Disgrace and Desire (13 page)

With a growl of anger Jack stepped towards him, fists raised. Eloise gripped his arm.

‘No, Major, please!

‘She is right to stop you, Clifton. If you lay another finger on me I shall cause a scandal that will destroy what remains of Lady Allyngham’s reputation, and that of her…friends.’ He straightened his coat and made a play of smoothing out the creases of his sleeve. ‘I am going back to bed. I leave you to explain it how you will, Major Clifton. You may try what you can to keep the lady’s name out of this. Oh—my cane, if you please?’

Jack picked up the discarded cane and sheathed the wicked blade.

‘Here.’ He tossed it to Sir Ronald. ‘You had best keep out of
my way, Deforge. I would like nothing better than an excuse to kill you.’

Sir Ronald bared his teeth.

‘Oh, I am well aware of that, Major. I rely upon Lady Allyngham to dissuade you from doing anything foolish.’ He turned to Eloise. ‘Consider my offer, madam. It is all that stands between you and disaster.’ Then, with an airy salute of his cane, he walked down the steps and strolled away, walking past Alex’s body without even a glance.

A
s if released from a spell, Eloise ran down the steps and fell to her knees beside Alex.

‘He breathes,’ she muttered thankfully.

Jack gently turned him on to his back and Eloise bit back a cry. One leg of his buff-coloured pantaloons was black and wet with blood and another dark stain was spreading over the left shoulder of his coat

‘The first thing we must do is to stop the bleeding from his thigh,’ said Jack, pulling off his neckcloth and wrapping it tightly around the wound. Alex groaned.

‘Keep still,’ muttered Eloise, her fingers scrabbling at his throat. ‘I am going to use your cravat to staunch the blood from your shoulder wound.’

‘Damned villain. If only you had let me bring a pistol—’

Eloise choked back a sob.

‘I know, Alex, I am very sorry. It is all my fault—’

‘Recriminations can come later,’ Jack interrupted her. ‘We must get you back to the house, Mortimer. If I help you to stand, do you think you can walk?’

Alex closed his eyes, his brow contracting.

‘I do not know…’

‘Well, we must try. I do not want to send to the house for assistance. The less people who know of this escapade the better.’

‘I can help,’ said Eloise. She blushed, knowing that Jack’s eyes were upon her and added fiercely, ‘I
can.
I carried you over the heath, and Alex is much slighter.’

‘I am also conscious,’ muttered Alex as Jack helped him to his feet. ‘If you let me put my weight on you, Clifton, I think we can manage.’

With Alex’s arm about his shoulders, Jack set off for the house, half-carrying, half-dragging the wounded man. Eloise walked along beside them, keeping the pad firmly pressed over the injured shoulder. It was clumsy and uncomfortable and her heart went out to Alex as he gritted his teeth to prevent himself crying out in pain.

‘Hold on, my dear Alex,’ she muttered, her voice breaking, ‘hold on and we will soon have you safe.’

Jack heard the affection in her voice and blotted out any angry thoughts as he struggled back towards the house with his burden. He must think of Mortimer as a wounded colleague, not a rival, but it was hard to ignore the lady’s concern as she kept pace with them, her whole attention locked upon Mortimer. Jack had left the house by a side door and he was relieved to find that it was still unlocked. By this time Alex had lost consciousness and it took Jack and Eloise’s combined efforts to carry him up the stairs to his room.

When they struggled into the bedchamber Mortimer’s valet fell back, a look of profound shock upon his face. Eloise gave him no time to ask questions.

‘Your master has been wounded, Farrell. Pray run downstairs
and fetch hot water and bandages while we get him into bed. Immediately, if you please.’

The valet dashed away. Jack carried Mortimer to the bed and laid him upon the patterned bedcover.

‘You command and Farrell obeys.’

She did not look at him, but threw aside her cloak and made her way around the room, lighting every candle.

‘Alex and I have been acquainted since childhood. Farrell knows I am a friend.’

But how good a friend?

Jack dared not ask the question, afraid he might not like the answer. He stripped off his coat and turned his attention back to the unconscious man lying on the bed. Eloise came up to stand beside him, her hands clasped as if in prayer.

‘Can you bind him up?’

‘You need not look so anxious, madam. I dealt with much worse than this in the army. These are two clean cuts: there is no reason that they should not heal perfectly well. Help me get him out of his clothes.’

Sensing her hesitation, he glanced down at her, his brows raised. She swallowed and nodded.

‘Of course.’

Silently they set to work. Eloise was already unbuttoning the coat and waistcoat so Jack pulled off Alex’s boots and began to unfasten his pantaloons. By the time Farrell returned with a jug of hot water and an armful of clean linen, the bed had been stripped back to its bottom sheet and Mortimer was lying naked in the centre.

Farrell took one horrified look at the bloodied body of his master and turned an anguished glance towards Eloise.

‘Madam, you should not—’

‘Enough, Farrell!’ she interrupted him swiftly and bent a frowning look upon the valet. ‘We can involve no one else
in this,’ she said crisply. ‘Major, what do you want me to do next?’

‘Keep the pad pressed to that hole in his shoulder,’ he told her. ‘I’ll deal with the cut on his leg first.’

He was pleased at the way she responded. No tears or vapours and with her hands shaking only a little she folded a pad of clean pad and held it against the wound. ‘Very good,’ he murmured, giving her the glimmer of a smile. ‘We’ll make a soldier of you yet, madam.’

They worked quietly together, Farrell tearing the linen into bandages while Jack cleaned and bound up the cut on Alex’s thigh.

‘Should we not call a doctor?’ suggested Farrell. ‘Perhaps we should bleed him.’

‘After all the blood he has already lost?’ Jack shook his head. ‘No. The slash on his thigh looks bad but it is not that deep. I am hopeful that with rest the leg will be as good as new, except for a scar.’

‘And the shoulder?’ asked Eloise. ‘It is not bleeding so very much now.’

She was still pressing one white hand to the wound; the other was tenderly brushing Alex’s fair hair from his brow. A memory slammed into Jack. He recalled how she had brushed his hair from his eyes when they had been alone together in the shepherd’s hut. Just before he had overpowered her, grabbing those slim white wrists and turning her until she was trapped beneath him. How those blue eyes had glared up at him, her breast heaving with indignation, her soft mouth so close to his, just asking to be kissed. His body stirred at the very thought of it. He dragged his eyes and his mind away from her and back to Alex Mortimer.

‘He may find it painful to use his arm for a few days, but that should soon pass.’

Some of the anxiety left her face.

‘Perhaps a little laudanum would help,’ she suggested.

‘Yes, if there is some in the house. He will be in pain when he wakes up.’

She nodded.

‘The housekeeper will have some. Farrell must fetch it. Of the three of us, it will cause less comment if he is seen abroad at this time of night.’

‘I’ll go at once, my lady.’

‘But you will tell no one that Lady Allyngham is here,’ ordered Jack. ‘You had best tell the housekeeper that Mr Mortimer was attacked in the woods. By poachers.’

The valet slipped out of the room and a silence descended. Jack tied the final knot around Alex’s thigh.

She said quietly, ‘Thank you, Major Clifton.’

‘For what?’

‘For coming to our aid. For being here.’

Jack nodded. He poured water on to a fresh cloth and began to wipe the blood from Alex’s shoulder.

‘I assume it is Deforge who is threatening you?’

‘Yes. He sent me a note to meet him tonight. Alex came with me, for protection.’ She looked up. ‘But what were you doing there?’

‘I followed Deforge.’ He observed her look of surprise and shrugged. ‘I have my own reasons for hating the man. And I saw the way he looked at you tonight. I thought he might be dangerous, so I had my man watch him. When he told me Sir Ronald had slipped out of the house I went after him. I saw you go into the temple and guessed he had sent for you, but it was not until I realised Mortimer was hiding in the woods that I was sure. What did he want this time?’

She hesitated, as if debating with herself how much to tell him.

‘More money. Alex was angry and thought he could stop him.’ She gave a little sob. ‘It almost cost him his life. If you had not been there…’

‘I should have run Deforge through with his own sword-stick!’ muttered Jack savagely.

‘Then all would have been lost. He—he says he has left the journal with his lawyer, with instructions to publish if anything happens to him.’

‘Very clever.’ Jack gave a little huff of frustration. ‘And you plan to settle with him?’

‘The alternative is to have the Allyngham name disgraced. Our private affairs would be discussed in every coffee house, reported in the newspapers for everyone to read, even lampooned like the Prince Regent! No, I will not risk that.’

‘So you will allow a man like Deforge to impose upon you.’

‘While he has the journal, yes. I see from your frown that you do not approve, Major.’

‘No. It galls me to see you under any obligation to that man.’

She took the bloodstained cloth from his hand and handed him a clean one.

‘You said you hate Sir Ronald. Will you tell me why?’

Jack’s jaw set hard: she dared to ask, yet she refused to tell him her own secrets! He said lightly, ‘Would you have me bare my soul to you, lady?’

His barb went wide. She merely met his mocking glance with a gentle smile.

‘They say confession is good for the soul, Major. I feel there is some great bitterness in you when you think of Deforge, as if he has done you a great wrong. It cannot be good for you to keep such a thing to yourself.’

Jack did not reply immediately. At last he shrugged.

‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said at last. ‘I will share it, since Deforge is our common enemy.’ He placed a clean wad of cloth against the wound in Alex’s shoulder and concentrated on strapping it into place with the bandages. ‘It goes back a long time—five years or more—and concerns Lady Deforge.’

‘His wife? She died three years ago, did she not?’

‘Deforge killed her.’

Eloise gasped.

‘Do you have evidence for that?’

‘I do not, but knowing the man, and the lady, I believe it to be true. Oh, I know he was not at Redlands at the time of her death, but if he did not actually commit the deed I believe he drove her to it. Clara and I were childhood friends—more than friends, I thought. I believed she loved me as I loved her. True, she was a little wilful, but who could wonder at it if her parents spoiled her, for she was such a beautiful, delightful girl. Her father was against our marrying. I thought at the time it was because we were so young. She was her father’s only child and I was a lowly captain, but later…’ He paused, conscious that in his anger he was pulling the binding far too tight about Alex’s shoulder.

Eloise reached across him and gently took the bandage from his hand.

‘Here, let me.’

He watched her for a moment, part of his mind noting how deftly she readjusted the dressing. He walked to the fireplace and stared down at the hearth.

‘Five years ago Clara’s father died and I came home thinking that there would be no impediment now to our marriage, but when I arrived in London I found she was already betrothed. To Sir Ronald Deforge.’ The story had been locked inside him for years, but now he had started he knew he must finish it. He said, ‘I think, I believe, that when I first joined
the army she intended to wait for me. We had agreed that there was no possibility of our marriage until I had achieved some promotion and could afford to keep a wife. She was far too good, too innocent to deliberately mislead me. When her father died she became the target of any number of men looking for a wife, and I suppose I was just too far away.’ He shrugged. ‘By the time I returned to London Clara had been swept off her feet by Sir Ronald. He was a wealthy, fashionable man of the town; by comparison I must have seemed a very callow youth of four-and-twenty, and how could I compete with a baronetcy? When I met her in London she seemed very happy with her choice.’ His face darkened. ‘I knew nothing of Deforge, save that he was a gambler, and that is a common enough trait. So I wished her well and went back to the Peninsula, where I tried to forget her.’ He exhaled slowly. ‘Wine, women and war—I survived them all. I fared better than my poor Clara. Two years later she was dead, drowned in the lake at Redlands, her family home. There was talk that she was not happy, that Deforge had married her only for her fortune. I do not know, but I can well believe it. After that one meeting in London I never heard from her again.’

‘It is common knowledge that Sir Ronald’s wife died soon after giving birth to a stillborn son,’ said Eloise slowly. ‘If the poor woman was unhappy, that would be cause enough, I think.’

‘Of course, but I cannot believe he ever really cared for her. What I do know is that when Deforge married Clara he had already run through his own fortune and within two years most of Clara’s money was gone. Since her death he has been selling off his properties and is almost at a stand. I have no doubt he is now looking for another rich wife.’

Eloise thought of her meetings with Sir Ronald Deforge and a cold chill ran through her. He was a cruel man: he would
certainly publish the journal if she refused to marry him, but if she gave herself into his power, what then? Would he make her life so miserable that she would be willing to end it? She looked down at her shaking hands.

‘Perhaps you could finish binding up Alex’s shoulder,’ she said, moving aside.

Jack returned to the bedside and she watched his strong, capable fingers take up the bandage. She screwed up her courage. It would be better to tell Jack Clifton the whole truth, to let him deal with Deforge. Even as she searched for the words to begin, the valet returned and the opportunity was lost.

Jack tied the final knot in the bandage around Alex’s shoulder and straightened, easing his tense shoulders. ‘There,’ he said. ‘I have finished.’

He wiped his hands on a cloth and dropped it on to the pile of bloodied rags on the floor.

‘You may leave him to me now, Major.’ Farrell tenderly pulled the covers over his master. ‘I will clear up here and watch him until morning. I was obliged to explain to the housekeeper why I needed to disturb her, so I did as you suggested and told her my master had been attacked by poachers. I took the liberty of saying that it was you who found Mr Mortimer in the gardens and brought him upstairs, Major. No one need know of Lady Allyngham’s part in any of this.’

‘Thank you, Farrell.’ Jack looked at Eloise, who was hovering beside the bed.

‘I think it is time you returned to your own room, madam. Come, I will escort you.’