by Lauren Smith
“It does not matter how one begins, I believe, but how it ends. What is your answer?”
Her face radiant, she looked up and smiled. “You may call me Leah.”
“That means – ? You will – ?” Adam felt like capering for joy. Leah! What a wonderful, beautiful name! A name he would enjoy saying for the rest of his life. He wanted to hold her, to take her into his arms and never let her go, to know her intimately as a husband should know a wife, but she put her hand on his chest, holding him away from her.
“Just be glad it is not Rachel, and your name is not Jacob,” she said wryly.
“I would gladly labor for seven years to claim you.”
“Heathen. It was fourteen. I do hope you are better in finances than that! And, if we are to have any hope as a family, I need to go to work.” She turned and would have gone to her horse, but Adam reached out to grab her arm.
“No. That part of your life is over. You will not go out again.”
Her eyes flashed, bright even in the semi-darkness of the barn. “We are not yet wed. You have no right to dictate to me, now or ever.”
“But it is too dangerous! You cannot be putting yourself at such risk.”
“It is my risk and my choice. Now release me and let me do what I must. There is a stage coming tonight carrying a full complement of passengers. In all charity I must relieve them of their gold. It is so good for their souls, you know.” She was laughing, but there was steel under the silvery sound. She twisted her arm free from Adam’s grip. “Please do not make me have Stovall hit you again. Carrying you upstairs is so very tiring.”
“Leah – ” Adam began, but suddenly Stovall, resembling a malign leprechaun more than ever, stepped in front of him, a rough wooden cudgel in his hand. “Leah, you must listen to me…”
Perhaps Adam thought she must, but Leah obviously felt differently. With a practiced twist of her hand, she tied her hair up into a knot, then secured it with a heavy but plain comb and put on her hat. Leaping into the saddle with an ease and grace that almost made it seem as if the laws of gravity did not apply to her she rode out the small door, lying flat in the saddle to do so, but only after giving Adam a cheery wave.
“How can you let her do this?” Adam asked angrily of Stovall.
“How can I stop her?” the leprechaun replied, then walked off.
For a moment Adam’s mind rioted with plans of riding after her, catching her and making her stand down, but fortunately his oft-ignored common sense said such a thing would be useless. Both Lady Amelia’s riding horses were too old and infirm to attempt anything but a slow amble, and the plough horse was probably the same. The coach job horses couldn’t be the equal of that great dark horse even if they weren’t tired out from their grain trip. Bucephalus was the equal of Leah’s mount, but he was safely stabled in far-away London. No, Adam was powerless, and the feeling grated on him.
At least he could start cleaning up the mess he had made here, and – however ungentlemanly - that began with breaking his promise of marriage to Lady Amelia.
Chapter 10
Adam knocked on the door to her ladyship’s suite, then again after a minute or two without response. This time the door opened a crack and an older woman peered out.
“Yes?”
“I need to speak to Lady Amelia.”
“No. She’s sleeping.”
She would have closed the door, but Adam slapped his hand against the heavy old wood. “Then wake her. I must speak to her.”
The woman’s face darkened, looking like nothing so much as a she-wolf protecting her cub. “I said she is asleep, Mr. Ferrour.”
“At this hour? It is barely past sunset.”
“She has a headache. I gave her something to make her sleep.”
“But I must talk to her! It is important.”
“It will keep until morning.”
The old woman was both determined and strong. Putting her body against the door she slowly shoved it closed. The click of an ancient latch closing was sharp in the silence of the old castle. Adam raged inwardly, but knew it would be ridiculous to pound on the door. Lady Amelia’s servant was more than capable of ignoring him.
And what did it matter? His mind was made up. It would make no difference whether Lady Amelia knew of his decision tonight or in the morning. Let her sleep.
But he did have to tell her father. If he and Leah were to leave in the morning, he had to tell the Earl tonight. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more unpleasantness in the morning – being jilted could break Lady Amelia’s calm; hopefully she would accept the situation without breaking out into hysterics.
The Earl was still in the library, glum-faced and desultorily shuffling and dealing the cards. At Adam’s entrance he looked up and his face was suddenly illuminated.
“Ah, my boy, you’ve come back! I knew you were a right ‘un, that you couldn’t turn down an evening of cards! Come, sit down and be sure to pour yourself a tot of brandy before we get started.”
The thought of more of the Earl’s foul brandy made Adam’s stomach – already knotted with tension – writhe. “I must tender my apologies, your lordship, but it is not a time for cards.”
“Don’t be such a gudgeon,” Radston said genially and began to shuffle the cards in earnest. “It’s always time for a game of cards between gentlemen. Sit down, sit down…”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have to tell you I cannot marry Lady Amelia and am withdrawing my suit.”
The Earl was thunderstruck, his jaw gaping so wide it seemed impossible. He shook his head and stared blankly at the younger man. “But you just asked her this morning.”
“I know, sir, and it was an egregious mistake on my part. I will do anything and everything I can to ease Lady Amelia’s path in life, but I cannot marry her.” Adam inhaled and metaphorically took his courage in his hands. “I wish to marry your other daughter.”
If Adam had thought to air his suspicions about Leah’s parentage and perhaps shock his lordship by doing so, he was astonished at the Earl’s reaction. Reston stared blankly at him for all as if he had suddenly grown a second head.
“My other daughter? What other daughter? I only have the one, and you’re already betrothed to her.”
Well, thought Adam, it might stretch credulity, but it was possible he simply did not wish to acknowledge the other girl, or perhaps he truly did not know about her, as improbable as it might sound. Not that it made any difference; it mattered naught to him on which side of the blanket Leah had been born. She was the girl he loved, the girl who had not only turned his world, but he himself right around. He felt as if he had aged a decade, finally becoming a man, since he met her.
“A betrothal which I must now break, your lordship. My heart…”
The Earl continued to stare. “Your heart? Young man, what on earth does your heart have to do with marriage?”
Adam shook his head. There was obviously no way to communicate with the Earl, and he knew it would be even more impossible to make Old Emmanuel see his viewpoint. He didn’t really understand it himself, but for the first time in his life he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I’m sorry I cannot convey my feelings, your lordship, but I know what must be done and what I say stands. I will speak to Lady Amelia in the morning, and then be gone. Thank you for your hospitality, and I am sorry things did not work out as you wished.”
Leaving the Earl still gaping, so shocked he was even neglecting to shuffle his beloved cards, Adam turned and bounded up the steps to his room. There was so much to do. Tell John Coachman they would be leaving in the morning. Convincing Leah that she must come with him and hope she could understand why they must be satisfied with a less than elegant wedding and a straightened life, at least for a little while. Part of Adam wished that he could just take Leah and vanish, perhaps to Ireland or even America, but that was no way to start a new life. He had been regarded as a brave man by his regiment, but inwardly he quailed at the thought of facing his
father even as he knew had to do so. Old Emmanuel would be furious, but Adam knew that if he were to really be regarded as a man he would have to face him, no matter how angry the old man might become. Sir Emmanuel did not know it yet, but he had lost the power to dictate to Adam.
“Sir?”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Adam said, grateful that he did not have to send for John Coachman. He had wondered what the arrangements for servants were like belowstairs, but considering what the accommodations were like abovestairs it was small wonder he spent most of his time in Adam’s room, fiddling with his clothes and boots.
“How can I help you, sir?”
“We are leaving in the morning. Please see that we are packed and the coach hitched before breakfast. We’ll eat at the first inn we come to.”
The older man’s lined and leathery face all but glowed. “We’re leaving? Tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Adam didn’t see any reason to tell him they would be taking Leah with them. If only the restrictions on marriages weren’t so restrictive! It took weeks to call the banns, an over-the-anvil wedding in Scotland was scandalous – let alone Scotland being several days away – and if he were to have any money left Adam could not afford the cost of a Special License. No, he would have to horde away what he had left in order to have enough to support Leah and keep her from putting herself in any more danger.
No, he decided, as ridiculously long as it took, they would have to have the banns called. There was no way his father would accept Leah into his household unmarried – and probably not either one of them once she and Adam were married – so he would have to think of something.
Adam’s old nurse lived in a tiny village called Warrington Worthy, a day’s ride north of London. Old Emmanuel had pensioned her off generously; Leah could be safely left there until Adam could see to the details of their wedding. It was at best an imperfect solution, but the best one he could contrive at the moment.
John Coachman almost hummed as he began packing Adam’s boxes, so obviously happy that it irrationally irritated Adam, who was becoming more and more tense. He stared out into the thickening dark.
What if Leah for all her protestations of reciprocated emotions would not go with him? What if she refused to give up the excitement and power of being a knight of the road? A thief? What if she had only been toying with him, regarding him as nothing more than a momentary plaything?
What if she were already pledged to another man?
The questions clawed at Adam’s mind like a caged and starving lion and at last he could stand it no longer. He had to talk to her, to get firm answers, to tell her what needed to be done… to stop this insanity of her putting herself in the danger inherent on the High Toby. If he had to go looking for her riding one of the job horses he would.
Outside full dark had fallen and the moon, though barely clearing the trees, washed the land with a faint silver. Adam had no real idea of how much time had actually passed since they had parted, but it felt as if it had been years, centuries, aeons.
Halfway to the stables his heart gave a little leap as he saw the familiar figure clad in black, wearing a slouch hat and swirling cape, coming toward him.
Whatever was she doing, he wondered with a touch of temper, making herself visible to the castle and to anyone in the park?
It wasn’t until she stumbled and fell that he began to run.
Even in the faint light the shiny wetness on her side was visible. Here it looked black, but Adam could tell that it was blood – a great deal of blood.
“Leah! How badly are you hurt?” He knelt beside her, fear making him shudder.
“Badly enough. Help me stand – I must get upstairs… now. It – it was a trap. Lord Waite had men waiting. I don’t think I led him here, but I’m not sure…”
Adam stood, but instead of helping her to her feet swooped her into his arms, all too painfully conscious of how light she was, how frail she felt in his arms. And, he thought, all reason being driven from his brain, that demmed Waite had had the temerity to order his men to shoot her!
“Use the stairs in the kitchen garden. They are – ”
“I know,” he said, walking as fast as he dared with the precious burden in his arms. It would never do if he stumbled and hurt her more. “I used them last night.”
Last night? Only one short day, and his entire life had changed forever. He had known Leah for only hours, yet now he could not imagine living without her. If she lived.
She had to live!
Chapter 11
By the time he reached the second floor of the castle and navigated the maze of crumbling corridors Adam was a little more winded than he liked. At last he reached his room and laid her tenderly on his bed, hardly noticing how her flood of blonde hair spread over his pillow. John Coachman, to his relief, was gone. There was no way he wanted anyone to know of Leah’s presence. He had to think of a way to get her out of the castle and off to safety in secrecy, but first he had to attend to her wound. Gently he ripped her blouse open, trying not to hear her groans of pain as he did so, to expose the white flesh of her side where spreading red blood all but obscured the ugly black hole torn in her flesh.
In spite of his experiences on the Peninsula, the many injured and mangled bodies he had seen, Adam prayed he would not throw up. It was only the knowledge that she – his love, the future partner of his life – was in such extremis, that she needed him to live kept him steady and calm. Dampening the end of a towel in the water pitcher, he began to clean away the blood as gently as he could.
“Get Martha,” Leah whimpered. “I want Martha.”
“Martha? Lady Amelia’s maid?” Adam asked in surprise. What…?
“Yes. Now.”
Adam sprinted to the door. If his beloved wanted that sour old lady she would have her. It made no difference if her ladyship had a headache or not, Martha would attend to Leah!
He pounded thunderously on Lady Amelia’s door, not caring for the suffering of the room’s occupant. Martha, scowling fiercely, opened the door a crack and growled at him for making such a noise. Adam did not care; if it was necessary for him to kick down the door and carry the old besom to his room he would.
“You are wanted. Leah is injured.”
A strange mixture of panic, shock and fear washed over the old woman’s face and she flung the door open, almost pushing Adam aside in her rush to get into the hall.
“Where?”
“My room.”
Who could have known that the maid could move so quickly, given her age and bulk? Adam had to run to keep up with her.
“Oh, my lady!” she cried, running to her bedside. “What have you done?”
“It was a trap, Martha. Waites…”
“That devil of a man. He has set his eyes on destroying this place since you turned down his suit. Enticing your father into games he couldn’t afford, hanging around you like a dog in heat… You!” she snapped at Adam. “Bring that ewer over here. And every towel.”
Adam heard every word, but it was as if he were entrapped in some queer mesh. How could he have been so stupid, so blind? Amelia, Leah. Leah… Wasn’t Leah a pet name for Amelia?
“Now!” Martha said, and he jumped to obey.
Lady Amelia groaned again as Martha went to clean her side. Kneeling on the other side of the bed he grabbed her clenched hands and gave her his own to hold, tenderly kissing her tense, bone-white fingers.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted to know if you wanted to marry me or the Earl of Radston’s daughter,” she said through gritted teeth. Pearls of sweat were dotting her face.
“I want to marry you, no matter who you are. But you didn’t have to play highwayman so convincingly… Look at what has happened! You could have been killed.”
“It is not as bad as I feared, Lady Amelia,” said Martha, dropping a third sopping, red-stained towel to the floor. “It went completely through, just on the outer edge of your side, and I do not thi
nk it hit anything vital.”
“Then why does it hurt so badly?” her ladyship asked, gripping Adam’s hands the harder.
“Because it has torn a lot of flesh, and needs to be stitched. You will have to be brave, my lady.”
“Do what you have to do.”
“First we must move you to your own room. It is indecent for you to be in this man’s bed.”
For a moment the pain vanished from her eyes as she looked up into Adam’s face and once again he saw his beautiful blonde highwaywoman in all her impudent glory. “At least until the wedding.”
Martha huffed, but said nothing beyond, “Let me help you to rise, your ladyship…”
“She will do no such thing. I will not have her worse hurt.” With the grace of a Prince in the fairy tales a young Amelia had loved Adam picked her up and, following Martha, carried her to her bed, waiting until the maid had covered the sheet with a thick layer of towels.
“I will go get what is needed. You should return to your own room, sir.”
“And leave my Leah alone? No. Go get what you must so she can get this over with.”
“I will bring some laudanum, too, so she can rest easy.” Though her words were brisk, the old maidservant’s face softened as she swept from the room.
“Why did you do it, Leah? Put yourself in such danger? It can’t be just to see if I loved you for yourself – how could any man fail to love you? What made you act so foolishly?”
Her eyes shot blue fire. “Foolishly – ! If I had not, we would have starved to death. How do you think I keep food on our table? If I had not, what tenants we have left would be hungry and some of them without homes because they had crumbled around them. Our people are our responsibility! If I had not, our land would be completely ruined instead of only partially. It takes money to keep people alive, Mr. Ferrour. I don’t expect you to know that, but trust me, there has to be money, even for the very little we have, and it has to come from somewhere.”
“I – I did not know…”