by Archer, Kate
That idea only lasted a moment, as somebody mentioned what they should do if a mouse were to crawl upon them. As far as anybody could tell, the housemaids regarded hardened housebreakers and adventurous mice as equally perilous. The footmen, at least, maintained some outward stoicism, though their bold claims to be ready to fell the criminals with one blow like any Gentleman Jackson were perhaps more wishing than fact.
Ranier took the further step of pushing a heavy desk across the foyer to block the front doors and he nailed shut the less sturdy wood door that led to the kitchen garden. He and the footman would sleep in the library, ever at the ready to leap out upon the housebreakers.
Lily had been grateful for Ranier’s care, and thought he seemed energized over the whole idea of overcoming thieves. Still, she was perhaps more comforted to know that some of Lord Ashworth’s men were out of doors somewhere. If Mr. Shine and some associates would dare something, she’d rather some hardened types leap upon him than her dear Ranier.
Now, she lay on one side of the massive four poster, listening to her aunt’s gentle snores. The house was quiet and she prayed it stayed that way. She must trust Lord Ashworth to direct them. And protect them.
*
Hayes had made an appearance at Lady Blakeley’s ball. It would already be remarked that Mrs. Hemming and Miss Farnsworth had begged off. It might be suspicious if he did too. It might be said that their absence had something to do with his mask, and their card game. He did not wish any circumstance to connect them all together in people’s minds.
He’d taken the early dances but was careful not to commit himself any further. He could only hope he would not be missed at supper. He especially hoped that Grayson did not think to joke that his friend had hoped to take in Miss Farnsworth and had left in a sulk over her failure to appear. His pistols and the money were packed in his panniers and one of his own grooms stayed with Horus to guard them.
When it was time, he’d slipped out to the terrace just outside of the ballroom, hopped over the low rail and made his way out, ripping off his mask and glad to be done with it.
As arranged, Freddy watched for him and led Horus and his own horse forward. Aside from the panniers on either side holding the money and the pistols, a great coat and a hat were thrown over his saddle. The weather was too warm for the overcoat, but it would conceal his weapons and have them at the ready. He nodded to the boy, mounted and set off, leaving Freddy to make his way home.
He was certain the groom longed to know the cause of this intrigue, and that there would be much speculation over it. That speculation would circle around the stables and then eventually creep its way into the kitchens before finally ending up on Cobb’s lap. When he returned to the house, he fully expected Cobb to greet him with raised eyebrows, though the man would say nothing of the matter. To the servants, Cobb would likely pretend he knew all about it, but could not reveal what he was privy to. While Cobb wasn’t looking, they’d debate it and eventually decide it was some sort of romantic assignation, likely with an irate husband lurking somewhere.
The streets were not desolate, there were plenty of people in carriages and horseback, and some on foot, going from here to there. Hayes pulled the brim of his hat low. London might seem a big place, but it was extraordinary how often one encountered an acquaintance. He did not wish to be seen on the way to this particular assignation.
He made his way into the park, vaguely uncomfortable with the quiet of it. It was more usually the scene of sunshine and crowds and the low hum of hundreds of people talking. Now, it was dark, silent, and empty. At least, it appeared he was alone. He could not know what sort of rogues lurked in the shadows. All he could do was make it clear he was not drunk. It was the drunken fool, swaying on his horse, that always presented the most alluring opportunity.
He stopped Horus and took the loaded pistols from his panniers. He carefully placed them in either pocket of his great coat. If there were a rogue lurking nearby, it would be well he noted that his hoped-for prey was not unarmed.
Mounting, he trotted Horus over a wide field, making his way toward the north side of the Serpentine. The meeting was to take place under a tall stand of trees just beyond the Cake House.
The building came into view, and the stand of trees beyond it. Hayes scanned the area for any sign of Shine, or the horse he might have tied up somewhere. He saw nothing. The night was still and not even the leaves moved. It felt more a painting than a living landscape.
Hayes decided to make a wide skirt around the Cake House, careful to be out in the open. He did not trust Mr. Shine and could not know if the man had brought with him some low associates. Open ground would leave him vulnerable to a shot, but too close to trees would leave him vulnerable to an ambush. If he had to guess, he imagined Shine to be more experienced with sneaking up on a person than he’d be with steady aim over long distance.
Through the murky darkness, he saw a lone figure under the stand of trees he’d been directed to. There he stood—Mr. Shine.
Hayes spurred Horus. He’d decided that the only way to deal with a person of Mr. Shine’s dark intentions was to be the aggressor. Therefore, he intended to come in fast.
Horus galloped over the remaining ground, and Hayes wheeled him to a halt.
Mr. Shine stepped back to avoid being trampled.
“This meeting need not be long,” Hayes said, removing one of the pistols from his coat.
“Hey ho!” Mr. Shine cried. “No need for violence, that I can assure you, my lord.”
Hayes thought that was particularly rich, coming from Shine. He said, “There may not be a need for violence at this moment, but I wish you to understand that this is a well you may only dip into once. If you come back for more in future, if you cause any harm to Miss Farnsworth, I will kill you.”
“A person might get themselves hanged for such a thing,” Mr. Shine said, a subtle tremor in his voice.
Hayes thought the man worked hard to appear confident, though he was not wholly successful.
“It is unlikely that a hew and cry over your murder would ever be made,” Hayes said. “One less scoundrel plaguing the town will not concern anybody. You will leave England and go somewhere. Where, I care not.”
“Yes, all right,” Mr. Shine said in a conciliatory tone. “I was going anyway. Just give me the money.”
Hayes unbuckled the panniers and threw them at Shine’s feet. “I mean what I say, you rogue. If one whisper of you comes to my attention, I will be murderous. Make your way now to a port and be gone.”
Hayes turned Horus. Behind him, he heard Mr. Shine say, “Couldn’t be happier to be on my way. I will need a horse, though.”
A shot rang out and Haye’s felt a burning explosion in his right arm. The pistol in his hand fell and the force of the shot toppled him off his horse. He landed on hard packed ground.
He heard Mr. Shine laugh and footsteps approach. The man was deranged, he should have seen it! Shine had been reckless from the first, why had he thought the scoundrel would be rational at the final hour?
Hayes rolled over and grabbed the pistol from his left pocket, all but certain Shine intended to finish him off.
He fired, his aim not as good from his less-favored hand. He hit Shine in the leg, though he feared it was only a graze.
As Shine fell, grasping at his leg and crawling through the dirt toward his pistol, Hayes leapt up and struggled with one hand to mount Horus. That stalwart beast had not spooked at the shots and run off, leaving him to his fate. It was well he was master of such a horse, as Hayes could feel the blood running down his arm. He was bleeding profusely and must get away before he lost consciousness and was at the villain’s mercy.
Horus stood stock still as he climbed into the saddle, seemingly aware that they were in a perilous situation. Hayes was seated and his feet in the stirrups as Shine rose, clutching his leg and fumbling with his pistol. He briefly thought of grabbing the panniers and taking them back, but quickly threw off that idea.
He knew well enough that would only drive Shine to even more desperate plans. He might decide to kidnap Miss Farnsworth or some other lunatic act. In any case, he could not be sure how much blood he was losing or whether the pistol in Shine’s hand needed to be reloaded or was a second already loaded.
“If I see you again, I will not miss,” Hayes said. He turned Horus and spurred him across the open field, galloping toward the gate and holding on as best he could.
Chapter Fourteen
Though Lily had waited all morning for Lord Ashworth to make an appearance and explain his note of the day before, it was Miss Darlington who was led in. She was dressed smartly in a fitted jacket of yellow silk with thin blue stripes over a skirt of the same blue hue. Lily was certain this was a joke upon the Four-in-Hand Club and their blue waistcoats with yellow stripes. The remarkable phaeton and its scowling tiger sat just outside the window.
“Dear Lily,” she said, sitting down by her friend. “I thought to come and check on you as Lady Blakeley said you were indisposed last evening. But here you are, blooming roses.”
Lily was not surprised her cheeks might have pinked. She never did like to tell a fib, though she reminded herself that it was necessary in this case.
“It was only a temporary illness,” Lily said. “A bad fish, we think.”
“Oh dear, I cannot claim to have had that particular experience, though once my entire family was sickened and we were certain it was a fricasseed chicken. It had been smothered in a heavy sauce so we did wonder if the cook had rolled the dice on that one and come up short. In any case, I am glad you are well.”
“Most recovered,” Lily said. “You are very kind to have thought to look in.”
“Of course, I would. Such a shame about the timing of it, though! To have missed Lady Blakeley’s ball, which is always so amusing. Can you imagine what she made for me? The goddess Epona, protector of horses. I was very pleased, as you might imagine. What had she sent you, Lily?”
Lily rose and crossed the room. She brought her shimmering mask over to Penny.
“It is lovely!” Penny cried.
“I was to be a mermaid,” Lily said. “She wrote that a lady bold enough to challenge a consequential lord was as rare as any mermaid.”
“Ah, I see,” Penny said. “She obliquely references the card games with Lord Ashworth no doubt.”
“Yes, but she was kind about it,” Lily said. “I should have liked to have gone.”
“I do wish you had been able to. We had an exceedingly merry evening,” Penny said. “If you can imagine it, Lady Montague came, I believe for the first time. She has always been invited, but it is said that Lady Blakeley always sends her an insulting mask, knowing she will not wear it. Everybody was surprised to see her.”
Lily felt a vague wave of trepidation, as she always did upon hearing the lady spoken of. “Goodness, what was her mask that she dared it this year?”
Between peals of laughter, Penny said, “She was a Yorkshire pudding! It was a particularly unattractive mask and of course referenced her retreat to the north last season. She came in as bold as anything and claimed she was happy to celebrate the famed dish from her county. It seems she is determined to be everywhere this season.”
Though Lily had been distressed to miss the half mask, she found herself not at all sorry to have missed Lady Montague. She was a dangerous creature and Lily would not have liked to have been one of the party amused by her discomfort. While the lady would have played it off with confidence, she might have also taken some notes.
“Lord Grayson was a magpie,” Penny went on. “It was said to have represented his habit of collecting hearts. He found it very amusing, or so he said. Oh, and you would have laughed at the sight of Lord Ashworth too,” Penny said. “A fan of cards totaling piquet carte blanche. A small dig at him for losing to you, we all thought. Though, I will give him credit for appearing good-humored about it.”
Lily felt frozen in her seat. Lord Ashworth had gone to the ball? Why on earth would he, and then find it not suitable for herself and Mrs. Hemming? All this while, she had imagined him deep in the mystery of Mr. Shine. Perhaps even prowling around the town with his hired men or having turned his library into a center of command as men came and went with news. But that had not been the case, he’d gone to a ball. He’d just made sure that she did not.
And then, his note had been so vague. He’d not given any reason why they should stay away. She had invented the reasons; they had only been her own imaginings.
Lily had a sinking feeling that she might be able to account for this unanticipated circumstance. He meant to extricate himself from whatever attachment had been formed by their adventure together. She could not know it for certain, but she felt it.
“Oh, goodness,” Penny said, “I can see from your expression that I ought not joke about Ashworth. He remains a sore spot. Never mind, shall you like to go on a drive? We might have your carriage follow us, just as your aunt prefers.”
“No, I thank you, Penny,” Lily said, forcing herself to appear cheerful. “I had better not. I am much recovered, but I think I should stay close to home for today.”
Penny patted her hand. “Quite right, I should not like you to have a setback. Lady Hathaway’s ball is in a week. It comes early this year as her daughter is close to her confinement. Last year was divine, it was everything Russia. Lord Cabot tells me that this year we will encounter a Tudor court—we will dance the pavane and eat conger eel.”
Miss Darlington did not stay much longer, as she became convinced that Lily had begun to look a bit peaked.
Lily stayed by the window, watching Penny easily mount her phaeton while her tiger glared at all passersby who dared to look at his interesting mistress.
The phaeton trotted off and Lily propped her chin on her hands. She could see now that her intimate conversation with Lord Ashworth had caused him discomfort. Though she was deeply stung, she supposed he was attempting a kindness. He wished to put some distance between them. He wished her to know that while they had shared an extraordinary situation, and though they had experienced similar circumstances, there was nothing significant in it.
What a rube she’d been! To have imagined that because her own opinions had changed, his had as well. He had rescued her. She ought to be grateful for that, and not ever have expected more.
Lily felt her face flush. How important she’d begun to think herself! As if a country girl of her not-at-all considerable stature had any sway over a lord. She’d been so nonsensical. A lord like Ashworth would marry high or he’d marry an heiress. Knowing his circumstances, it would certainly be an heiress. Lord Grayson had as much said so—it was Miss Blaise who was favored. Lily had got the distinct impression at Lady Catherine’s ball that Lord Ashworth did not care for the lady, but he would do his duty. Had he not been working all this time to regain his estates’ footing? Of course, he would do what was necessary.
But how had she given herself away? He’d somehow sensed that her heart was in danger and moved quickly to disabuse her of her own inclinations. She supposed he’d done it in the gentlest way he could think of. After all, what had been the alternative? That she would go to the ball and he would not put his name on her card? Or he would, and then revert to his earlier aloofness? At least now she could suffer her foolishness in private. Nobody need know of it. Nobody would ever guess at it—it was the general opinion that she did not like him. Nobody need ever discover that her feelings had changed.
But perhaps she was allowing her thoughts to take her in the wrong direction? That idea began to cheer her. Could there not be another reason that it had been necessary for Lord Ashworth to attend the ball, and yet equally necessary that Lily was to stay home?
She could not imagine what such a reason could be and feared she grew over-fanciful. As her practical mother had often said—the truth is right in front of you, if only you would care to look.
Lily sighed. It was no use trying to talk herself round. The tru
th was right in front of her.
She straightened her skirts and picked up her sewing. She must not let her ridiculous notions overcome her. Lily Farnsworth was here for one season only. She had a duty to her mother and father, and most of all, her sisters. All that had happened recently was only a mad adventure that must be forgotten.
She must see if she could like some gentleman who would find her dowry sufficient. One not placed as high as Lord Ashworth. It would not be as thrilling to think of, as whoever that gentleman might be, he would not be as dashing. Or courageous.
Thrilling and courageous must be cast aside for practicalities. She would not return home with nothing to say but having made a fool of herself.
*
The house at Forty Berkeley Square went on in hushed tones, all overseen by Cobb, and Hayes’ valet, Molton. On the night he’d arrived back from his meeting with Shine, the doctor had been fetched and come quickly. The man had pried and poked and then said, rather merrily if Hayes remembered it right, that the shot had lodged deep near a bone but had not broken it. He had a vague recollection of the surgery—he’d been laid on a table in the kitchens as the housekeeper clucked round, scolding housemaids for staring. He was liberally dosed with laudanum, then would wake and be dosed again in what seemed an endless cycle. He had no memory whatsoever of being transferred from the kitchens to his own bedchamber.
After that, he was tended by a series of old women hired by his housekeeper, overseen by Cobb, and harassed by Molton—the valet failing to be impressed by their skills. Mostly, he remembered the women laying hot compresses on the wound and then covering it with honey and fresh bandages. Two days went by in a haze of being forced to swallow medicines and broths. Finally, he began to feel more in the world. His fever had abated and the danger passed.