‘Oh, Luke! If I hadn't come you wouldn't have been shot.’
‘It was worth getting shot, just to hear you use my name.’
There was a discreet cough. Marianne turned to see Figgs. ‘We’ve checked, there’s no one else on board, no one who shouldn’t be here, that is.’
‘And the Frenchman?’ asked Luke.
‘We’ve thrown him over the side.’
Luke nodded.
Marianne thought it wiser not to ask if he had been dead or alive.
‘Kit’ll be here any minute,’ said Figgs. ‘Captain Gringe is giving Henri a hand to bring him down.’
Luke turned to Marianne. ‘See to your brother. I’m going to see if I can get some rest.’
She nodded, feeling admiration for the way he could think of her brother when he himself was injured. He closed his eyes and a minute later Henri, together with Captain Gringe, brought Kit into the cabin. Adèle followed close behind.
Henri and Captain Gringe laid Kit on the bunk and he sank back gratefully against the pillow.
‘How’s Luke?’ Kit asked.
‘It’s only a flesh wound,’ said Marianne. ‘But I won’t be happy until Doctor Moffat has seen it. And now I want to have a look at you.’ Her bedside manner suddenly evaporated and gave way to sisterly affection. ‘Oh, Kit, I’m so glad you’re alive.’
Kit smiled weakly. ‘So am I.’
‘And not too bad, by the look of things.’ She looked at his thigh once again, which was bandaged with torn strips of shirt.
Kit’s eyes went to Adèle, and his hands covered hers. ‘Adèle bound me up.’
‘All the same, Marianne, if you would have a look at it?’ asked Adèle. Her voice was anxious, and Marianne realised for the first time how deeply her friend loved her brother.
‘Of course.’
Fortifying Kit with a few drops of laudanum, she gently undid the bandages and checked his thigh, but Adèle had cleaned it thoroughly. ‘It’s a pity you had to put yourself to such exertion. It looks like your wound had already started to heal, but I’m afraid all the activity has opened it up again. I’ll bind it with fresh bandages for you.’
‘Your sister, she is adept at bandaging the legs!’ said Henri with a twinkle.
‘And then you must get some rest,’ said Marianne.
Kit took her hand. ‘Thank you, Mari. And then you must tell me all about your escapades. I gather you have been busy whilst I’ve been away.’
‘Not as busy as you,’ she said. She shook her head. ‘Kit, you’ve worried us all to death.’ But she found she could not maintain her anger against him, she was too relieved to know that he was alive. Instead she turned to her friend. ‘And you, Adèle. How are you?’
‘I am well,’ said Adèle, in prettily accented English. ‘Tired, but well, and glad to have escaped from France.’
Marianne took in Adèle’s slight figure, and noticed how thin Adèle was looking. But after all the troubles she must have been through in the last few months it was not surprising.
‘But I think you have better things to do at the moment than talk to me, yes?’ asked Adèle with a smile.
Marianne was about to protest but instead she said ruefully, ‘You know me too well.’
‘Figgs, you stay with her,’ said Kit. There was something half-teasing and half-serious about him. ‘I want to make sure she has a chaperon, in case I fall asleep. I know what Luke’s like!’
Marianne tried to make sense of his half-jesting words. Was he warning her against Luke? she wondered. Or telling her he knew of her feelings? Or implying that she and Luke had feelings for each other? She did not know, and in front of Henri and Figg she did not want to ask.
She turned her thoughts back to the task in hand and went over to Luke’s bunk. Mercifully he had fallen into a light sleep.
‘It is the best thing for ’im,’ said Henri.
Marianne nodded. She sat down beside him and did not leave his side as the ship sailed back to England.
Chapter Ten
‘Kit’s sleeping.’ Dr Moffat spoke comfortingly, patting Marianne paternally on the arm. ‘The wound’s opened again with the journey, but it’s clean and it won’t be long until it mends. All your brother needs now is plenty of rest.’
Marianne breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long and difficult journey, and she had been sorry to shock Trudie with the arrival of a bedraggled party, but there had been no help for it. Both Kit and Luke had needed urgent help.
‘And Lord Ravensford?’ Marianne tried to make her voice sound casual. It would not do to let Dr Moffat guess that she had feelings for the man who was lying behind the very door she was standing outside, the door of one of the guest rooms of Seaton Hall.
‘Ah.’ His face became grave. ‘Now that’s a different story. The wound’s been cleaned and properly bound, but it isn’t the flesh wound it appears to be.’
Marianne swallowed. ‘That explains the fever.’
‘Yes. The bullet has gone through the shoulder, but unfortunately it grazed the bone on its way out. A splinter remains inside. It goes without saying that it will have to be removed.’ He hesitated. ‘Miss Travis, I know this is a lot to ask, but if I send for an assistant it could be an hour or more before one arrives, and the splinter needs to come out now.’
Marianne spoke calmly, though her face was white. ‘I will assist you.’
‘Thank you.’
Trudie, who had been standing beside the doctor with her hands on her hips all this while, shook her head, saying darkly, ‘Oh, no you don’t Miss Marianne. An unmarried lady in a gentleman’s bedroom? Your mama would turn in her grave.’
‘Mama would understand,’ returned Marianne, her concern for Luke making her speak sharply.
‘But will anyone else?’ argued Trudie. ‘You’re well liked in the neighbourhood, Miss Marianne, but it doesn’t do to try people too far. If anyone finds out you’ve been —’
‘No one will ever hear of it from my lips, I assure you,’ said Dr Moffat, ‘and I am sure no one will hear of it from yours. But I do need help, and I need it now.’
‘Well, I don’t like it,’ said Trudie, shaking her head. ‘But if it must be, it must. I’ll fetch you some hot water.’
‘Thank you, Trudie.’
Trudie bustled away and Dr Moffat entered Luke’s room, followed by Marianne.
The next few minutes were painful ones for all concerned. Marianne had to bite her lip as she assisted the doctor in removing the splinter from the wound, and Luke mercifully lost consciousness, only coming round when the deed was done.
‘Now, if you can just hold this pad to his shoulder,’ said the doctor, as he administered some laudanum to Luke for the pain. ‘And then if you can help me to bind it . . .’
Ten minutes later, Luke was laid back against the pillows, and Marianne saw with relief that he already seemed to be resting a little easier.
‘You made a good job of it the first time round,’ said Dr Moffat conversationally, ‘but now that you have seen me remove a splinter of bone you will know what to look for if you should have to deal with a shooting incident again.’
Marianne flushed.
‘Come, child. You didn’t think I would fail to recognise your handiwork – or your bandages.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t know how you were on hand to do it, nor is it my business to ask, but it’s lucky for Lord Ravensford you were there. He could have bled to death otherwise. Now, all you have to do is to make sure that these two young men get plenty of rest, and then I see no reason why they should not both make a full recovery. As for you, young lady,’ he said, standing up and surveying her professionally, ‘you, too, need rest. And no, don’t argue with me. You can do nothing to help either your brother or your - neighbour – if you are falling asleep on your feet. Let Trudie watch over them tonight, and then you can take over in the morning.’
Marianne was about to protest, but she swayed as she stood up and was forced to acknowledge that the doctor was right.
She was of no use to anyone in her exhausted state, and she needed to be fresh if she was to nurse Luke - and Kit - back to health.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And thank you for not asking what Lord Ravensford is doing here.’
‘My dear Marianne,’ he said, taking the liberty of using her name as he had known her since the day of her birth, ‘when one young man takes it into his head to go on a hotheaded expedition to rescue the woman he loves and another gentleman decides to help him, then nothing that follows would surprise me. But have no fear. No one will learn of anything I have seen or heard tonight. A doctor is used to being discreet.’ He closed his bag. ‘I will come back and see my patients in the morning.’
Marianne nodded and wearily showed him out. She returned to Luke’s room once more, to reassure herself that he was still resting easily, and then returned to her own room, where before long she was fast asleep.
The following morning, Marianne felt much refreshed. She was just about to ring for Trudie when the housekeeper bustled into the room, carrying a tray of steaming chocolate and freshly baked rolls.
‘Here you are, Miss Marianne. I’ve had the whole story from Henri, and after all you’ve been through in the last two days I’m not letting you out of that bed until you’ve eaten these rolls and drunk this chocolate.’
‘I would have told you,’ said Marianne sheepishly, ‘but when we got home I was so tired . . . ’ She was sorry that Trudie should have heard the truth from Henri, instead of from her own lips, but in a way it made things easier for her, now that Trudie knew everything that had happened.
‘Tired?’ snorted Trudie. ‘Is it any wonder? You and Master Kit! You haven’t changed! Still getting into scrapes.’ She gave an exasperated sigh. ‘You’re two of a kind, Miss Marianne, you’re both as bad as each other!’ With her hands on her hips she shook her head despairingly, exactly as she had done when Marianne and Kit had been children, and involved in a childhood prank. ‘What your papa will say when he finds out I dread to think.’
‘Do you know,’ said Marianne, sipping her chocolate, ‘I think it will be the making of him.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Trudie, throwing back the drapes. ‘Though Dr Moffat says your papa’s not to be told at once. Your father’s valet’s getting him used to the idea, telling him there’s a rumour abroad that Kit isn’t a gambler, but that he’s gone off to France to rescue Miss Adèle. Then, when your papa’s used to the idea, he’ll be told that Master Kit is safe and well.’
‘Yes.’ Marianne nodded as she took a delicious roll. ‘It will be less of a shock that way.’ She tried to eat the roll, but as she put it to her lips she shook her head. It was no good. She could not eat anything until she knew how Luke was. ‘Did he . . . ’ she began hesitantly. ‘Did he pass a peaceful night?’
‘If you mean Master Kit, then yes, he passed an untroubled night,’ said Trudie. ‘And if you mean Lord Ravensford,’ she said, giving Marianne a hard look, ‘then yes, he did the same.’
Marianne heaved a sigh of relief. As long as the fever didn’t return, then, provided he got a lot of rest, Luke should make a full recovery. It would take time, and careful nursing, but she meant to see he had plenty of both. ‘I will look in on him as soon as I am dressed.’
‘The doctor’s with him,’ said Trudie with satisfaction. She did not approve of her young mistress nursing an eligible gentleman, and was happy to confound Marianne, who, she knew, now that the danger was past, would not wish to intrude on the doctor.
‘Then I will sit with Kit until he leaves.’
And as soon as she was up and dressed, Marianne did just that.
‘So. You’ve decided to keep me company,’ said Kit cheerfully as his sister opened the door and went into the drawing-room.
‘I have been looking for you all over,’ she said in surprise. ‘I was expecting to find you in your room, not down here. You should be in bed.’
‘Not so!’ Kit smiled. ‘Dr Moffat’s pronounced me fit to take my ease downstairs.’
‘Well, as long as you remain on the chaise longue, I suppose it will be all right,’ said Marianne doubtfully. ‘But woe betide you if I see you walking around!’
She sat down next to him, on an elegant Sheraton chair, and looked at him with affection. His hard features seemed to have softened since the last time she saw him, and there was an air of contentment about him that she had never witnessed before.
‘I was coming in here to scold you, but I see you are irrepressible, and I will just be wasting my time. So now, instead, I will hug you,’ she said, suiting her actions to her words. ‘And thank God you are home.’
Kit stroked her hair, his arms around her, and then suddenly ruffled the raven ringlets and punched her playfully on the shoulder. Marianne laughed, and their habitual camaraderie was restored.
‘So, you were going to scold me, were you?’ asked Kit, with a humorous lift at the corner of his mouth. ‘You have no idea what I intended to say to you! Stowing away on a ship, coming over to France, frightening the life out of Trudie –’
‘I didn’t mean to do that,’ said Marianne, suddenly contrite. ‘I would have liked to have given her some warning of our arrival, instead of turning up on the doorstep when she thought I was at the Cosgroves’. Particularly as I had a party of men in tow. But it was just not possible.’
‘Has she scolded you yet?’ he asked with a gleam in his eye.
‘Yes,’ she admitted with a lift at the corner of her own mouth.
‘Good! Then you have been told off for your exploits, and I have been told off for mine. It is quite like being children again, isn’t it, Mari?’
She laughed. ‘In a way. But children don’t tell their families they have run up a fortune in gambling debts, and then go to rescue people from the Revolution,’ she remarked with raised eyebrows.
Kit sighed, and shifted his injured leg.
‘Now that was not well done of me. I confess I almost didn’t go through with it. But I could think of no other way. It seemed better in the end to let you think I was a wastrel than to have you worrying I might be dead.’
Marianne nodded. ‘I hate to admit it, but I think you were right. If I’d known you’d gone to rescue Adèle, I wouldn’t have had one peaceful night’s sleep until you were safely back. But it has been very bad for Papa.’
Kit sombred. ‘Yes. I’ve heard. Tom told me he’s become a recluse. Is it true, Mari?’
Marianne sighed. ‘Yes. He took to his room several months ago. It was with a cold, at first, and I thought he would be up and about again in no time, but his lowness of spirits persisted even when his cold had gone. I called Dr Moffat, who said he just needed time to recover his strength, but somehow it never came back. And alone in his room he brooded, so that his spirits became lower all the time. It was a vicious circle in the end. The more he brooded, the more despondent he became, and the more despondent he became the more incapable he became of leaving his room. And the more he stayed in his room, the more he brooded . . . ’
Kit frowned. ‘I’m sorry for it. I really didn’t think it would hit him that hard.’
‘I think, for Papa, it would have been better if he had known the truth. He would have worried, and he would have forbidden you to go, but he would not have lost hope when you left. It broke his spirit to know, or think, that his son and heir was a gambler.’
Kit nodded. ‘What I did, I did for the best, but even so . . . However, there’s no point dwelling on the past. What’s done is done. And besides, when Papa learns the truth I hope to find it will restore his health.’
‘I think it will,’ said Marianne. ‘Especially,’ she said with an innocent look, ‘when you tell him that you are to marry Adèle.’
Kit’s eyebrows rose. ‘And what makes you think that?’
She twinkled at him. ‘Are you trying to deny it?’
He laughed, warmly and happily. ‘Not I. But there remains a formality. In all the confusion I have not had an opportunity to ask h
er yet. Once my leg is better I mean to take her out to our tree house and ask her to be my wife.’
‘The tree house. Where we all used to play as children. That’s a good idea.’
‘I want to make our betrothal unique,’ agreed Kit. ‘So, no more talk of this until we are safely engaged.’
Marianne put her finger to her mouth in a gesture from their childhood. ‘My lips are sealed.’
‘But I am not the only one to be teased on such a subject,’ he said with mock innocence. ‘It seems to me you have a secret of your own.’
She suddenly sobered. ‘I . . . I don’t know what you mean,’ she said hesitantly.
‘You and Luke. No, don’t deny it. I saw your face when he was shot. You’re in love with him, aren’t you, Mari? Or if you’re not, you should be. Luke’s a bit rough around the edges, perhaps, but all the more exciting for that. Or so most young ladies think,’ he teased.
The Earl Next Door Page 16