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Patricia Wynn

Page 13

by Lord Tom


  She took the wet shirt in her hand and scrubbed the front of her gown vigorously. It would not come as clean as his shirt had from being submerged, but the worst of the mess did come off. She returned it to him, glancing shyly down at his exposed figure, but observing, “Your hair is quite full of muck, I’m afraid. You really do look the part of the groom much more than I ever thought you would.”

  His eyes laughed up at her. “Touché. I suppose I deserved that for laughing at a lady in distress. But I will still refrain from telling you I told you so.”

  Susan laughed at his implication. Then, looking back towards the fair, she remarked anxiously, “I must be going. Perhaps if I go straight to the carriage, I can say that I had been waiting for her to arrive. I will say I found myself on the wrong side of the ducking pond at just the wrong moment, and made my way immediately back to the carriage to avoid the embarrassment of being seen in this state.”

  “Sounds an excellent explanation to me,” Lord Harleston said. “And I shall walk back in this direction.” He waved towards the opposite side of the brook.

  They parted. Susan made her way back to the fair, unaware that his lordship’s eyes followed her as far as they could with an expression of immense satisfaction.

  Luckily, she was the first one to reach the carriage. Within minutes, however, Lady Mewhinny and Vigor returned, having searched for her all over the fair without success. Her ladyship was effusive in her exclamations of dismay over finding Susan in such a state, and greatly feared the accident had spoiled her enjoyment of the fete.

  But Susan assured her that it had not, and her countenance was so full of pleasure at the recollection of dancing with Lord Harleston behind the tents, that Lady Mewhinny could have no doubt on the matter. They rode home in happy silence. Once, out the window Susan caught a glimpse of Tom walking home across the fields, but she trusted that her two elderly companions did not notice the similar wetness of his attire.

  Chapter Ten

  That evening at dinner, Mr. Petworthy approached his aunt again about allowing him to manage her affairs. Lady Mewhinny thanked him with as much good cheer as ever but firmly declined. Susan could not like the hint of desperation in Mr. Petworthy’s eyes as he heard her final decision, nor did she trust the curt nod which he subsequently gave to his friend. Clearing his throat, Mr. Sodporth began immediately to pose probing questions to her ladyship concerning the care of her monkeys, and since he had shown no interest in them before, Susan’s suspicions were instantly aroused.

  “You say you assist the servants in the care of these creatures, Lady Mewhinny?” said the doctor. “Is that not rather strenuous exercise for a lady of your years?”

  “You may well wonder, my dear sir,” said Lady Mewhinny with a wry glance at him. “But I can assure you it is nothing but a pleasure to me.”

  Mr. Sodporth shook his head with a suggestion of concern. Then, looking up at Susan with a curiously intent expression, he continued to address her ladyship. “I can only wonder at the motivation for engaging in such a curious pursuit.” Susan was shocked to find that the doctor’s amiable demeanour had vanished, and in its place was a rather calculating look. Fearfully, she wondered what it could mean.

  But her attention was claimed by Mr. Petworthy, who remarked quietly at her elbow, “I have often wondered much the same thing.” His remark was accompanied by a significant look which she was at a loss to interpret. It seemed as if both gentlemen were soliciting her agreement on the subject. She wanted to disavow all similarity of opinion with theirs, but found she was too distressed to utter a single sound. Or, she had to admit to herself, to come up with any reasonable comment in support of Lady Mewhinny’s actions.

  It was with considerable anxiety that Susan made her way carefully to the stables that afternoon. She felt she must consult Tom immediately about the sudden change.

  He listened to her with a suitable air of gravity. “It certainly seems,” he agreed, “as if they were about to set upon their work, but I cannot conceive of what would make them concern themselves with your opinions. And I do not like it! I should not have allowed you to stay up at the house with two such scoundrels!” He frowned as if annoyed with himself.

  Susan was touched by his concern for her, but dismissed it with assurances. “It is of no consequence. I do not think their intentions extend to me. It seems more that they wish to convince me of the correctness of their own opinions, but as yet, I cannot imagine what they have in mind. Mr. Sodporth’s questions centred mostly on Lady Mewhinny’s activities with respect to her monkeys. Do you suppose they intend trying to take them from her?”

  Lord Harleston shook his head. “I do not think so. That would not seem to make any sense. And I have not been successful in extracting any news from his valet. The infernal fellow never seems to be about when I find an excuse to carry me up to the house.”

  Susan nodded and thought of Peg, whom she had not seen in the past two days.

  “But you must not stay there a moment longer,” Tom continued. “We can leave tomorrow and I will send a magistrate to look into the business.”

  Susan started to protest but was silenced by an upheld hand. A voice came from near the door to the stables, and it was only by hurrying that she and he were able to hide themselves before its owner entered.

  The voice belonged to Mr. Petworthy, who was in company with Mr. Sodporth. From beneath the pile of straw under which Tom had hidden them, Susan could hear the gentlemen’s voices clearly.

  “Yes, that was my uncle all right, damned spouter! Come to demand his money. I had to tell him some of our plan before he’d consent to give me more time.” Susan, at first, thought Mr. Petworthy was in possession of a second uncle about whom she had never heard, and wondered why he had not called at the manor. But Mr. Petworthy’s subsequent remarks clarified his words for her.

  “Don’t ever do business with the moneylenders, Sodporth! They’ll bleed you dry, the dirty scoundrels! As if a gentleman hasn’t better things to do than worry about paying his bills.” The two men stopped in front of the stall where Susan and Lord Harleston were hiding. Unconsciously, Susan moved nearer to him for protection. His arm stole quietly about her and she had to remind herself it was to remind her to stay still. Nevertheless, her heart beat so loudly as a result that she was certain the other men must hear it.

  “So what must we do now?” Mr. Sodporth asked.

  “We must proceed with our plan. Are you certain of securing the assistance of your friend?”

  “Oh, without a doubt,” Sodporth replied. “Mr. Smidley often acts without a shade of proof. You have only to come through with your part of the bargain when the business is concluded. I took the liberty of promising him something in the vicinity of fifty pounds—on your behalf, of course.”

  Mr. Petworthy growled that he wished his friend would be less generous with money that was not his own, but he was interrupted by Mr. Sodporth.

  “You realize, of course, my dear Petworthy, that the signatures of two justices of the peace will be required to commit her. The law is more strictly enforced since the committee of enquiry was appointed in recent years. Things are not so simple as they used to be.”

  Susan’s skin crawled with horror. So that was what all their significant glances had meant! They intended to send Lady Mewhinny to Bedlam! Or something equally evil, at least. Susan could not think of poor Lady Mewhinny in such a situation without tears springing immediately to her eyes. Only the tightening of Tom’s arm about her kept her from crying out against their infamy.

  But Mr. Petworthy was speaking. “Then we must find another signature, and in a hurry! Only my repeated assurances that I would soon be trustee of my aunt’s estate sufficed to convince that old beggar to call off the bailiffs. Surely if there is one signature already, the other justice will not feel obliged to delve into the matter too deeply?”

  “Probably not,” Sodporth agreed. “But I shall endeavour over the next few days to make a note of her ladyshi
p’s odd behaviour. It will undoubtedly show signs of monomania. Her sleeplessness is a definite sign.”

  Mr. Petworthy expressed feelings of satisfaction with his friend’s professional opinions and urged him to be quick about the business. Then the two men broke off their meeting and strolled out of the stables.

  As soon as they had gone, Susan raised herself out of the straw and turned to place her hands on Tom’s chest. He held them there and listened as she poured forth her anxiety.

  “Oh, Tom!” she cried, unaware of the sudden lurch within him. “My poor, dear Lady Mewhinny! We must not let them do this to her! Why, they will have everyone thinking her mad!”

  He nodded somewhat distractedly and, releasing one hand began gently to pluck the straw from her hair.

  “What shall we do?” she continued, calming unconsciously at the touch of his hand.

  Tom looked at her with an expression that was peculiarly apologetic. “I promise you, Susan, word of honour, that I shall not let these rogues harm Lady Mewhinny,” he said, smiling at her trusting look of relief. “But I find myself unable to do anything about it until I have tended to first things first.” And with that, he encircled her waist again with a strong arm and swept her into an embrace.

  Susan had been so instantly reassured by his promise that she could hardly be ashamed of her reaction. But Tom had said all would be right, so she threw both arms around his neck and indulged in the most exquisite pleasure she had ever known. For a moment, all else was forgotten. The quickening of her heart, which she had attributed to fear for her ladyship, persisted in such a way that she was no longer in doubt as to its cause. And they kept on, bestowing kisses with such tenderness that Susan finally had to break away before she could stand no more.

  Lord Harleston held her hands in his while they gazed into each other’s eyes. The joy in her own was clearly reflected in his, and she was deliciously disturbed by the rapidity of his breathing. But they had no time to say a word before another voice from the stable door startled them into action.

  “My dear Susan!” uttered Lady Mewhinny in shocked tones as Susan hastily snatched her hands away. “What has happened?”

  Susan regarded her ladyship in panic as she vainly searched for words to hide her confusion.

  “Mrs. Faringdon,” Tom began, then paused to clear the huskiness from his voice. “Mrs. Faringdon slipped in the hay as she was coming to give me instructions, and I have just helped her to rise.” Susan hardly expected Lady Mewhinny to accept such an obvious bouncer, but the kindly old lady did not take issue.

  “Why, you poor, dear child,” she said. “It seems your stay with me has been fraught with a series of misfortunes. And look at your gown!” she exclaimed. “I fear it is ruined.”

  Susan looked down hurriedly and saw that indeed another of her gowns had been soiled. “I am afraid Tom ’as not cleaned out ze stable properly, Lady Mewhinny,” she said, hiding a smile. “I shall ’ave to speak to ’im very strongly about it.” She allowed herself a glance in his direction, but had to look away quickly to avoid laughing at his false contrition.

  “You certainly must!” Lady Mewhinny agreed, “but first you must come with me and see about laundering that dress. I was coming to look for Vigor, but I see he isn’t here. Never mind that for now. Come along, dear.”

  Susan was swept away from the stables without a chance to speak to Lord Harleston about the change which had just come over them. At the door she did venture a glance over her shoulder and found that Tom was watching her depart with such a look as made her tremble with joy.

  But Susan could not long indulge her newfound happiness. Although she did not doubt the strength of Lord Harleston’s affection, or certainly her own, she was obliged to remember her circumstances with respect to the law. As she lay in bed that night, after pleading a headache and retiring early to ponder the situation, she finally acknowledged its truth.

  “I do love him,” she said aloud to the room. Indeed, she admitted, she had been loving him since the moment he first donned his groom’s attire to assist her with her troubles. How wonderful it was to have complete confidence in the support of another! His manly attitude, the risks and discomforts he had already endured with no more than a laugh at the consequences, and all for her—it was more than she had ever been taught to expect from any man.

  And, now, she suspected that his endeavours in her behalf could have been at least in part the result, not of his duty to her father, but of his growing attachment to herself. She cringed at the thought of what might happen to him were he discovered to have taken part in this deception. The danger to Lady Mewhinny, as fearful as it was, was nearly eclipsed by the possibility that Lord Harleston, a member of His Majesty’s diplomatic corps, might be found to have assisted a fugitive from justice. And she had led him into it. Matters were becoming day by day more risky, as her immediate concern for Lady Mewhinny could lead to Lord Harleston’s exposure.

  “I shall have to give him up,” Susan said to the nymphs playing on her ceiling. She could not look at them now without arousing the strangest and most delightful images of herself similarly engaged in the stable with Tom. But reason solemnly reminded her that he was not just Tom. He was Lord Harleston, and there could be no Lady Harleston with a stain like hers on her reputation.

  Suddenly it occurred to Susan that she did not even know his name. She loved him, she had even kissed him with abandon, and yet she did not know his Christian name.

  “He will always be Tom to me,” she told the nymphs, a tear rolling down her cheek. A fairy tale, no more.

  Susan’s thoughts kept her awake for hours, but her future never became any clearer. As hard as she tried to find a solution to their worries, the answer was still the same. She must expose Mr. Petworthy to the authorities. In the process it would be discovered that she was not Mrs. Faringdon and she would go to prison, perhaps to the gallows. As the hour increased, so did her morbidity and her overwrought mind lingered on this point. She imagined a moving scene in which she stood on the fatal platform and was asked, with the prospect of saving her life, just who had been her accomplice. She, of course, would refuse to answer and Lord Harleston, in the full stature of his nobility, would come forward to confess and save her. But she would deny it, and go to her fate.

  As she pondered this depressing picture, the clock struck twelve and almost immediately there came a gentle tap at the door. Susan sat up in bed with a jerk and, uttering a joyous cry, ran to the door and flung it open. Tom stepped quickly into the room and took her into his arms.

  For a moment all her resolve was gone. Lord Harleston’s coming had all the drama of a last-minute reprieve from the scaffold. But she suddenly recalled her scruples and, determined to do what was right, drew back while gently removing his arms from about her waist. She dared not look up into his eyes.

  Tom released her and smiled. She is so beautiful, he thought. If only they were married already—but they were not. He did not know how he was to stand the wait, but until then he must respect her maidenly reserve. The circumstances were already so compromising, and his baroness should have nothing which could be whispered to her detriment. She had not called him here. It was only his concern and his desire to be with her that had overcome his caution and prompted him to come.

  He clasped his hands behind his back to avoid the impulse to take her into his arms again.

  After clearing his throat, he explained himself. “I thought we must have a chance to speak as soon as possible after our experience of this afternoon.” Then he added with a smile, “We were interrupted before we had a chance to plan what is to be done.”

  “Yes, we were,” Susan said, in her tone an involuntary hint of regret. She was thinking it was the last time he would hold her thus, but Lord Harleston mistook her thoughts to be more in line with his own.

  This reflection caused him to clear his throat again. “We must make a plan about what we will do for Lady Mewhinny,” he said.

  Susan nodded
and took a seat on the stool from her dressing table. Lord Harleston took the remaining chair. As soon as he was seated, Susan lifted her chin and gave him a direct look before saying, “I have been thinking it would be best if I went to the authorities and reported Mr. Petworthy’s intentions. But I earnestly beg you, Lord Harleston, not to involve yourself in the matter. You may take the carriage and go on and I shall ask Vigor to accompany me.”

  “Nonsense,” he said quite calmly, but giving her a look so loving that his remarks could not offend. “My dearest love, your brain is addled. Suppose you did go to the authorities, do you think they would not discover you are not who you say you are?” Susan lowered her eyes and stared at her hands in her lap, unwilling to admit that that had been her intention. But he went on.

  “And when, my love, they discover you are not who you pretend to be, do you think they will give any credence to your opinion? Mr. Petworthy will respond with indignation, and the matter will be dropped while they devote their energies to prosecuting you. And that I will not allow! Besides, Lady Mewhinny’s activities appear distinctly peculiar to anyone who does not know her. The decision will not ride with you.”

  As he explained this to her in the most patient of voices, Susan’s head came up and her eyes widened.

  “I did not think of that,” she admitted when he had finished.

  “That is why I am here to assist you,” he said to tease her.

  Susan looked at him with entreaty. “But then what shall we do?”

  His mind went blank. She looked so lovely there, wrapped in her dressing gown, her hair about her shoulders. It was all he could do to remain in his seat.

  Shaking forbidden thoughts from his head, he quickly stood and paced the room, trying to keep his eyes from being drawn to her.

  “Let us reflect for a moment,” he said, thinking aloud. “What Petworthy intends is to get two unscrupulous justices of the peace to sign a warrant committing Lady Mewhinny to some sort of institution for the insane. And it will all hinge on the word of this Mr. Sodporth—who, I suspect, has little to recommend him other than his own self-praise. What we need, it would seem, is a means of discrediting this Sodporth fellow.”

 

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