Fenella J Miller (22 page)

Chapter Twenty-three

The stable yard was empty when
Penny arrived the following morning. She had been unable to sleep and had
dressed in the riding habit Mary had left out for her and slipped quietly
through the house and let herself out of the side door. She shivered in the
early morning chill, not content until she had checked Bruno was safely in his
stable.

The loose box doors were still
shut and she could hear the horses moving restlessly inside. They seemed as
eager as she to start their morning. Knowing that the stallion was in the third
box, she picked her way across the damp cobbles and pressed her ear to the
door. She stepped back, smiling happily, Bruno was inside.

‘
Mornin
’,
Miss Coombs, you’re bright and early today. Shall I saddle up Phoenix for you?’
The sleepy stable boy doffed his cap. Penny was already a firm favourite in the
yard.

‘Thank you, I apologize for being
so early, but I couldn’t sleep and thought a ride was exactly what I needed.’

By the time she was mounted and
ready to leave there was movement above the stables where the grooms and stable
boys were accommodated. This morning she didn’t need to wait for anyone to
accompany her; the danger was over. For the first time since she’d arrived she
was free to go where ever she wished without fear of being ambushed.

‘In case anyone asks in which
direction I’m riding, could you tell them I’m going through Home Wood and back
round the ornamental lake.’

Not waiting for an answer, she
trotted out of the yard and down the track that led to the woods. When she
returned two hours later the stables were a hive of activity. Billy was waiting
for her, a serious expression on his face. What could be the matter? Surely all
those involved in last night’s activity should be as happy as she was that
everything was over?

Reining in beside him, she waited
for him to assist her to dismount. ‘Miss Coombs, Simpson has been searching for
you. His lordship has taken a turn for the worse and is calling for you.’

Ned had been perfectly fit last
night. For a second the import of the information failed to register. Then she
understood what he was trying to tell her; Ned had been injured during the
night. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

‘I shall be there directly,
Billy. Nobody else is unwell, I take it?’

‘The count was taken poorly last
night and is now with friends. He’s expected to make a full recovery.’

What the other grooms made of
this conversation she’d no idea, but it made perfect sense to them. Both Ned
and the count had been injured during the attack. The count, it would appear,
was now in captivity and would make a full recovery. As she ran along the brick
path to the side door she prayed Ned was not too badly hurt.

She paused at the bottom of the
stairs undecided whether to race up and change or go immediately his apartment.
The sun was already warm, her habit too heavy and cumbersome for wearing in
doors. Deciding it would be wise to change she arrived pell-mell in her bed
chamber causing Mary to drop the laundry she was carrying.

‘Lord Weston is very poorly this
morning and I must change immediately and go down to see him. Is my bath
ready?’

The woman nodded. ‘It is, miss.
Here, let me help you undress. I have your day dress ready.’

 
Less than fifteen minutes later Penny was on her
way downstairs simply dressed in a forget-me-not blue muslin gown. She hurried
past Foster who was hovering at the bottom of the stairs obviously wishing to
way lay her.

‘I’m
sorry,
I cannot speak to you now. I am urgently required in Lord Weston’s apartments.
If it is a query about the garden party to be held in four days’ time, kindly
speak to either Lady
Dalrymple
or Mrs Weston.’

She arrived breathless at the
door, pausing for a moment before knocking.

‘Miss Coombs,
at last.’
The valet stepped to one side, indicating she should come in.
Once the door was firmly closed behind her he continued. ‘Lord Weston was shot
in the shoulder last night. The bullet passed through, but he lost too much
blood before they managed to get him home. He has now developed a morbid fever.
He has been calling for you in his delirium.’

‘You should have sent for me
right away. I should never have gone out riding this morning if I’d known he
was injured.’ She walked straight through the drawing-room and into Ned’s
bedchamber.

The shutters were drawn but the
bed hangings were not and she saw him lying in the bed. Her stomach contracted.
He was pale apart from the bright flush of fever across his cheeks. He was
tossing his head from side to side and mumbling incoherently.

She ran to his side and, pulling
up a nearby stool, sat down, taking his limp hand in hers.

‘Ned, darling, I’m here now. I’ll
take care of you.’ His hands were burning. She needed to cool him down. ‘Have
you been sponging him with tepid water? We need to reduce his fever and our
doctor swears it’s the only way. Blood-letting and leaches only make things
worse.’

‘I’ll fetch a basin and cloths
directly, Miss Coombs. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself; makes a
lot more sense than taking more blood from someone who has already lost as much
as his lordship.’

For the next few hours Penny and
Simpson took it in turns to sponge him down with cool water. He continued to
talk nonsense; the only recognizable words were her name which he repeated
constantly. She murmured soothingly all the time she was working at his side
and her voice eventually calmed him.

By evening he was showing
definite signs of improvement and she thought it would be safe to leave him
with Simpson whilst she went to speak to her aunt who had chosen to have the
tray sent up to her rooms.

‘My dear, how is Lord Weston? We
have all been so worried. Mr Weston told us his cousin is not normally so
poorly.’

Penny flopped down beside her
aunt on the day bed. ‘Ned’s fever is abating; I would not have left him
otherwise.’ She viewed the supper tray, standing on an octagonal side table,
with interest. ‘Have you finished with this, Aunt Lucy? I’m famished - I
haven’t eaten anything today.’

‘Cook sent up enough to feed four
people. Please help yourself, there’s plenty there for you. I can highly
recommend the rabbit pasty and the apple pie.’

‘That was delicious. I have eaten
most of it; Cook will think you have a prodigious appetite, Aunt Lucy, and send
your even more next time.’ Penny pushed the tray to one side and stood up. ‘I
feel much better now, but I’m afraid I must return to the sick room, poor
Simpson has had no supper either.’

‘I hope you will not spend much
longer nursing Lord Weston, my dear. Remember it is the garden party the day
after tomorrow and you need to look your best.’

She shook the crumbs from her
skirt, smiling at her aunt as she did so. ‘Don’t remind me! After that it’s the
ball, and then it will be our wedding day. I’m relying on you and Mrs Weston to
have matters in hand.’

‘Indeed we do! We have jugglers,
fire eaters, stilt walkers, as well as the balloon ascents and the fireworks.
The garden party will be delightful. Mr Weston is organizing the firework
display,
I believe he has knowledge of such matters.’

‘I can’t wait.
It’s
years since I attended such a function and I can’t remember ever seeing
fireworks at a private house before. What about the ball? Have we had all the
replies in yet?’

‘Of course.
Lord Weston’s family are arriving over the next two days so that they may
attend all the festivities connected with your wedding. Headingly Court will be
bursting at the seams by the time everyone is here.’

‘It’s a pity we have no relatives
to invite. Our side of the church is going to look decidedly empty.’

‘Penny, my dear girl, I have already
thought of that. I sent invitations to all our friends in
Nettleford
.
They shall not need to stay overnight, of course, but they will be here to
support you and attend the wedding breakfast.’

Penny leant down and kissed her
aunt. ‘I knew I could rely on you. Thank you so much. Please forgive me, I must
hurry back, but hopefully I’ll see you with good news tomorrow morning.’

‘There is no need to thank me,
dear child, it is my absolute pleasure. I have not felt so animated for years.
Now run along and take care of your young man.’

Around midnight Ned’s fever
finally broke and his eyes opened. The room was dark as only a few candles were
burning. For a moment he was disorientated and had no idea where he was or why
he was in bed. Slowly the events of the previous night filtered back. He had
been shot by the Frenchmen in the dinghy.

‘Simpson, I need a drink.’ The
shadowy figure standing by the window gazing out across the moonlit park
turned. He frowned. What the devil was Penny doing in his chambers in the
middle of the night?

‘Please, don’t look so cross, my
dear. I’m sure I’m quite capable of fetching you a drink of lemonade.’

 
She walked across to a side table and the
welcome sound of liquid tipping into a glass filled the room. ‘Why are you
here? Simpson should be taking care of me.’ He sounded ungracious, but couldn’t
help himself.

She came to his side and
supported his head whilst he drank. Dammit! He was as feeble as a kitten. ‘How
long have I been lying here? Has there been a message from Andover or
Carstairs?’

‘So many questions; I shall
answer them in turn. I’m here because you’ve been very ill and Simpson asked me
to help him nurse you. He’s now resting, but will relieve me very shortly.’ She
sat down beside him. ‘You’ve been in bed for twenty-four hours and as far as I
know there have been no messages from anyone.’

He closed his eyes letting the
information sink in. ‘Am I well, now?’

Her chuckle made his eyes fly
open. ‘I believe you’re the best judge of that, my love. I can tell you that
your fever has broken and you’ve no putrefaction in your wound. I expect in two
or three days you’ll be able to get up and no one will be any the wiser.’

His lips curved and he reached
out to take her hand. ‘It’s over, sweetheart. All the traitors are dead apart
from Everex, who at this very moment is being interrogated by someone in
London. It’s from there that I’m expecting a message to tell me what they
discovered.’

He ran his thumb slowly over her
hand, loving the smoothness. ‘We can relax and enjoy the next few days. I
promise I shall be up and about in good time to share in the festivities.’

‘I realized everything was back
to normal when Billy told me what happened. I’ve already ridden without an
escort. I cannot tell you how wonderful it feels not to be looking over one’s
shoulder all the time.’

Holding her was beginning to
produce a restless feeling which he recognized only too well, and he was almost
relieved when she gently disengaged her hand and returned it to her lap.

‘You’re
obviously feeling a lot better, my love, and I rather think it’s time I found
Simpson.’

‘Do that – and the sooner the
better.’ He shifted uncomfortably and scowled as she grinned at him obviously
understanding the reason for his discomfort.

‘I shall go and call him. Are you
sure you wouldn’t like me to assist you? Perhaps if you cannot manage I could
fetch you a suitable receptacle?’

‘Go away! Is a man to have no
privacy?’

He could hear her talking softly
to Simpson in the dressing room and to his astonishment he heard his dour manservant
actually laughing. A wave of pleasure swept through him. Already his staff
loved her and she was going to turn his house into a home. He was counting the
minutes until she became the next Countess of Rushford.

Penny slept late the next
morning. The hour was after ten o’clock when she opened her eyes to find her
room sprinkled with dappled sunlight. Mary had left the shutters closed but the
heavy curtains had been drawn back. For once in her life she refused to feel
guilty for not getting up with the lark as her father had taught her.

She stretched luxuriously
revelling in the unaccustomed feeling of being in bed so late in the day. She
smiled as she remembered her time in London when society dictated that no lady
appeared before noon and afternoon visits were known as morning calls. She had
always got up before seven thirty, whatever time she’d found her bed the
previous night.

Today she felt indolent; totally
content. Ned was out of danger and so was she. She sighed happily and reached
out to ring the little brass bell that stood on the bedside table. Mary
appeared a few moments later looking equally pleased with life.

‘Good morning, Miss Coombs, we’re
ever so pleased Lord Weston has made a complete recovery from his fever. Mr
Foster and Brown were considering cancelling the garden party.’

‘That would be a shame as I know
how much you’re all looking forward to it downstairs. However, I doubt if his
lordship will be well enough to attend in person. It’s important he makes a
complete recovery before the ball and imperative that he’s fully fit when we
get married the following day.’

Penny was dressed in a becoming
jonquil day dress, perfectly set off by a sash of gold and a row of topaz
buttons that ran down the closely fitting bodice. She decided it would be safe
to wear the matching slippers as she would have no time to spend gallivanting
in the garden.

After visiting Ned she must greet
the many guests, including his two sisters and their families that were
arriving during the day. He was out of bed, sitting palely in an upright
armchair in his parlour room. His smile sent her pulses racing. She ran across
and dropped to her knees by his side.