Gallant Waif (27 page)

At his words an awkward hush fell over the room.

“Oh, God, Jack, I’m a clumsy oaf! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Just shut up, Tubby!” hissed Andrew Lennox. “You’ve said quite enough.”

“I didn’t mean…” Sir Toby trailed off miserably. There was a short silence.

“There’s no need to treat me with kid gloves, you know,” said Jack. “In fact, you don’t need to feel sorry for me at all.”

Colonel Masterton leaned forward into the light and stared hard at his friend. “So…” he said on a long note of discovery.

Jack grinned.”You always were as sharp as a razor, Francis.” He found his hand seized and wrung in a powerful grip. The other two stared in bewilderment.

“What the devil are you two talking about?” said Andrew Lennox. “I can only think of one thing…” He stared hard at Jack, read the truth in his eyes,
then
he too leapt forward and seized Jack’s hand, pumping it fervently.

“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” complained Sir Toby. “Why is everybody shaking Jack’s hand and what
are
you all being so damned mysterious about? Found an heiress, Jack, have you?”

The others laughed.

“Well, I’d planned to keep it as a surprise for tomorrow, Tubby, but I can ride again. Of course I’m not quite up to hunting yet, but I will be soon.”

Sir Toby stared, dumbfounded, for a moment,
then
leapt from his chair, spilling his drink, and seized Jack’s hand, shaking it until Jack thought it would drop off.

‘“S marvellous, old man, simply marvellous!” he kept repeating. He glared round at his two friends still seated in their respective chairs. “Don’t you un’erstand, you two idiots? Jack can ride! Ain’t you going to congratulate him?”

The others roared with laughter. When the tumult had died down and a fresh round of drinks had been poured, Francis said to Jack, “I don’t understand. The surgeons swore you’d never ride again, didn’t they?”

“They did. Miss Farleigh disagreed.”

“Miss Farleigh?” said Mr Lennox.

In the next room, Kate froze. Oh, no, no, she prayed silently. Do not tell them; please do not.

“Yes, her brother had been cured of a similar sort of injury by some Eastern doctor,” continued Jack. “She told me her brother regained almost full
strength.
. . unfortunately.”

“What?”

Jack explained. “Miss Farleigh lost her father and both her brothers in the war. Her brothers were in the 83rd, I believe. She is now utterly alone in the world, except for my grandmother, who has become her guardian.”

Kate sagged in her seat.
The 83rd.
She could not have been more clearly identified. If any of them had heard anything of her, their memories would be well and truly jogged now.

“Yes, that’s one point that I must confess quite eludes me. Do, pray, explain, dear boy. I know a little of Miss Farleigh’s story…”

Kate leapt from her chair. She stole to the door and leaned against it, breathless with fear. The Colonel
did
know her. He would tell Jack everything. Kate chewed her lip worriedly. She would have to leave. She couldn’t bear to see Jack’s face when he knew.

“Knew her brothers and met her father on several occasions. In Spain, you understand. And I have met Miss Farleigh once before, though she looked a little different then…
But your grandmother’s ward?
I never heard that you were related to Farleighs, Jack.”

“We’re not, of course. No blood relation at all as far as I know. She—my grandmother, I mean—was Miss Farleigh’s mother’s godmother.”

“Ah,” murmured Francis ironically. “A close family connection, I see.”

Oh, for goodness’ sake, get on with it!
thought
Kate. The tension was killing her.

Jack shrugged ruefully. “Well, you all know my grandmother—if she decides the connection is a close one then neither mortal man nor woman, can shift her.”

“No, indeed,” agreed Andrew. “Nor the immortals, I’d wager.”

Sir Toby interrupted. “I don’t understand what your grandmother’s got to do with this, Jack. Terrifying old woman! Treats me like a scrubby schoolboy every time I have the misfortune to run into her. As far as I’m concerned, the further she stays out of everything the better.” He paused a moment, then said with deepening suspicion, “I say! She’s not here, is she? Lurkin’ upstairs somewhere?”

Kate could have screamed with frustration.

“Oh, shut up, Tubby, you fool!” chuckled Andrew good-naturedly. “Let Jack finish his story. The oriental doctor, Jack,” he prompted.

“Well, as I said,”
continued
Jack, “Miss Farleigh’s brother regained full use of his limb, and she told me about it, though, like the fool I was, I wouldn’t listen to her… Damn near bit her head off for trying.”

“I can well imagine,” said Sir Toby frankly. “And, what’s more, you can be devilish unpleasant to be around when you’re like that, Jack; take my word for it.
Wouldn’t have come uninvited like this, except Francis made me.
Expected to see you snarling round the place like a bad-tempered wolf.
Had to stop for a few quick ones on the way.
Wasn’t going to tackle you sober! So what’d she do?
Whisper sweet nothings, eh?”

Kate clenched her fists.

Jack chuckled. “On the contrary, she told me that if I wanted to spend the rest of my life being a cripple and falling off horses, to go right ahead doing what I was doing!”

“She didn’t?” gasped Sir Toby.

“She did. Told me to my head I was wallowing in self-pity, too.”

“Good God!” said Francis.

“You didn’t hit her, did you, Jack?” said Sir Toby.

“Oh, don’t be so stupid, Tubby,” said Andrew.

“No, Tubby, but she certainly got blasted for her efforts, as I expect you can imagine. But the words stuck in my mind and finally bored their way into what was left of my sanity. So I eventually swallowed my pride, sought her assistance, and to cut a long story short I can ride. It’s not a pretty sight, but nevertheless I stay on. I’ve not ridden to hounds yet, but it won’t be long before I’m up to it. So, Tubby, old fellow, you were quite right after all; I am a lucky man—thanks to Miss Farleigh.”

Kate relaxed briefly against the wall.
Tears ghmmered in her eyes.
She’d given him something good to remember her by, at least. When he knew the truth, perhaps his condemnation would be tempered by the memory of her help with his leg.

The men in the next room fell silent for a
while,
only the occasional clink of a glass or the crackling of the fire could be heard. Then Andrew Lennox spoke, and at his words tension raced through Kate once more.

“You said you’d met Miss Farleigh before, Francis?”

“Indeed, I have,” he affirmed. “Though it took me a moment or two to place where I’d first seen her.”

“Where was it?” enquired Andrew.

Kate closed her eyes and held her breath.

“At the final siege of Badajoz,” the Colonel announced coolly.

Kate’s eyes flew open.
Badajoz?

“Badajoz? You cannot be serious! Explain
yourself
, Francis,” demanded Andrew.

“Do you mean to say that that chit was at Badajoz?” spluttered Sir Toby in amazement. “Not possible, is it? I mean, no women at Badajoz…well…I mean women, yes… that was part of the prob…but not
ladies.
. .er…you know what I mean.”

“Indeed there was, Toby, one undoubted lady at least, for which my aunt Charlotte will be eternally grateful,” said Francis.

There was a short stunned silence.

“Your aunt Charlotte?
Gammon!” snorted Sir Toby. “Can’t tell me your aunt Charlotte was at Badajoz, for I won’t believe it. Stuffiest woman in the world, your aunt!
Never been out of the country.
Hardly ever been out of London.
I’d wager my best hunter on it.”

Francis chuckled softly. “True, old chap, but whom, above all others, does my aunt value in this world?”

After a short pause Andrew said, “Er, your cousin Arnold?”

“Exactly—my cousin Arnold,” agreed Francis.

“What the devil are you talking about?” demanded Sir Toby. “I don’t understand why we’re talking about everyone’s dratted relatives. It was bad enough with Jack’s grandmother, but now you must rabbit on about your aunt and your cousin Arnold. I was glad to see the back of him after Badajoz, and I damned well don’t ever want to see or talk—”

“What happened to Arnold at Badajoz, Toby?” interrupted Francis sweetly.

“Got shot or wounded in some damned way or other and lost his wits and blethered on and on and on about an angel saving him, or some such nonsense.”

Jack exclaimed aloud at this.

“Quite true, old chap,” explained Sir Toby.
“Drove us all batty with his tales of his angel.
By the time he was sent home I for one was ready to finish the work that some damned-fool Frog had obviously botched.”

“Tubby, old son,” said Francis, “that was no angel—that was Jack’s Miss Farleigh.”

Kate’s knees almost gave way.

“What?” The exclamation came from three throats in unison.

“Quite true.
Miss Farleigh was over there with her father and made it her practice to venture in, often quite close to the fighting, and tend the wounded.
Came across Cousin Arnold with a ruddy great gash in his arm that wouldn’t stop bleeding.
Tied it up so tight that the blood couldn’t get through.
Surgeon who finally got to treat him said she’d saved his life.
Would have bled to death for certain.
Touch-and-go for a while there as it was.”

Kate leaned against the door jamb, her eyes closed. That poor boy was Francis’s cousin? In the other room there was a long silence, broken only by the quiet crackling of the logs burning in the hearth.

“She told me her father had confined her to a tent for a week after Badajoz,” growled Jack furiously. “My God, when I think of the bloody atrocities…”

“I do believe he did,” said Francis.
“After he discovered her saving Arnold.”

There was another long silence.

“Gal’s a damned little heroine,” said Toby at last.

“Too true,” agreed Francis quietly. “And, from what I can make out, Arnold was only one of many she saved.”

In the next room Kate sank silently on to the chair. She felt dizzy with relief. Francis did not know the rest of her story—she was safe for a time. She had been so
frightened.
. . but he thought her a heroine! She did not need to hear any more. A
heroine
—he wouldn’t say that if he knew about Henri. The relief was overwhelming. She was exhausted. Silently she slipped from the room and went upstairs to bed.

“Arnold’s angel, you say? Good Gad!” mumbled Sir Toby. “Not the sort of thing one expects a lady
to.
. .to…”

“No, indeed,” agreed Andrew warmly. “Most ladies would faint dead away if we even told them one-tenth of the things that could happen in war, let alone…” His voice died away as all four men stared into the fire, recalling how the blood-crazed troops had gone mad after the long siege and storming of Badajoz.
The raping, the plundering, the pillaging.
It was horrific to imagine Kate in the midst of it all.

After a few moments Andrew raised his voice in a rallying tone.

“And why are we sitting here brooding in such a melancholy fashion? We’re all here, alive and well, drinking this excellent port, reunited at last.
And Jack, back from the dead, with the best of all possible news.”

“Yes, by Gad!” said Sir Toby. He raised his glass. “Here’s to Mad Jack and the Hunt! Back together at last!”

“Yes, indeed,” agreed Francis. “Jack and the Hunt, let’s drink to it!”

“And to Miss Farleigh,” said Jack quietly, raising his glass. With one accord the others rose to their feet and drank the toast.

“To Miss Farleigh.”