by Janet Woods
Folding the umbrella, she laid it on the ground and attempted to crawl along the tree limb. She was hampered by her skirt and she squealed as the limb tipped sideways, sending her tumbling into the water. She managed to grab the sack as she went down, but the tree snagged her skirt and pulled her under with it. Holding the heavy sack above her head she fought to hold her breath and tried to pull her skirt free with the other hand.
It had just occurred to her that she might be about to drown when the sack was taken from her hand. Someone entered the water beside her and her skirt was ripped apart. Borne to the bank she was flopped on her face in the mud, where she coughed the water from her mouth and swooped in a few gasping breaths.
She sat up and found herself gazing at Gerald, who was covered in mud, along with other debris. He still wore his hat, which had gone out of shape, had a leafy twig on top and resembled a soggy Christmas pudding. She giggled, more from nerves than anything, said, ‘Sorry,’ then giggled again.
‘Hang on till we get you home. I don’t want a hysterical woman on my hands,’ he said. ‘What the hell were you doing in the creek, panning for gold?’
The cold had seeped into her bones and she’d begun to shiver. ‘There was a bag on the log and I could hear a dog yapping. I tried to rescue it and the branch moved and I slipped.’
The yelp came again. Reaching for the sack Gerald opened it and pulled out a shivering brown puppy with dark legs. He gazed into the sack, poked at the remainder of the contents, then said, ‘The other one is dead. I’ll leave it here for now.’
‘How could anyone be so cruel?’ She cuddled the puppy protectively against her and its heart beat against her cold stomach. Good God, her bottom half was clad only in a ripped petticoat! The puppy whined and licked at her hand, then it peed warmly in her lap. Not that it would be noticed amongst the drips and mud stains.
Gerald pulled her upright. ‘Come on, let’s get you home. I’m frozen, I’ll have to borrow some dry clothing from Magnus.’ He bundled her into the gig, wrapped the horse blanket round her and they headed for Fierce Eagles.
‘Thank you for saving my life, Gerald.’
‘My pleasure, but only if I don’t have to make a habit of it.’
‘Stop being so horrid.’ The energy seemed to be draining out of her.
‘You were lucky it was only your skirt that was pinned under the log, otherwise I’d never have got you out. How are you getting along with Magnus?’
He was trying to take her mind off her plight. When she shrugged and made a face, he laughed. ‘Magnus has always been a bit of a law unto himself. His bark is worse than his bite, you know.’
‘Perhaps I should call the dog after him then.’
‘I wouldn’t if I were you. Call the dog “Boots”, since he seems to be wearing them.’
‘Good name.’ She yawned. ‘I feel fatigued, and my strength is fading.’
‘It’s because you’re cold and the shock is beginning to set in. Hold on, Sarry love. Don’t go to sleep, because I can’t handle both you and the horse. We’ll be home soon and I’ll let the big bad wolf take over. He’ll probably give you a blast that will singe your eyebrows off.’
‘At least I’ll be warm.’
Magnus didn’t chastise her. He called for his man to tend to Gerald, then carried her upstairs and stripped the clothes from her body. Wrapping her in a soft blanket he tossed her face first on the bed like a sack of potatoes, and began to vigorously rub her cold body and limbs through the blanket.’
‘Mr Kern!’ Ada said in a shocked voice from the doorway, ‘What are you doing to her?’
‘Massaging some life back into her, what does it look like? Go to the kitchen and warm some milk. Tell Branston to put a good dollop of brandy in it. And take that animal with you. It stinks, and is probably jumping with fleas.’
Through chattering teeth, Sarette got out. ‘Give Boots something warm to eat, Ada.’
‘Boots? Good God, that’s an odd name for a mongrel. Throw it into the stables, Ada. Tell Robert to shoot him.’
‘No don’t! The poor creature has been through enough. If you do that to him I’ll never speak to you again, Magnus Kern.’
‘That would be a definite improvement in my life, I’d imagine.’
Ada giggled.
Magnus smiled in a manner that knocked the breath from her body. ‘All right, Ada, I’ll let her have her own way this one time. Feed the damned mongrel and find it a basket to sleep in.’
His massage was relentless, and soon Sarette began to glow. ‘Stop it, Magnus, I’m too warm and I’ll have no skin left on my body,’ she protested.
‘That would be messy.’ He gazed at her flushed cheeks, then threw her nightdress at her and turned his back. ‘Put that on.’
She scrambled into it, was wrapped in the blanket again and seated in front of the fire. He took the poker to the coals and soon the flames were roaring up the chimney. Magnus arranged himself at the other end of the fireplace. He gazed at her for a few seconds then picked up her hairbrush. ‘Lean forward, I’ll brush that mane before it dries into tangles.’
He had a gentle touch with the hairbrush, and it was calming against her scalp. After a while she grew sleepy and began to lean sideways. She jerked herself up and a few seconds later began to lean in the other direction. He set her back against the cushions. She was wonderfully relaxed. When Ada came in with the milk Magnus put the glass to her mouth. ‘Drink it.’
She took a sip then shook her head. ‘It tastes awful.’
‘I don’t give a damn what it tastes like, since it’s not me who has to swallow the muck. Now, get it down, or I’ll hold your nose and pour it down your throat.’
She wanted to giggle. ‘You’re oozing with charm, Magnus.’
‘I’m pleased that you’ve finally recognized a positive quality in me. Drink!’
Sarette did as she was told, then gently belched. She muttered an apology and added, ‘Go away now, I want to die in peace.’
He chuckled as he tucked her under the covers. ‘You’re too feisty to die. Look after her, Ada. She’s to stay in bed for the rest of the day, else she might end up with a lung infection. I’ll have her dinner sent up on a tray. Call me if she causes you any trouble and I’ll take a horse whip to her.’
Magnus had a few words with his valet, then went downstairs to the drawing room. Gerald was sipping on his best brandy, a satisfied expression on his face.
‘How’s the hero of the hour feeling?’ he asked.
‘Envious . . . where did you get this brandy from?’
‘The cellar. According to the date on the label it’s the ill-gotten gains of my grandfather.’
‘We should have taken up the profession, Magnus. We’d have made good adventurers, you and I.’
‘The world has become much too moral, and you and I with it. That’s what comes of having a woman on the throne. Besides, you look as though you’ve had all the adventure you can take. My man thinks he can rescue your clothes, though.’
‘Good. It was a brand new suit. How’s Sarry?’
Magnus smiled in satisfaction. ‘Totally defeated. She’s asleep.’
‘She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?’
‘Sarette Maitland is a damned pest.’ He glowered at Gerald. ‘And don’t get any ideas. You can keep both your eyes and your hands off her. She’s not old enough for men like you.’
‘But older than you first thought, eh?’
‘Thanks to you I furnished the nursery and filled the cupboard full of children’s clothes. And I bought her a rocking horse to win her round with. She said it was like the horse my uncle rode.’
‘Your uncle rode a rocking horse?’
Magnus laughed and threw a cushion at him. A gust of wind rattled the windows, and he was filled with a sense of security to be here at Fierce Eagles, safe and sound in this solid house his ancestors had provided for him. He should have children to inherit. He put the unwanted notion aside. ‘There’s a storm brewing
. Stay for dinner . . . stay the night. We can have a game of chess and drink each other under the table.’
‘We haven’t finished the game we played when last we did that. I believe I was winning at the time.’
‘The devil you were, the board’s still set up in the library, though some of the pieces have been moved during the maids’ dusting excursions. Use the telephone if you need to let anyone know. I take it you were on your way to somewhere.’
‘I’d heard you were home and was on my way to visit Sarry, to make sure she was surviving you.’
Magnus’s eyes narrowed. ‘My dear, Gerald, you had only to pick up the telephone and enquire.’
Gerald shuddered and said soberly. ‘If I’d done that Sarette Maitland would now be dead. She was trapped. I saw her fall in as I rounded the bend, saw the branch shift. Then her arm came out of the water and held the sack up with the dog. She was determined to rescue it, and it crossed my mind that she might be able to breathe under water – she was under for quite a while, holding it up out of the water.’
‘You don’t surprise me. I thought she was going to scratch my eyes out when I suggested that the animal be . . . humanely disposed of.’
‘D’you mean, shot?’
‘Something like that. I wasn’t serious, of course, but it certainly got her dander up.’
‘Sarette wouldn’t have known that you’re as accomplished a liar as your uncle was. She’s a young lady with a tender heart. I was never so relieved as when I saw her arm. At first I thought the tree had rolled on her. It would have, except there was a stumpy branch sticking out that acted as a prop to prevent it. Extraordinary luck, really. But she was pinned to the bottom by her skirt, with her head under water. All I could do was rip her skirt from her body to free her.’ He gazed at the leaping fire through his brandy bowl and reflected with a grin. ‘She had shapely legs, I thought.’
The girl was shapely all over. Her body had been firmly moulded under the blanket – that much Magnus had noticed, even though she’d wriggled and protested. But he’d had her arms pinned to her side by the blanket. He grinned as he remembered her indignation at his treatment of her, and one green eye glaring at him from a gap in the wild tangle of her hair. However, he wasn’t about to tell Gerald that. ‘I didn’t notice.’
Gerald’s glance slid his way. ‘I know you better than that, Magnus. You wouldn’t have missed a thing about her, and you always play things close to your chest. Tell me, what have you planned for her?’
‘Nothing as yet. I haven’t had time. If I’m to follow my uncle’s instructions, a suitable marriage – in time.’
‘And will you follow them?’
‘Uncle John was a man of good sense. I want to know more about her first. She might have living relatives. I’m going to set an investigator on to that.’
‘Family will come crawling out of the woodwork when they learn of her fortune.’
‘Which is one reason why I’m keeping quiet about its existence. It’s not as if it originated from her own kith and kin. Also, I need a better insight as to my uncle’s motivation for this generous bequest. He has sent his journals home and I intend to read them over the next couple of weeks. The nature of their relationship bothers me a little. It all sounds too simple when she relates it.’
‘The truth often is. I must admit it bothered my father a little, too. But he carried out John’s wishes to the letter, even after he knew he was dead. I’m sorry we were unable to inform you, Magnus.’
‘I’m surprised John insisted on secrecy, and to be honest, a little hurt.’
‘I don’t think it was a reflection on you. Sarette has grown up a lot since she arrived in England. Both her behaviour and thinking have matured. She wouldn’t have been able to cope with you then.’
Magnus sighed. ‘Perhaps not. Sarette’s a sharp-minded little thing. I don’t know what my uncle’s state of mind was at the time of signing that will. She could have manipulated him. It could all be an elaborate plot to get her hands on the fortune, and she might even have an accomplice.’
‘You think she might have been acquainted with the man who shot him in the back?’
‘I can only hope not, because I wouldn’t like to see her hang. I’ve heard a whisper that there’s a price on Flynn Collins’s head. D’you know anything about that, Gerald?’
‘I’d heard that you’d offered five hundred pounds to the man who brought Collins to justice.’
Magnus gazed at him, perplexed. ‘It’s not something I’d do.’
Gerald shrugged. ‘My father perhaps. John was his friend, and father was upset when he learned the nature of John’s death. He has a wide network of acquaintances and a long reach. It wouldn’t be beyond reason for him to have the man hunted down and made to pay in kind for such an offence. But he’d never admit to it. Unlike your uncle, my father leaves no record of his journey through life.’
‘A pity since he’d have some interesting tales to relate.’
‘Yes, I daresay he would. You know, I doubt if Sarry is involved in any way. She has an early memory of a thatched cottage with roses. The memory of her mother is faded, but the death of her father is sharp and upsetting. Then there was her father’s partner, who sold everything from under her and took off with the proceeds. Your uncle appeared on the scene at the very moment when she had nowhere else to turn.’
‘Then perhaps her father’s partner will know if she has any relatives in England. Do we know his name?’
Gerald looked blank. ‘I must admit, we completely overlooked that thread of possibility.’
‘Then I’ll ask her in the morning.’
The afternoon passed quickly as the two men talked companionably. The storm came in with a fresh ferocity as evening drew in, buffeting the house.
‘It will blow itself out by morning, I imagine,’ Magnus commented.
The clock chimed seven. The last chime had barely faded away when there was a knock on the door and Branston appeared.
‘Dinner is served, gentlemen.’
‘Good, we’re both ravenous,’ Magnus said.
‘Cook wants to know what to do with the puppy. It’s getting under her feet.’
‘Has it been washed and fed?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Tell cook she can either make a stew out of it, or ask Miss Maitland what to do with it. It’s her dog, after all.’
Branston grinned. ‘We’re keeping Boots then, sir.’
‘Under protest, Branston. Miss Maitland caught me at a weak moment.’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll tell everyone. They’ll be pleased.’
Gerald laughed after Branston had gone. ‘Does Sarette know you have these weak moments?’
‘Not yet. I’ve got the girl completely flummoxed.’
The men grinned at each other.
Twelve
Sarette hurried down to breakfast, so she could see Gerald and thank him properly before he left.
The men stood when she walked in. ‘Can I get you some breakfast?’ Magnus said.
‘Don’t let your own get cold. I’ll help myself. Please sit, both of you.’ She frowned as she gazed at Gerald. ‘You look pale, Gerald. You haven’t caught a cold from your dunking, have you? You deserve better than that after your gallant rescue. I’m very grateful you came along when you did.’
Magnus answered for him. ‘Your sympathy is misplaced. Gerald guzzled down my brandy without applying any caution, and he’s suffering from a hangover. He shouldn’t try to out-drink me.’
‘That’s true,’ Gerald croaked. ‘But he forgot to tell you that I beat him at chess.’
‘Only because I allowed you to.’
‘I’ll never drink again.’
Sarette laughed. ‘Mr John used to drink a lot. I bought him a bottle of Eucrasy from a travelling salesman to help him stop.’
Seemingly mystified, the men gazed at one other.
‘Eucrasy?’ Gerald said.
‘It’s medicine that takes away the
urge to drink.’
Magnus asked her. ‘Did it work?’
‘No. Mr John spat it out and gave the rest to his horse.’
‘What happened to the horse?’
‘Hercules spat it out too.’
They began to laugh as she helped herself to a piece of toast. She wasn’t very hungry, but poured herself a cup of tea, then spread a thin layer of gooseberry conserve on the toast.’
Magnus gazed at her plate. ‘Is that all you’re eating?’
‘I’m not very hungry this morning. Please don’t decide to be overbearing and threaten to force-feed me, after your efforts at doctoring yesterday. I’m much stronger this morning, and I’ll bite your damned fingers off if you so much as look at me the wrong way.’
A grin curled his lips, and he nodded. ‘Gerald and I were discussing you last night.’
‘Me?’
‘You don’t have to look so surprised. You’re bound to pique our interest. We only know about you from what you’ve told us. With your permission we intend to make enquiries, and find out if you have any relatives. Will you mind?’
She shook her head. ‘I think I would like to belong to someone again. You must feel the same, Magnus. Gerald belongs to a large family and his father is so very proud of them all.’
Magnus knew exactly what she meant. ‘There’s something we forgot to ask. What was the name of your father’s partner? We thought that if we could find him, then he might be able to tell us if you have any relatives we can contact.’
‘If I had, he would have already contacted them and stolen the teeth out of their mouths. That no good Irishman was called Flynn Collins, and if I ever see him again I want him arrested for what he did.’
Magnus made a strangled sound and Gerald’s cup clattered in his saucer as they gazed in dismay at one another.
Sarette gazed from one to the other. ‘What is it? Have I said something wrong?’ She sighed. ‘Of course I have . . . I said damn, didn’t I. Sorry.’