Lord Atherton's Ward

by Fenella Miller

  ‘I am their guardian. It would be outrageous for me to take advantage of my position.’ He closed his eyes and even after all these months he could still see an image of Miss Ellison; her green eyes had haunted him all summer. ‘In fact I object to nothing about the younger girl, Miss Jane, she is everything she ought to be. It is the older, Sarah Ellison, that I find impossible to deal with. I find myself either wishing to strangle her or….’ He didn’t finish - one did not discuss such things even with one’s closest friend.

  He was three years older than Dickon, but had forged a friendship when they had met at Cambridge many years before. Colonel, Lord Mainwaring had served in Wellington’s army, but had had resigned his commission after being injured at Waterloo.

  ‘How’s the leg, Dickon? You are limping less nowadays.’

  ‘It’ll never be quite the same; I shall not cut a pretty figure on the dance floor again. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my leg.’

  The carriage rocked and Perry thought they had hit unevenness in the road, but then it rocked again. This time he heard the horses panic. He surged to his feet and lowering the window, stuck his head out. Immediately his hair was blown into his eyes by the howling gale.

  ‘There’s a storm brewing, the wind’s got up, and there are black clouds thundering in from the sea.’ The carriage rocked as his friend moved to the other window to see for himself.

  ‘It’s no more than three miles to Kesgrave,’ he shouted to his coachman who was having difficulty controlling the spirited horses. ‘Take it carefully. I’m sure we shall arrive before the storm breaks.’

  He settled back this time with his boots firmly on the floor. He grasped the leather strap by the window to brace himself as the carriage lurched its way forward. By the time they arrived at Kesgrave Hall he was relieved to step down on to the gravel turning circle in front of the handsome entrance.

  The air was filled with swirling green and gold leaves and his coat tails flapped about him. From here he could see the storm would be soon upon them. They had barely made it in time.

  He was pleased that his arrival had been noted by the ever vigilant butler. The front door opened and a trio of footman raced down to collect their trunks and escort them inside.

  Foster bowed. ‘You are expected, my lord. The best apartment has been prepared.’ He glanced enquiringly at Dickon.

  ‘This is Lord Mainwaring, have something made ready for him.’

  ‘The guest apartments are always prepared, my lord.’ He waved an imperious hand and two further footman materialized. ‘Conduct Lord Atherton and Lord Mainwaring upstairs to their chambers. Lord Mainwaring to the blue room, Lord Atherton to the green.’

  Perry had no intention of traipsing up to his apartments. He wanted to see Sarah. He had thought of little else in the last few months.

  ‘Where are Miss Ellison and Miss Jane? I wish to see them straight away.’

  ‘Miss Jane is in the orangery at the side of the house, my lord. I’m not sure of the whereabouts of Miss Ellison. But I’m sure that Miss Jane will be able to help you in this matter.’

  ‘Dickon, I must speak to Miss Ellison and Miss Jane straight away.’ His friend waved cheerfully and proceeded slowly up the stairs.

  Foster conducted him through the house, and he glanced approvingly at the immaculate carpet on the floor, the freshly painted walls, newly gilded frames on the paintings. In fact he couldn’t fault the house. It was a grand house, equally as spacious as any he owned, but for some reason he had felt more at home here than in his own establishments. His lips twitched. He wondered if he’d still feel the same after his first brush with the adorable Miss Ellison.

  The butler paused at the entrance to the glass house and announced him loudly.

  ‘Lord Atherton to see you, Miss Jane.’

  The young woman was not tending to the orchids but staring out of the window. She turned to greet him, and he saw her face was pale, her eyes anxious. ‘My lord, I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life. Sarah went out before nine this morning taking a picnic with her. The storm is almost upon us and she has not returned. I fear something terrible has happened.’

  ‘She has her groom with her?’

  The girl nodded. ‘Sarah always takes a groom, she is not completely without sense.’

  He begged to differ, but refrained from saying so. ‘In which direction has she gone? Did Miss Ellison tell you where she was intending to picnic?’

  ‘I have discovered that she went to a beach that is a good hour’s ride from here. It is still on our land, my lord, but it is wild and desolate, I believe that it’s used by smugglers. My father never let her go down there, I cannot think why she chose to do so when there was a storm coming.’

  ‘Are you telling me, Miss Jane, that your sister knew the likelihood of bad weather and still chose to ride in that direction?’

  The girl nodded miserably. ‘When she left the sky was blue, no wind at all. Even though the seagulls had been flying inland since dawn she refused to accept the signs.’

  He stepped forward and gently grasped her hands. ‘Do you have a horse that is up to my weight?’

  ‘Yes, we still have my father’s hunters, we could not bear to part with them. I’m sure either of them would be suitable.’

  ‘Excellent. I have a companion with me, Lord Mainwaring, he was a military man. Excuse me, my dear, I shall collect him and then go in search of your sister. I’m sure she has come to no harm. She has a groom with her, whatever else she might be, she is intelligent enough to take shelter if needs be.’

  He gave her hands a comforting squeeze and ran back to the vast entrance hall. Dammit! He had a bad feeling about this. If nothing untoward had happened she would have returned hours ago.

  He shouted to a footman. ‘Direct me to my apartment. Send word to the stables to saddle the hunters. I shall require someone who has knowledge of the area to accompany us.’

  Barely a quarter an hour later he was astride a handsome hunter of more than sixteen hands, Dickon on a similar mount, and two grooms on sturdy cobs beside them. He had the foresight to pack blankets and rope. It would seem the cliffs were steep; he prayed he would not have need of the climbing gear to find Miss Ellison.

  Chapter Six

  Sarah was sitting contentedly on the beach watching the waves rippling in when a sudden gust of wind covered her in sand. She stood up and a second flurry almost removed her hat. She turned to call to her groom who was sitting holding the two horses whilst they grazed on the springy turf at the top of the bank.

  ‘Bill, I think we should head back. The wind is getting up and I’m certain I can see black clouds on the horizon.’

  ‘I shall have them tacked and ready in a few moments, miss. It was becoming a mite breezy up here these past few minutes.’

  Securing her hat more firmly, she shook the sand from her habit. It had been a pleasant morning and she was sorry to leave before having eaten her picnic, but the cliff path they had to negotiate would not be safe in the rain.

  Sultan nuzzled her. ‘I know, silly fellow. You are as eager as I to return.’ Up here the wind was more ferocious and her divided skirts flapped wildly around her booted ankles. She turned for Bill to toss her into the saddle. Gathering her reins she turned her horse in the direction of Kesgrave Hall. To her horror in the short time since she had left the beach the waves were no longer ripples but white crested and racing in far quicker than before.

  ‘What time is high tide, Bill?’

  ‘Not for another hour, that gives us ample time to get off the beach.’

  Sarah wasn’t so sanguine. They had to ride along the cliff top for a mile or two and then drop back to the beach as the terrain became impassable. It was this section that would be difficult if they arrived there at high water. It had been her intention to remain where she was, eat her picnic and return when the tide was ebbing; this was no longer possible. Although the beach she was on would remain dry it offered no shelter from the gale.

/>   Deciding it would be better to risk a tumble by galloping than be caught by the icy North Sea, she dug in her heels. They thundered along the turf without mishap to arrive at the narrow path that led back to the beach. She could hardly hear the sea over the noise of the wind. She was already chilled to the marrow. It was hard to believe that an hour ago she had been basking in the warm September sun.

  Not waiting to see if her groom was following, she guided Sultan down the track. His hooves slithered in the loose shale and twice she was forced to grab his mane in order to avoid a fall. She glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to see Bill close behind.

  When the path emerged from between the scrub, she could see they were in time. The sea was decidedly rough but still a reassuringly long distance from the base of the cliff. However, the clouds that had been a thin black line twenty minutes ago were now rolling in as fast as the tide. She resigned herself to the fact that she was in for a soaking.

  The sound of falling stones heralded the arrival of her groom; she urged Sultan forward and he jumped the last few yards. The sand here was firm, Sarah thought it would be safe to canter in the lee of the cliff, rather than on the open beach where they would be buffeted by the gale coming off the sea.

  ‘We’ve not got long to cover this stretch, Bill, if we want to be away from the cliffs before the rain starts.’

  He pulled his cap down hard over his ears and nodded grimly. She was surprised he still had it on his head the way the wind was blowing. Kicking her horse into a canter, she crouched down over his neck hoping the wind would not seem as fierce as when she was upright. By the time they reached the narrow track that ran up the face of the cliffs to safety, the sea was alarmingly close. The rain blew into her face as she reined back waiting for her companion to catch up.

  ‘Will you go first, Bill. Sultan is becoming agitated by the noise and the wind. I think if he follows you he will be calmer; if he shies whilst we are climbing we could both tumble down the cliff.’

  ‘I think it would be better, Miss Ellison, if I led him up; you take my mount, and I’ll follow behind with him.’

  Sarah considered the offer. It made sense; he was stronger than her and when her horse was in this sort of mood he might well respond better to a man at his head. She swung down from the saddle, drawing the reins over his head. ‘Do you think I should lead Bess?’

  ‘No, miss, you ride. It’ll be quicker that way.’

  The mare felt strange after riding her spirited gelding, but she was glad to be on an animal who showed no sign of alarm at the worsening weather conditions. She patted the horse’s neck and clicked her tongue. Bess obediently plodded forward unbothered by the steep terrain.

  When Sarah had descended the path earlier that day it had been sunny and she’d been more concerned with the beach than the gradient. It was only now that she was forced to stand in the stirrups, leaning forward over the horse’s withers in order to help the animal keep its balance did she realise how steep it was. Their progress was hampered by a howling wind and icy rain was making the ground slippery and even more treacherous.

  She didn’t dare to look over her shoulder to see how her groom was managing. Gripping fiercely with her knees, her hands entwined in the mane, she urged Bess forward with voice and heels. Several times the horse stumbled, but continued without either of them coming to harm. The end was in sight; a few more yards and they’d be safe at the top of the cliff. ‘Come on, Bess, we’re nearly there. It will be much easier for you when we’re back on level ground.’

  The horse responded, she felt the muscles bunch under her hands and then with a final heave they were there. She turned to see how much further Bill had to travel with Sultan. He had more than a third of the way to travel, but the gelding was climbing steadily, apparently ignoring the driving rain. They were going to be all right.

  A sudden crash of thunder directly overhead made Bess rear in fright and she felt herself falling and then everything went black.

  * * * *

  The weather continued to deteriorate as Perry, his friend by his side, galloped behind the two grooms in the direction of the sea. He’d donned his riding coat and was glad he’d done so. After thirty minutes hard riding his mount was still full of energy; he had a feeling he was going to need every ounce of strength the animal had before this incident was over.

  The grooms gestured towards a woodland up ahead. He waved back, there was no point in attempting to converse, the wind whipped away the words. Dickon was thundering along completely at ease in spite of the storm and his damaged leg. He smiled across at him and he raised his hand.

  Beneath the trees it was dark and although the path was flat enough to gallop he thought it better to drop back into a canter. He sat back in the saddle exerting a slight pressure on the reins and the hunter responded instantly. It was also quieter out of the rain and he was able to make himself heard.

  ‘Dickon, from what the groom told me before we left, the other side of this woodland are the cliffs. Miss Ellison must have met with an accident or are we would have seen them by now.’

  ‘I fear that you’re correct. I pray that whatever has transpired it’s nothing serious.’

  The trees were thinning out and Perry could hear another sound above that of the wind. For a moment he didn’t recognize it, then he realised it was the waves breaking on the cliffs that he could hear. He kicked his mount faster and rode alongside the grooms.

  ‘Is there a track that leads along the top of the cliffs?’

  The man’s face was pale. ‘No, my lord, you have to ride along the beach for a mile, then you can get back on to the track.’

  ‘Dammit! So we cannot get to where Miss Ellison intended to have a picnic until the tide has gone out again?’

  ‘No, sir. We can ride back the way we came and take the long way round, that would take us another hour at least, but it would be quicker than waiting here.’

  He reined in and turned to speak to Dickon. ‘Did you hear that? We have to turn back and go through the villages, it’s not possible to get through this way now the tide’s in.’

  ‘Let’s give the horses a breather, shelter here for a short while. Twenty minutes will not make any difference to Miss Ellison, but if we press on immediately and our mounts will be blown before we’re finished.’

  ‘Very well, you wait here. But I’m going to ride to the cliffs and check for myself.’ What he didn’t say was that the assumption that Sarah was safe at the other side of the headland could be erroneous. What if they’d been caught by the tide? He felt sick. Suddenly he knew he had to hurry, knew that every second counted. Twenty minutes was far too long.

  He rode around the grooms and slapped his reins either side of his horse’s neck. Ignoring the shout of warning from his friend he urged it faster, galloping flat-out towards the gap in the trees where the path down to the beach would be.

  * * * *

  It was so cold and wet. Where was she and what was that dreadful banging noise below her?

  Why did her head hurt so much? Slowly Sarah came to her senses and remembered that she’d taken a tumble when Bess had reared unexpectedly. Without moving she flexed her legs and found that they were both unbroken. Next she slid her right hand sideways - it touched a solid mass. Puzzled she spread out her left hand and found it was dangling in a void.

  She froze in shock. There was only one place she could be. Forcing her eyes open she carefully turned her head, a searing pain ripped through and for a moment everything went black again. When she came to she knew where she was, knew what had happened. She had fallen over the cliff but by some miracle had landed on a narrow ledge and was resting there, above the waves, but from the sound, not far enough.

  From a distance she heard a voice calling her. This time she knew better than to open her eyes or move her head. She opened her mouth and tried to call out but the sound was small, not nearly loud enough to carry to whoever was shouting at her. She tried to make sense of what she heard. It must be
Bill shouting down to her; this meant at least he was safe. That was all that mattered, they were both alive. Jane would send out a search party when she didn’t return and she would be rescued. All she had to do was lie still until help came.

  It was strange, but she felt as if she was lying in a puddle. A very cold puddle. Maybe the rain had collected and she was resting in that. Then it felt as if someone had tipped a bucket of water over her feet and she knew what it was. The ledge she was on was not above sea level. If she didn’t get to her feet she would be swept away or drowned by the incoming tide.

  From somewhere she found the strength to push herself upright. Her head spun, but she knew if she didn’t move she would die. Another wave broke across and instantly her skirts were sodden. They would weigh her down, she would have no chance if she was washed into the sea with all that heavy material around her ankles.

  Her fingers were so stiff with cold she wasn’t sure they’d do her bidding. She reached behind and found the button that held her habit secure around her waist. If she could undo it, the garment would fall to her ankles leaving her in her britches and boots, she would have a better chance like that. Eventually she succeeded and felt her skirt to begin to slide down her hips. All she had to do was get to her feet and then at least her head would be above the waves even if her feet were submerged.

  She swallowed a mouthful of salt water and coughed, almost losing her balance and toppling into the sea. The pain in her head was so bad she couldn’t think straight. She knew she had to be upright and turn her back to the cliff. Nothing else mattered. She ignored the frantic shouts coming from somewhere above her, it was taking all her concentration to accomplish these simple tasks.