Vision in Blue

by Nicole Byrd

  The sturdy little horse settled into a steady gait. After a time, the sun dipped behind the trees, and the blue sky faded into rose and lavender and then gray, then at last a soft darkness surrounded them. The air cooled. A sliver of moon rose, but its light was faint. When it slipped behind a cloud or trees shadowed the road and made the going more treacherous, Matthew tightened the reins, and the horse fell into a walk. If their steed stepped into a pothole and lamed itself, they would both be on foot. When the moon reappeared, he urged the horse back to a trot.

  Even as he decided they would make their way back to town without problem, a hare darted across the road, passing just beneath the horse’s nose. The roan shied.

  Cursing, Matthew tightened the reins, but he felt the woman gasp and her hold on his waist slip. He could feel her sliding—she had been thrown off balance and was about to fall beneath the horse’s nervously dancing hooves. He put one hand out to grab her arm and with the other tried to calm his steed. While he fought the frightened horse, he thought, in one corner of his mind, the only part not consumed with fear for her, that a flapping sail was easier to control any day.

  But although she cried out, the woman did not fall. He clung to her, and he heard her moan with pain. When the horse quieted, at last, Matthew could release his grip on the reins and allow her to slide safely down. He jumped off the horse and tied the reins to a nearby tree, then hurried to her.

  She was shivering.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, taking her gently by the shoulders. She gasped.

  “No, I am not bloody well all right!” she shot back. “I think you have broken my arm. It hurts abominably!”

  “Let me see. Where does it hurt?”

  He probed gently, in his concern forgetting both his desire and her sense of modesty. Her gasp of pain told him, and the feel of her body.

  “It’s not broken,” he told her.

  “Then why do I feel as if my whole shoulder is afire?” she retorted. He could see the glimmer of tears on her cheeks.

  “You have dislocated it,” he told her. “Hanging on to me with only one arm pulled the bone awry. But don’t worry.”

  Even in the faint moonlight, he could see her look of skepticism. “No?”

  “I have seen it before. I know what to do. Look, here is a nice broad tree trunk. Just lean against it for a moment.”

  “I don’t think you should—I need a surgeon,” she argued. But she did lean back, shutting her eyes for an instant. And he took his chance.

  Eyes flying open, Gemma cried out. Such a flash of pain—but now the agony was gone, leaving only a lingering deep ache in her shoulder.

  “What did you do?” she demanded.

  “Put it back into place,” he told her matter-of-factly. He reached into his pocket and handed her a white handkerchief so she could wipe her eyes.

  Gemma held it to her face a moment. “Why didn’t you warn me? Oh, I wish I knew how to swear!”

  To her fury, he laughed softly. “I will teach you sometime. If I had told you, if you had braced yourself, it would only have hurt more. Come, I will lift you up to the horse, and I will lead it.”

  “You have to ride, as well, or we will be hours getting back to town,” she argued, still furious at him, and yet she knew she should be thankful, too. He had saved her several times tonight. Only, why did he have be so—so damned decisive about it, each time! “If I am gone all night, what on earth will I tell my friend?”

  So he lifted her as gently as possible, settling her in front of the saddle, then untied the horse and somehow sprang up behind her.

  And this time, her head spinning a little, Gemma had every excuse to lean against the comforting solidity of his shoulder—which didn’t ache as hers did, damn him. She found his arm secure around her and once—she almost thought—his lips touched her hair. But she was a little giddy, still, and she might have imagined the last.

  He nudged the horse into a walk. They made slow progress, and she thought they would travel forever before reaching town. Somehow, held tightly in his embrace, that did not seem such a terrible prospect. Eventually, buildings, scattered at first and then more densely clustered, rose up around them. For a time the way was even darker, but soon they approached the west side of the city, with its fine homes, gas streetlights, and better paved, wider avenues.

  Money made all the difference, Gemma thought vaguely, that and a secure social class. It always came back to that.

  She directed him to Louisa’s rented dwelling. When he pulled up the horse in front of the tall edifice, he helped her down once more. Her back and thighs ached as well as her abused shoulder, and she knew that she would be sore tomorrow. Lights glowed from inside the house’s draped windows, and she gazed at the stranger. If she brought him inside now, Louisa would see the man and would have to be told about Gemma’s most inappropriate adventure. And yet, if Gemma let him ride away into the darkness, what if she never saw him again? After so much risk and fearful exertion, the ledgers would be lost to her.

  Perhaps the man guessed at the nature of her quandary. “It would be remiss of me not to see you safely to the door,” he told her. “Do you have family waiting?”

  Sighing, Gemma shook her head. “A friend.”

  “Perhaps I should not come in tonight,” he suggested. “I am not dressed for a social call, and it will seem odd.”

  “But the ledgers—”

  She was interrupted as the door swung open. Gemma flinched, and he stiffened, as well.

  “Gemma!” Louisa stood in the doorway. “I was growing most concerned about you. Oh, you have a friend with you.”

  What could she say? She did not even know his name. And worse, Gemma saw Sir Lucas come to stand beside his fiancé in the doorway. He was frowning. Seeing Gemma turn up with an unexplained male would only confirm his worst suspicions.

  While Gemma hesitated, the man beside her made a smooth bow. “Captain Matthew Fallon, lately of His Majesty’s Navy, at your service.”

  The slight tension in the air seemed to ease.

  “My friend Miss Louisa Crookshank, and her fiancé, Sir Lucas Englewood, both of Bath,” Gemma declared, as the two responded with curtsy and bow to the captain’s greeting.

  A naval captain? Was this true?

  “Would you not join us for dinner, Captain Fallon?” Louisa asked, her expression inquisitive. “We were just about to sit down.”

  “I would not impose upon you on such short notice,” Captain Fallon told her. “Perhaps another time.”

  But the ledgers, Gemma thought. She turned to stare at him.

  He nodded at her anxious expression. “I shall return tomorrow about our unfinished business,” he told her, his tone low. “Ten o’clock, shall we say?”

  “I look forward to it,” she answered, unable to protest with Louisa and Sir Lucas watching. She prayed he would truly return. At least she had his name.

  If it were genuine.

  She could only dip a polite curtsy as he made his bow to her, then he remounted his horse and flicked the reins. Frustrated, she watched him ride away, then she slowly climbed the steps.

  “You must tell us all about your friend, Gemma,” Louisa told her. “Come into the dining room; dinner was just announced.”

  “If you will forgive me for not changing gowns, I will just wash the dust off my hands,” Gemma agreed. “I shall not keep you waiting long.”

  And while she did that, Gemma thought, she must rally her wits to concoct a likely explanation for Captain Fallon’s unexpected appearance!

  When she rejoined them all shortly in the dining room, Sir Lucas stood while the footman held Gemma’s chair for her. She took her seat across from Miss Pomshack, and Louisa’s fiancé sat down again. For a few minutes they were all occupied with filling their plates. But Gemma knew that Louisa would not wait long to begin her questions.

  “Tell us about your handsome captain,” Louisa said. “I did not know you had another acquaintance in London.”
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  “I don’t know him well,” Gemma demurred, dipping her fork into the beef and sauteed mushrooms on her plate. Dinner smelled delicious, even though her mouth had gone dry from nervousness. “We have a mutual acquaintance, that is all.” The image of Mrs. Craigmore, the tyrannical matron at the foundling home, flashed into her mind, but she pushed the vision away and continued, “I did not expect to see him. He has only recently returned from sea.” If he had truly been a naval officer, that seemed a safe enough conjecture.

  Sir Lucas frowned at her. “And you went out alone with him, someone who, as you say, is not well known to you?”

  Raising her chin, Gemma met his skeptical stare. “No, I went out with Lily,” she said. That was true for her excursion yesterday, if not today. “But I sent her on a brief errand. I had taken a hackney, but the driver ignored my instructions to wait for my return and left me stranded. Captain Fallon, who had ventured out on business of his own, came to my rescue and escorted me home when another cab was not to be found. Forgive me for troubling you, Louisa. I had not meant to return so late.”

  Gemma took a deep breath. She only hoped they had not already questioned the maid and knew that part of her story was false.

  Sir Lucas nodded, but Louisa shot her a sharp look. Louisa obviously recognized that some of her tale was concocted, but, to Gemma’s relief, she did not speak, taking another bite of her boiled lobster instead. She looked thoughtful. At least Sir Lucas seemed satisfied by her explanation. He began to tell Louisa of the new coat he had been measured for.

  “A man at my club assures me this tailor is all the crack in the best circles.”

  “Excellent,” Louisa agreed. “I’m sure you will look most handsome in it. I have ordered more gowns, as well.”

  They discussed London fashions while Miss P applied her attention to her food.

  Gemma was now free to eat her dinner as well. Her middle felt amazingly hollow and, despite all her aches, she savored the tender beef and crisp roasted chicken. Still, as the footman brought in more food, she could not help contrasting the linen-draped table before her, laden with its many skillfully prepared dishes, with the meager fare the children at the foundling home had shared. It made it hard to swallow the cunningly iced confections in the second course. Gemma put down her fork and waited for Louisa to signal the ladies’ withdrawal. Even though Sir Lucas would be left to enjoy his port in solitary state, proper form must be kept.

  And when she and Louisa and Miss Pomshack retired to the drawing room, Louisa took her arm and whispered, “All right, the truth now. I asked Lily, and she said she had been out with you yesterday to see a solicitor, but she did not know you had left the house today. You are not in any trouble, are you, Gemma?”

  There was an undertone of unease in Louisa’s query that, Gemma suspected, was not totally intended for her new friend. And she did not blame Louisa for her anxiety. Taking in a stranger had been very generous; it would be only human to be concerned about the possibility of scandalous secrets that might emerge, to Louisa’s detriment as well as Gemma’s.

  “It’s a long story,” she murmured, glancing at Miss Pomshack as they took chairs close to the fire. The evening had turned cool. “I will tell you later.”

  Lucas soon rejoined them, but after a few minutes of conversation, stood once more to take his leave.

  “Going so early? You’re not venturing out to some horrid gaming den, are you?” Louisa demanded, eying him with some reserve.

  “Ladies do not speak of such things,” Lucas told her, his tone dignified. “I am meeting some gentlemen, if you must know, but I am past the first flush of green youth, Louisa. You have no need to worry about me.”

  Eyeing his round cheeks and unlined face, Gemma bit back a smile. He did not yet qualify as old and jaded, no matter how mature he thought he was, but she hoped, for Louisa’s sake, that Sir Lucas was not inclined toward heavy gaming or deep drinking.

  Louisa did not appear convinced, but his next statement diverted her.

  “And I have engaged a box at the theater for tomorrow night, Louisa. I am sure you will enjoy the outing.”

  Louisa clapped her hands. “Oh, that sounds lovely, Lucas!” She followed him into the hall where they could take a private farewell and perhaps share a quick kiss. Miss Pomshack applied herself to some needlework, and Gemma picked up the book of poetry she had been reading yesterday. When Louisa returned, Gemma read aloud from it to amuse the other ladies—and also to keep Louisa’s questions at bay a little longer—until the footman brought in the tea tray before bedtime.

  When they went upstairs, Gemma shut her door and waited for Lily to come and unbutton the back of her gown. But it was Louisa who appeared, robed in a dressing gown, her fair hair hanging loosely down her back.

  “I sent Lily to bed,” she explained. “So we will not be interrupted. And Miss P is already snoring; I can hear her through her door. I want the whole story, now. I asked Lily first of all—fortunately, before Lucas had arrived—and she knew nothing of your whereabouts. What mystery are you up to, Gemma?”

  She came across to undo the back of Gemma’s dress. Gemma was glad for the chance to turn her face away for a moment, to hide her grimace as her sore shoulder protested, and to marshal her thoughts. When she had pulled off the frock and donned her nightdress, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders against the slight chill of the room, she climbed onto the bed. Louisa settled herself at its foot, from her expression ready to listen all night.

  Gemma sighed. “I shall have to start with the errand yesterday,” she told her friend. “First of all, I sent a note to Lord Gabriel’s house. But when Smelters returned, he told me he had learned that Lord Gabriel has not yet arrived in town.”

  “Oh, no!” Louisa exclaimed.

  Raising her brows, Gemma paused. Such distress seemed exaggerated; it was not Louisa who was waiting for the answer to lifelong secrets.

  Louisa blushed. “That is, I was hoping to renew my acquaintance with Lady Gabriel. I need a married lady who is familiar—and accepted—in London society to introduce me at some select gatherings so that I can begin my debut properly. And since my aunt is not yet back from her wedding trip, I had hoped that Lady Gabriel might oblige.”

  “I see,” Gemma said.

  “But most likely, they will arrive soon,” Louisa added with her usual optimistic nature. “Go on. Lord Gabriel is not yet in London. You must have been most disappointed to hear it. I am aware, truly, that the urgency of your errand is greater than mine.”

  Gemma gave her a grateful look. “I was distressed, that is true. Then I thought of the solicitor who has handled my school accounts and who sends me my allowance. If I went to see him, I thought I might find out something about my parents.”

  She told Louisa of the trip to the Inn and the limited information she had obtained.

  “A foundling home?” Louisa’s fair brows shot up. “Oh, Gemma, my poor dear! I had no idea.”

  Gemma found that now she was the one flushing. “It was not a happy time,” she agreed. “But fortunately, it was of short duration.” And more than that, she would not say, she thought. She had no wish for Louisa, with her privileged background, to pity her even more than she might already.

  “So I had the address of the foundling home, and I decided to pay it a visit. The matron there might know who had brought me as a child to the institution, and who might have provided funds for my stay.”

  Louisa’s eyes widened. “You are brave, indeed, Gemma, but you should not have gone alone!”

  “I know that,” Gemma agreed. “But I hated to have the servants know—”

  She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Louisa nodded in understanding. “So you went. Did you learn anything about your family? And where did you meet the captain? He really is scrumptious, you know.”

  Gemma thought about the man’s handsome face. It was impossible to forget the strength of his hands and arms, or the firmness of his back as she pressed herself agains
t it, or how secure she had felt cradled in front of him. Knowing that Louisa was observing her expression, she pushed those memories away.

  “He was on a similar errand, though I have not yet heard the particulars of it. I’m sure he was not at the home himself; it has always held females only. And the hackney really did leave me stranded, and a pox on the driver, too!”

  “Oh, how fortunate that Captain Fallon was there and could escort you back to the city,” Louisa exclaimed.

  “Indeed,” Gemma agreed. She had no intention of telling her friend the rest, how the captain had threatened to throttle her, how they had stolen the matron’s ledgers, or how she had almost fallen from the horse. Despite her impulsiveness, Louisa was well brought up and at heart as conventional as such a lady was supposed to be. Gemma did not want to distress her or alienate a friend of whom she was growing more and more fond. So she closed her lips on the balance of the story and tried to ignore Louisa’s suggestive glance when she remarked that perhaps the captain would call again.

  “Perhaps,” Gemma agreed. “But I am not in need of a suitor, Louisa.”

  Louisa sat up straight. “You are engaged? And you did not tell me!”

  “No, no.” Gemma smoothed the bed linen with one hand to avoid meeting her friend’s startled gaze. “I am not betrothed. But there is a young man in Yorkshire—”

  “Go on,” Louisa commanded when she paused. “Who is he? What is his estate—is it respectable? Where did you encounter him? What are his intentions?”

  Gemma shook her head at the barrage of questions. Louisa sounded for a moment like a maiden aunt, eager to determine the young man’s suitability. “He is the brother of a schoolmate, which is how I came to know him. A small miracle, since my opportunities to meet suitable males have been most limited. His name is Arnold Cuthbertson. He is the son of a local squire, and he has hinted that he wishes to offer marriage, but—”