’s pink-cheeked confusion. Saunders had already opened the door of the house, and Dolly hurried on inside, but Gerald paused again for a moment on the pavement.

  “Emma, please do not ever doubt me again,” he said softly, ignoring Saunders, who still waited at the door.

  “I’m sorry that I ever—” she began, the words dying on her breathless lips as he suddenly bent his head to kiss her on the cheek.

  Her heart stood still for a moment, and then began to pound wildly in her breast. She quickly lowered her gaze, for she was sure that her emotions were written as clearly in her eyes as words upon a printed page.

  Gerald did not seem to notice her disarray, for he had already turned to reenter the carriage, which a moment later drove smartly away.

  Emma watched it leave and was suddenly startled by Saunder’s rather anxious and urgent voice from the doorway behind her.

  “Madam, it’s imperative that I speak with you without delay.”

  She turned, instantly alarmed. “What is it?”

  “Master Stephen has met with an accident, madam. I fear it may be serious, and I do not know what to tell Mr. Rutherford.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Emma hurried into the house, waiting in the inner hall as Saunders closed the door and then came quickly toward her. “An accident, Saunders? Is he badly hurt?”

  “He fell overboard into the Thames, madam, and unfortunately it was several minutes before his companions could rescue him. Both the water and air were very cold, and he received a great soaking.”

  “Where is he now?” She glanced instinctively up the staircase.

  The butler shook his head. “He hasn’t been brought back here yet, madam. A carriage is bringing him, and one of his companions rode ahead to give warning that a physician should be sent for without delay. I have taken the liberty of dispatching a footman for Dr. Longford of North Audley Street. The message arrived here only a minute or so before you returned, and Mr. Rutherford is asleep in his room. I did not know what to do for the best, madam, for imparting such distressing news …”

  “You were right to withhold the information for the moment, Saunders. I will tell him myself once the doctor has examined my brother. How long will it be before the carriage arrives?”

  “The gentleman who rode ahead said that it would be only minutes behind him, madam,” the butler replied, and as he did so, they both heard a carriage drawing up outside.

  Saunders hastened to open the door again, and Emma recognized the two young gentlemen who swiftly alighted from the vehicle, for they had been at Hatchard’s that morning. That morning? It seemed as if several days had passed since then.

  Stephen was assisted carefully into the house. His face was drained of color, his hair was still damp, and beneath several coats borrowed from his anxious friends, he still wore his wet clothes. There was an ugly bruise on his forehead, and he seemed a little dazed. He shivered so much that his teeth were chattering, and Emma knew that it was as much from shock as the icy drenching he had received in the Thames.

  His friends helped him up the staircase, and Saunders dispatched a footman to see that hot water was brought from the kitchen. Dolly joined Emma outside Stephen’s room as the two gentlemen, assisted by Stephen’s valet, Frederick, at last divested him of his wet clothes, and put him in a warm, dry nightshirt. Emma paced anxiously up and down, wishing that they would finish so that she could speak to her brother.

  At last the two young gentlemen emerged, and the one named Jerry Warburton, whose boat the party had been sailing in, spoke to her. “I cannot apologize enough for this, Miss Rutherford. I wouldn’t have had it happen for the world.”

  “Is he badly hurt, do you think?”

  “He’s very shaken and cold, but I don’t think the blow he received to his head is very serious. I’m no expert, of course, but I feel reasonably confident that he will soon recover. I wouldn’t hesitate at all if it were not for this wretchedly unseasonable September, which has made the Thames intolerably cold. I vow there was a bite to the river air that would have done justice to January. We did what we could, and brought him back here without delay, and now we can only hope that he was not too greatly affected by the bitter cold.”

  “I thank you for acting so promptly, sir.”

  “I wish our first meeting had taken place under more pleasant circumstances, Miss Rutherford, especially as you are soon to become a member of my family.”

  She was surprised. “You are related to Lord Kane?”

  “I’m his second cousin. May I take this opportunity to wish you every happiness for the future?”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  They turned to leave, and Dolly stood aside for them to pass. As their carriage drove away again, the doctor arrived, thrusting his hat and gloves into Saunders’ hands and then following him up the staircase, where Emma was still waiting, for his arrival had been so prompt upon the others’ departure that she had not as yet had a chance to go in to see Stephen.

  Dr. Longford was a stern-faced, superior man with thinning brown hair and a pale, rather horsey face. He was about forty-five years old, and dressed in the elegant style that would be expected of a successful Mayfair physician. His blue coat had velvet facings, and there was a plain golden pin in his neckcloth.

  The chain of a fob watch dangled from his brocade waistcoat, and he carried a capacious black leather bag embossed with his initials! There was an arrogant air of self-importance about him, and Emma took a swift dislike, which she was at some pains to disguise.

  He inclined his head to her. “Miss Rutherford, I presume?”

  “Dr. Longford.”

  “I will examine the patient and then consult with you,” he said imperiously, inclining his head once more and then following Saunders to the bedroom door.

  The door closed behind him, Saunders withdrew discreetly toward the back staircase, and Emma resumed her anxious pacing. From time to time she heard the murmur of voices in the room, but the minutes passed and there was no sign of the doctor’s examination coming to an end.

  She was beginning to think that the consultation would go on forever, when suddenly the door opened and Dr. Longford emerged to speak to her. He drew her to one side, so that their voices would not carry into Stephen’s ears.

  “I have given Mr. Rutherford a thorough examination, Miss Rutherford, and I can assure you that he is in no immediate danger and that if he follows my instructions he will not suffer any lasting ill effects.”

  Relief flooded through her.

  “Do not be misled into a false sense of well-being on the matter, Miss Rutherford, for there are certain problems.”

  “Problems?”

  “To begin with, he struck his head during the accident, and while the blow does not appear to be serious, it is my experience that reaction can be delayed, and therefore he must be watched closely during the next few days. I must also inform you that he has categorically refused to allow me to proceed as I feel best, by which I mean that he has not permitted me to bleed him. Bleeding is essential in such cases, for it reduces the risk of inflammation of the lungs, but it has proved impossible to reason with him, and so I am forced to resort to the less effective remedy of castor oil and hot baths.

  “At all costs we must guard against infla
ming the lungs, and so I have also prescribed an excellent tonic infusion of red wine and the leaves of the vinca minor plant. As to food and drink, I must insist that hot beverages are continually administered, together with nourishing broths, but until the patient is manifestly well in every respect, he is not to have any solid food, cold drinks, or alcohol in any form. Do I make myself clear, Miss Rutherford?”

  “Perfectly clear, sir.”

  “The patient is not to leave his bed, and his room is to be kept as warm as possible. I must also emphasize that drafts are a very real hazard at this time, and so the window must not only be kept closed, it must also be sealed. Should a feverish ague ensue in spite of all these precautions, then you must administer one hundred drops of laudanum every three hours. If the ague should then worsen, you must send for me without delay.”

  “I will see that your instructions are adhered to, Doctor.”

  “I trust that you will, Miss Rutherford. That will be one guinea.”

  Emma glanced along the passage, to where Dolly was waiting in readiness with her reticule. She beckoned to the maid and then selected a guinea coin from her purse.

  With an alacrity that was hardly to be commended, the doctor pocketed the coin and then hurried away down the staircase. Emma gazed after him, hoping that they would not have to send for him again, for she did not like him in the least.

  At last she was able to see Stephen herself, but as she entered his room, she was startled and dismayed to see him standing by the roaring fire with a large glass of cognac that his valet had just handed to him. He wore a peacock paisley dressing gown over his nightshirt, and the firelight flickered on the gold threads in his Turkish slippers. His hair was quite dry now, and there was only a slight sign of the daze he’d been in when his friends had first brought him back to the house. There was a bandage around his forehead.