It gave him some little gratification that perhaps Max felt a reluctance to betray the trust shown in him within the Hall itself. The direction turned towards the stables. So that was it, thought the earl with a curl of his lip. An empty stall, a roll in the hay. He could hardly blame the lad, he supposed. He was reaching an age when it was only natural to feel... certain urges, even more so if urged on. It was the widow he wanted to shake until her teeth rattled.
The two figures up ahead swung one of the doors of the stable open just a crack and disappeared inside. Wrexham stopped for a moment as he debated what to do next. He wasn't sure he wanted to humiliate his son by catching him with his breeches down around his knees in his first attempt at being a man. He wasn't so far into his dotage that he couldn't imagine what that would be like. But on the other hand...
His breath came out in a sigh.
Good lord, it was deucedly difficult to be a father at times.
As Wrexham pondered his predicament, the door opened again and his son and his companion came out leading two horses. His brows came together in puzzlement as he noticed the heavy bag tied to the back of one of the saddles. They came close enough to where he was standing hidden in the shadows that he could catch their whispered words.
"I think it better that we lead the horses some distance down towards the lake before mounting," said Max. "That way, we won't risk waking the grooms."
The other figure merely nodded an assent.
With his curiosity as well as his anger piqued, the earl slid into the stable as soon as they had moved away. It would take him only a few minutes to have Ulysses ready, and he knew in which direction they were going.
So much for a simple stroll in his gardens.
* * *
Allegra and Max tethered their mounts in a copse of trees they had picked out the previous week. She took the small lantern out of the bag while he slung the thick coil of rope over his shoulder. In his youthful eagerness, he was nearly sprinting towards their destination, and Allegra had to place a hand on his shoulder to temper his energy.
"Have a care," she cautioned. "We cannot afford a mistake."
He nodded and immediately slowed his steps. As they approached the garden wall, he gently tested the iron gate. As they suspected, it was locked. Allegra removed a thin oilskin packet from the pocket of her jacket and drew out a thin length of metal. She inserted it into the rusted lock and after a few jiggles, the deadbolt slid loose with a satisfying snick.
"How did you learn to do that?" whispered Max in amazement.
She grinned. "I shall explain it to you later." She pushed at the gate very slowly and it opened with little noise. "We could have used the rope here as well, but we may welcome a faster means of exit."
After surveying the gardens for any sign of activity, she motioned for Max to follow her inside. They reached the wall below the library window without incident. Allegra gazed up at the smooth expanse of stone while Max shook out the length of coils. From their observations, they knew there was no vines or tree to provide an aid to their ascent. There was, however, ridge of slate tiles set above one of the upper bay windows that could provide an anchor for the iron prong at the end of their rope.
Max weighed the heft of his line for a moment, then made the first toss. The prong failed to catch and clattered back to earth with what seemed like an inordinate amount of noise.
Allegra winced.
"Sorry," muttered Max as he gathered the rope for the next try.
They waited a moment to make sure no outcry was forthcoming, then she signaled for him to go ahead. "I doubt we shall get many trys," she whispered aloud, though she knew from his grim expression he was as aware of that fact as she was.
This time, the claws lodged in between the pieces of slate. With an audible sigh of relief, Max tested its hold. The prong didn't budge, even under the full pull of his weight. He yielded the rope to Allegra with obvious reluctance.
"I still say I could help you search faster," he said in a low voice.
"We agreed that you would stay here and keep watch."
"I know, but think on it. Even if I do see someone, precious little good that will do. You would never have time to get out. I could be of much more assistance if I come with you."
Allegra hesitated. She forbore to reply that he, at least, would have ample time to make his escape if he stayed on the ground. But what he said made good sense. "You promise to do exactly as I say?"
He nodded vigorously.
"Very well. But I go up first, and when I say we must leave, you will do so without argument."
"I promise."
With one last tug on the rope, Allegra started up the wall.
* * *
An incredulous expression spread over Wrexham's face as he watched his son scale the wall of his neighbor's manor and disappear into the second story window. He had left his horse near the others and followed their steps through the unlocked gate into the formal gardens behind Westwood Manor.
Who the devil was she, to add housebreaking to his son's curriculum? More to the point, what the devil were they up to? He couldn't imagine that Max would be tempted into such transgressions by mere money. The lad received a generous allowance, which he only seemed to use for books. No, the little hussy must have lured him into this with the promise of something other than material gain.
With a wry grimace, he thought back to only a short while ago when he feared that Max was in danger of becoming too staid. Then he edged his way nearer to where the rope dangled down from the open window. A glance up had shown that clouds were beginning to scud across the sky. The darkness would help obscure any movements and elude any pursuit.
Well, there was nothing else for it but to attempt to extricate Max before he really ended up in the suds.
* * *
"Help me lift this painting off the wall," whispered Allegra. They had already checked every volume on the shelves and she had made short work of the locks on Sandhill's desk. "The safe is here. I'll start on it while you go through the drawers."
Max gave her a hand in lowering the heavy gilt frame to the floor, then carefully lit the small lantern they had brought with them so that he might better examine the contents of the desk.
"Draw the curtain," she reminded him. "And hurry."
They both set to their appointed tasks with a sense of urgency. Allegra had decided that they should not remain in the library over a quarter of an hour. Already nearly half the allotted time was gone. Her fingers fumbled with the slender picks. This type of lock was proving more difficult than the others.
A low exclamation from Max nearly caused her to drop the implements to the floor.
"Ssshhh!"
"Sorry. I thought I had found something important," he whispered as he put the papers back. Making sure nothing else was disturbed, he shut the drawer and jiggled one of Allegra's picks so that the lock clicked back into place.
Both of them were so engrossed in what they were doing that the sound of approaching footsteps went unnoticed. It was only the faintest scratch of metal against metal as the knob of the door was turned that caused Allegra's head to come up.
She cried out a warning, just as a burly shape lunged at the lad. He managed to twist aside as the thick cudgel came down towards his head so that the blow was only a glancing one. Still, the force of it dropped him, half senseless, to the carpet.
The footman raised the stick again.
A heavy ash walking stick topped with a silver stag's head leaned up against the hearth. She snatched it up and swung wildly at the fellow before he could hit Max again. The shaft caught him flush on the temple. With a low groan, he staggered a few steps, then collapsed in a heap. Allegra rushed to where Max lay.
"Good lord, Max, are you alright?" she said, taking his head between her hands.
His eyes fluttered open and he essayed a weak smile. "Yes, yes. I'm thick-skulled enough, as you know. I imagine we had better take our leave." His attempt at humor didn't di
sguise the fact that his voice was groggy and he didn't seem to be able to move his limbs.
She bit her lip. Already there were sounds of movement downstairs. They had only a few minutes in which to make their escape.
"Max," she whispered urgently. "You have to get up!"
A noise at the window caught her attention. Had the rope been discovered as well? Sure enough, a large figure pulled himself over the sill. Allegra grabbed up a large book that had fallen from the shelves, determined not to go down without a fight. As soon as the man turned, she hurled it straight at his midriff. There was a whoof of air as the heavy tome knocked him off balance, followed by a string of curses.
"Lord Wrexham!" gasped Allegra.
"Father!" cried Max weakly as he struggled to a sitting position. "I can explain—"
The earl was at his son's side in two strides. "Later," he snapped. "Can you stand?"
"I... I think so."
Wrexham's arm was already around Max's waist, lifting him to his feet and guiding him towards the window. The lad sagged against his father's broad chest, still not in full command of his faculties. With an exasperated sound, the earl propped Max against the wall and grabbed up a decanter of brandy from bowed sidetable. Yanking out the crystal stopper he turned and flung the contents over Max's face.
The shock of the cold liquid had the desired effect. The lad's shoulders snapped to attention as he shook his head a few times to clear the remaining cobwebs.
"Can you manage to climb down by yourself?" demanded the earl. "I fear the rope may not hold the weight of two of us."
Max wiped at his face. "Yes, sir."
"Then do so!" he ordered. "Now!"
The clatter of feet on the stairs indicated that the servants below had heard the scuffle and were on the way. Wrexham strode to the door and kicked it shut, then grabbed the desk chair and wedged it under the knob. "That should hold them for a bit," he muttered. As he turned back towards his son, the footman felled by Allegra's blow had risen to his knees. The earl paused for a brief moment. His fist flashed forwards, landing a clean shot to the jaw that laid the fellow out cold.
Max had hauled himself up over the window still. Only the upper part of his body was visible as he fumbled for a good grip. Wrexham leaned out and took him by both shoulders. "Be careful," he said softly, before pushing him on his way.
The door rattled as the group of men outside tried to force it open.
"Is that loaded?" Wrexham pointed at the pistol on the desk.
Allegra nodded.
His eyes narrowed as he took it up. "Kindly keep an eye on Max's progress, if you would. As soon as he is on the ground, get yourself out."
"My lord, I should be the last to—"
"Oh no, ladies first," he said with scathing politeness.
"But—"
A shoulder slammed into the door, nearly knocking the chair from its position.
"I am in no mood to argue! Go!"
She ceased her protests and rushed to the window. "He's made it," she called after a moment. The relief was evident in her voice.
This time two men took a run at the door, nearly springing it from its hinges.
"Go!"
She disappeared into the blackness. The earl then aimed at the very top of the door and squeezed off a shot. A grim smile passed over his lips at the scrambling sound of the hasty retreat. With any luck, that should hold them off long enough. He tucked the pistol in the pocket of his coat and swung himself out onto the ledge. Allegra had just reached the ground. Without looking up, she pushed Max into a dead run and headed off in the direction of the gate.
"But Father..." gasped Max as his boots crunched over the graveled path.
"Don't worry about your father—he is doing quite well on his own," she answered without breaking stride.
Indeed, the earl was halfway down the rope, pleased that Allegra had at least shown enough good sense to get his son moving. It was looking as if they might yet extract themselves from this coil without further mishap since he doubted that a pursuit could be mounted before they were well away from Westwood Manor.
Shouts from above alerted him to the fact that Lord Sandhill's servants had more daring than he had reckoned with. They were back in force and as Wrexham looked up, one of them was bold enough to stick his head out the open window. The barrel of a pistol appeared immediately afterwards. With a muffled oath, the earl let go of the rope just as a shot rang out. The bullet grazed the back of his hand but he was hardly aware of its impact as he dropped the remaining ten feet and hit the hit with a resounding thud.
At the sound of the shot, Max skidded to a halt. "Father!" he cried as he made to dash back to the house.
Allegra grabbed him by the shoulders to restrain him. She had already seen that the earl had recovered his feet and was weaving in and out of the bushes in order to present less of a target as he worked his way towards them. "Your father is unscathed," she assured him. "Come on, we must hurry—he won't appreciate it if we let ourselves get caught now!"
The sight of the earl's lean form moving quickly through the shadows convinced Max that his father needed no aid and he let himself be dragged on in the direction of the horses. Wrexham caught up with them at the gate. With another string of choice oaths, he urged them to greater speed. As Max and Allegra vaulted into their saddles they needed no further words to set their horses into a full gallop. The earl's big stallion fell in beside them and the pounding of the hooves echoed off the soft earth as the three shapes were swallowed up by the blackness.
* * *
Wrexham reined his mount to a walk a short distance from the stables. The stallion's flanks were lathered in sweat and earl patted the horse's muscled neck in appreciation. "Well done, Ulysses," he murmured.
Not a word was addressed to Allegra and Max, who followed behind in single file. A grim silence hung over the small party as Wrexham gave a wide berth to the wing of the stables where the grooms slept. On reaching the other end, the earl dismounted and slid the door open. Allegra and Max led their horses in behind him.
The light of a single flame flared up as the earl lit a lantern and hung it from a peg above the first stall. He threw the reins of his stallion at Max.
"See that the horses are properly cared for," he said in a near whisper that didn't hide the fury in his tone. "Then I shall see both of you in the library."
As he turned to go, his knee buckled so that he was forced to grab onto the edge of the stall to steady himself. The string of curses that followed left both Max and Allegra with ringing ears well after the earl moved off with a pronounced limp and disappeared out the door.
Max's face was ashen. He swallowed once or twice before he could speak. "I... I don't think I've ever seen Father so angry."
Allegra slumped against some bales of hay. "With good reason," she replied with a heavy sigh. "I'm sure he's never had such provocation." She raked her hand through the mass of curls that had come undone during the mad flight. "Oh, Max, I'm truly sorry for having brought this down around your head. I knew I should not have allowed you to put yourself at risk."
Max smiled gamely. "I left you little choice," he reminded her. "I'm old enough to face the consequences of my actions." He shrugged. "Besides, how bad can they be?" Despite the bravado of his words, his expression showed he was not quite as sanguine as he wished her to believe.
Allegra didn't answer but unbuckled the girth of her saddle and carried it over to its rack. She began sponging her horse down while Max was putting away the tack of the other two. Finally she broke the silence.
"Dear heavens," she murmured. "I hope on top of everything else, your father isn't badly hurt."
"His leg? It's an old injury," said Max. "It pains him occasionally when he overexerts himself."
"Well, I imagine tonight's activities might termed that," she answered dryly. "Especially when you take into account that he had to let go of the rope at a fair distance from the ground."
Her attempt to lig
hten the mood served its purpose. The bleak expression on Max's face was replaced by a grin. "For an old dog, Father acquitted himself pretty well."
"Indeed." She sought to keep his mind off the impending confrontation. "How did he injure his leg in the first place?"
Max rubbed at his chin. "Let me see, it was nearly six years ago, I think, during haying time. Something spooked the horses of one of the wagons and the team bolted while the driver was helping with the loading. There were two children in the back. Father was riding by and heard the cries. He set off after them, for the horses were headed for a steep ravine. There was no time to try to head them off, so he leaped between the team and managed to get the two animals under control. His leg was badly twisted in the process."
Allegra's eyes widened with amazement. "You mean to say your father risked his life for two of his tenant's children?"
He looked at her blankly. "They were children, Mrs. Proctor. Of course he did."
She looked down at the toes of her scuffed boots.
Max finished rubbing down the earl's stallion and led him off to his stall. He jammed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and kicked at a tuft of hay as he returned. "Well, I suppose there's no sense in putting it off any longer." He had gone a bit green around the gills.
Allegra brushed the dirt from the seat of her breeches and summoned a resolute look.
"Let me do the talking."
Chapter 5
The earl glowered at the two of them from across the wide expanse of his desk. His windblown raven locks and angled black brows only accentuated the color of his current mood.
"Perhaps you will kindly tell me what in the devil's name was going this evening." Wrexham's angry eyes were fixed on Allegra and his words were all the more ominous for the fact that his voice was barely above a whisper. "I agreed against my better judgment to hire you to supervise my son's education, and how is my trust repaid? It seems you have seen fit to add housebreaking and thievery—not to speak of perhaps murder—to his curriculum."
Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] Page 6