Most Rebellious Debutante (6 page)

Arabella stared at him wide-eyed. ‘Don’t tell such lies!’
she shouted, adding with bravado, ‘But I’m not scared, so there!’

‘Yes, you are, ’cos all girls are scared, aren’t they, Aunt Lucy?’

‘Not always,’ Lucy countered. ‘And I am not so sure you should be trespassing on Lord Rockhaven’s land, especially if he has rented out his gamekeeper’s cottage to someone else. But stop this squabbling, or else there’ll be no paddling in the stream. Come on, let’s see who can find the most flowers.’

With the incentive of competition, the two children were happily occupied for some time, plucking specimens from the ground and clutching them in their hot hands. When their interest waned, Lucy allowed them to splash in the nearby stream. They took off their shoes and stockings and scrambled down the sloping bank into the cool water and screamed with delight when Wellington joined them, barking and leaping and soaking the skirt of Lucy’s frock as she sat on the bank with her bare feet dipped into the cool water.

‘Take that dog somewhere else!’ she commanded Bertie, jumping to her feet and shaking out her skirt. ‘Let him chase rabbits or something, though I doubt he will catch any with his daft antics and all that noise. They’ll be safe in their burrows before he even has scent of them.’

Bertie was happy to oblige, leaving Lucy and Arabella to enjoy the stream in a more sedate manner. It was only when Lucy became aware of the distant sound of dogs barking that she realized that Bertie had been absent for quite some time and deduced, quite accurately, that the cacophony of sounds was linked to her nephew and his dog.

‘What is he up to, now?’ she exclaimed. ‘Come on, Arabella. We had better find him. Give me your stockings and just slip your feet into your shoes.’

Following the sound of the dogs, they hurried through the wood until they reached the fence that bordered their land. There was no sign of Wellington, but the frenzied barking continued ahead. With an exasperated sigh, Lucy lifted up her skirt and climbed the fence, giving a hand to Arabella. They hurried on. Lucy knew where they were going. She had played truant in these grounds herself when she had visited her sister in her younger days and had been bold enough to spy upon the gamekeeper at his work and peep through the windows of his small abode when he was busy elsewhere.

They came to a rough track that soon opened into a clearing. Here was the Montcliffe Hall gamekeeper’s stone cottage. It had an air of neglect but was obviously being occupied as wisps of smoke were coming out of the chimney and drifting away amongst the trees. The dogs were barking around the back where, if Lucy remembered correctly, the previous gamekeeper had his kennels and a variety of outbuildings.

She hurried round the side of the dwelling to see Bertie trying to pull Wellington away from a large dish of some kind of meat which had been placed just within the open rear doorway of the cottage. Two other dogs were straining at their chains, howling their indignation at the evident theft that was taking place before them.

‘Leave it, Wellington!’ Bertie was shouting, pulling at hiscollar.

‘Hey! What’s going on?’ a male voice shouted harshly.

From round the corner of one of the outbuildings came a man seated in a chair on wheels, just as Bertie had earlier mentioned. The man was propelling himself awkwardly along by the use of a pitchfork, its wooden handle pointing downwards. He was dressed in clothes similar to those of a gamekeeper, which might have supported his guise if Lucy hadn’t known otherwise.

In spite of his disfigured face and the leather patch he wore over his left eye, Lucy knew that the ‘old’ man of Bertie’s tale was none other than Theodore Lord Rockhaven, the Earl of Montcliffe!

E
VEN AS SHE
recognized him, the man began to propel himself closer to the wide-eyed group but, to Lucy’s dismay, the wheels of his roughly adapted chair hit the uneven edge of one of the cobblestones that formed the yard and the chair keeled over, tipping its occupant
unceremoniously
on to the hard ground.

‘Oh, no!’ Lucy gasped, picking up the hem of her skirt and running forward. The fallen man let out a thunderous oath and Arabella began to cry. Lucy turned back and drew the child close to her for an instant. ‘Now, stop crying, Arabella. You are in no danger. He isn’t angry at
you
. Bertie, attend to your sister and then get Wellington away from that bowl before he wolfs the lot!’

Letting go of Arabella, she ran to where Lord Rockhaven lay in an undignified sprawl and dropped down to crouch beside him. A spasm of pain crossed his face as he tried to raise himself up on his elbows.

‘You are hurt, m’lord,’ Lucy said needlessly. ‘Can I help you to get up? Let me right your chair.’ She rose to her feet and took hold of one of the handles of the fallen chair. ‘Bertie, come and hold it steady whilst I help L—’

‘Do … not … even … touch … me, woman!’ Lord
Rockhaven snarled, each word enunciated separately, his lips drawn back in pain.

Lucy stepped back a pace, startled by his tone.

‘But I must help you! I feel we were somewhat
responsible
for your fall.’

‘Only
somewhat?
I would have said
totally
!’ he snapped. ‘And, yes, I am angry at you. You are trespassing, and allowing that mongrel to steal my dogs’ food! Kindly take control of your charges and return to wherever it is you have come from.’

‘Our offence was unintentional, so there is no need to be quite so churlish!’ Lucy couldn’t help snapping in return. ‘Maybe if I can make you more comfortable, your temper will improve.’

‘There is nothing wrong with my temper that your
withdrawal
will not put right. So, do as I say and be gone! And take this mongrel with you,’ he said, pushing Wellington away from his attempts to lick his face.

Arabella burst into a fresh flow of tears and Lucy hovered uncertainly. In all honesty, she wished she could just leave him. It was what he deserved, the ungrateful man. But, how could she? He might be in a foul temper, but she supposed that was only to be expected, under the circumstances. Men didn’t, as a rule, like to be seen to be at a disadvantage, did they? And this man was a mere shadow of his former self. ‘I was only going to—’

‘Damn you, woman! Do you not understand plain English? I do not wish for your help. Get those screaming children and your mangy dog off my property and leave me to get myself upright again.’

Unaccustomed to such harsh words, Lucy felt her cheeks
flushing, but her sense of compassion would not allow her to leave an injured man unattended in such circumstances, even if his current behaviour merited no kindness.

She gripped her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I cannot do that,’ she said firmly but quietly, ‘but I know I cannot lift you either. Where is your…?’ She hesitated to say ‘servant’ in case that was not the case. ‘Is there not someone else living here with you? Another man? Where is he? He would be able to help to lift you.’

‘You seem to know a lot about my living arrangements,’ Lord Rockhaven snapped. His one visible eye narrowed with suspicion. ‘Have you been spying on us? I sensed there was someone.’

‘That … that was me, sir,’ said Bertie, a little fearfully, hauling at the rope he had refastened to his dog’s collar. ‘And it wasn’t me who was screaming. That was my sister. She can’t help it, she’s a girl.’

For a fleeting second, a glint of humour shone in Lord Rockhaven’s eye but just as swiftly it was gone.

‘You’re trespassing,’ he accused. ‘Trespassers can be imprisoned … or even hanged!’ He gritted his teeth against the pain in his hip. ‘In the army, you’d be shot.’

Bertie looked crestfallen. ‘Oh! I didn’t know that. Wellington and I were playing at being scouts for the army and I saw you arrive in your cart. I’m trying to train Wellington to be a tracker dog. He seems to have a good nose for scenting things.’

‘Huh! A good nose for food, no doubt,’ Lord Rockhaven countered, wincing as another tremor of pain ran through him.

Bertie was oblivious to the sarcasm in Lord Rockhaven’s
voice. He glanced back at the bowl of meat. ‘Is it rabbit stew? It’s Wellington’s favourite, you know.’ He looked intently at the man on the ground. ‘Are you a pirate, sir? I think you must be, for you look fierce enough. What’s the matter with your legs? Is one a wooden peg-leg?’

Lucy had listened in amazement to this exchange. It seemed Lord Rockhaven might have a spark of humanity in him after all, but the last personal question might well be a question too far! ‘Quiet, Bertie! I don’t think … oh, dear!’

Lord Rockhaven had sunk back on to the yard and his eye closed. She feared he had fainted. She dropped to his side again and laid her hand upon his forehead. Instantly, her wrist was grasped by his hand, causing her to jump. Startled, she looked down at him. It was disconcerting to look into his one eye but she tried to appear unconcerned. An unbidden memory of the touch of his lips upon hers swept across her mind and she felt her mouth go dry. Unconsciously, she parted her lips and ran the moist tip of her tongue over them. His face was too close for comfort and she tried to draw back, but his grip upon her wrist didn’t allow her. Her cheeks flushed.

‘Really, sir! I think perhaps you are not as injured as you appear!’

Lord Rockhaven ground his teeth. ‘Do you, indeed? You think I would feign this undignified state? Have you no pity, woman?’

‘None where it is not needed,’ Lucy returned lightly, sensing that much of his anguish came from male pride. ‘But I do wish you would let me try to help you regain your chair.

He sighed heavily and sank back, releasing his hold on her. A shaft of pain low in his back made him close his eye again and he wondered why a faint vision of floating lemon silk seemed to dance in front of his closed lids. He opened his eye and refocused on the pretty face that hovered above him. He wondered who she was. She was too young to be the mother of the two children. Their sister, maybe? Or
nursemaid
? Did village children have nursemaids? He didn’t know and the pain that racked his body took precedence over such idle musings. The girl’s earnest concern caused him to speak more gently.

‘Look, my man will be back soon. He will see to me. Go … and take your charges with you. You have ascertained that I am still alive, even if somewhat incapacitated. You may consider your duty done.’

‘What if your man is delayed?’ Lucy asked reasonably. ‘Besides, if he is due back soon, then we may as well wait until he comes. Then at least we will know that you are once more in safe hands.’

‘The Lord preserve me from meddling females,’ Lord Rockhaven muttered, his tone not matching the piety of his words. ‘Very well, since I am to get no peace until you are satisfied that you have fulfilled your role as the Good Samaritan, go into the cottage and get my greatcoat. It is hanging on a hook behind the door. And you, boy, push that dish of rabbit stew to where my dogs can reach it and maybe they will stop that infernal din!’

Disentangling Arabella’s hold on her skirt, both Lucy and Bertie hastened to do as they were bidden, leaving Arabella standing nervously by herself, eyeing the fallen man warily, the tip of her thumb between her lips.

‘I won’t bite you, little miss,’ Lord Rockhaven was saying, as Lucy returned with the heavy army great coat.

‘Are you really a pirate?’ Arabella asked, emboldened by Lucy’s return.

‘Huh!’ Lord Rockhaven grunted. ‘I might be. Would that frighten you?’

‘No, though Bertie said it would. What’s your name?’

‘Mind your manners, Bella!’ Lucy reproved her, aware that none of them had accorded to his lordship the courtesy due to a man of his rank and title, but intuitively sensing that he preferred to remain incognito for the time being. He obviously didn’t remember
her
.

She leaned over him, beginning to lay the heavy coat over him. ‘Here, let me tuck—’ but her words were cut off by his answering Bella’s question, ‘My name’s Rocky.’

Lucy paused, her glance drawn sharply to his face, faintly blushing at the speculative gleam his single eye portrayed. ‘Isn’t that a childish name for a grown man?’ she snapped, attempting to cover her confusion.

Lord Rockhaven drew back his lips into what might have been intended as a grin but looked more like a wolf baring its teeth. ‘As a children’s nurse, you should be used to childish behaviour.’

‘I’m not—’ Lucy paused. So, he
didn’t
recognize her. That wasn’t surprising: he’d been too drunk to have been able to recognize his own face in a looking-glass! Well, if he wanted to play games of concealment, it was a game two could play. ‘I am not accustomed to childishness from adults,’ she amended her denial primly.

Lord Rockhaven shrugged as well as he was able in a prone position. ‘How else should I behave when I am as
helpless as a babe? Your two charges are more able than I.’

‘You could try feeling less sorry for yourself!’ Lucy retorted tartly, sensing that sympathy was the last thing he needed. ‘What’s happened has happened. Bemoaning the fact won’t change it.’

‘Easy to say.’

It was Lucy’s turn to shrug. ‘Yes. Your grandmother would have said to look upon it as a test of character.’ Oh! She hadn’t meant to say that!

His glance sharpened. ‘You knew my grandmother?’

‘Briefly.’ Her voice was dismissive, but Lord Rockhaven persisted.

‘Then you …’ – he glanced at Arabella, but she was now more interested in watching the dogs lapping up the rabbit stew – ‘know who I am?’

Lucy didn’t want to admit to their one meeting, just in case he
did
have faint memory of it. ‘Your family
resemblance
is well known in these parts,’ she said evading the personal question. Thankfully, it satisfied Lord Rockhaven.

‘Exactly! Then you can understand why I do not wish it to be known that I am here.’ His face twisted, though whether in actual or mental pain, Lucy wasn’t sure. ‘I have a great deal to work through. I cannot bear to do it under public gaze. I don’t want
anyone
to know I am here. Do you understand?’ He grasped her wrist again, his grip harder than he possibly realized.

Lucy winced but the intensity of his grip didn’t lessen.

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged quietly. She did understand. Even the pity that was probably evident in her own eyes
was more than likely obnoxious to him. ‘I won’t tell anyone, but the children might accidentally refer to meeting you.’

His eye held her gaze for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and sank back upon the cobblestones again, releasing his hold of her. Lucy immediately busied herself by tucking the ends of his coat under his body, twisting a sleeve into a pillow of sorts. Even in his injured state he exuded a feral power she knew little of, but she sensed a physical reaction surging through her body. She could readily believe that the rumours of his youthful exploits were based on fact. And didn’t her own brief experience of him declare the same?

Lord Rockhaven twisted his head around to see the
children
watching the dogs devour their meal.

‘Bertie, come here!’

Bertie turned at his name. ‘Can I come and feed them again, sir?’ he asked eagerly, as he ran over. ‘I like dogs. I can help you train them and exercise them.’

‘That’s not a good idea at present, but I do need your help in another matter.’

‘What sort of help?’ Bertie demanded, intrigued by the request.

‘Can you keep a secret?’

‘Of course I can!’ Bertie boasted. ‘But I bet Bella can’t. Girls are no good at secrets.’

‘Yes, I can!’ Arabella protested indignantly.

‘What is the secret, sir?’ Lucy asked, placing a restraining hand on Arabella’s shoulder.

‘It’s very important that no one knows I am here,’ he said simply, with disarming honesty.

‘Gosh! Are you in hiding?’ Bertie breathed eagerly. ‘Are you really a pirate? Have you done something bad?’

Lord Rockhaven shook his head. ‘I promise you I haven’t done anything bad. I just want to stay here for a while until I get better. I don’t want lots of
do-gooders
dropping in with their calves’ foot jellies and sympathy.’

‘Ugh!’ Bertie agreed. ‘I hate calves’ foot jelly, too. We had to have it when we had chicken pox last year. We won’t tell
anyone
, Rocky! Will we, Bella? Let’s link little fingers and swear our promise.’

Lucy watched with amusement as Lord Rockhaven solemnly linked a finger with Bertie.

‘And you, too, Aunt Lucy,’ Bertie commanded. ‘You can link with Bella and Rocky.’

Lucy wasn’t sure it was wise to touch any part of Lord Rockhaven in such an intimate way, but it seemed churlish to refuse, so, with her cheeks blushing bright pink, she bent down and obligingly curled her little finger around the one Lord Rockhaven extended towards her.

He grinned wolfishly at her discomfort.

‘So,
Aunt
Lucy? Will you keep my secret, too?’

‘Of course … since that is what you wish,’ she said a little stiffly.

The ceremony complete, she withdrew her finger from his grasp and straightened up, smoothing out the front of her skirt. She realized afresh that they were all dressed in old clothes. Lord Rockhaven probably thought they were local peasants from the village. Well, that suited her.

The sound of a horse’s hoofs upon the cobbles drew their attention to the corner of the cottage and Lucy was relieved to see a dog-cart swing into the yard. The swarthy man on
the driving seat was somewhat alarmed to see them and leaped down from his seat as Wellington strained at his leash to investigate the newcomer.

After an initial series of barks, Lord Rockhaven’s dogs had calmed down and were now wagging their tails, which told Lucy that the man was Lord Rockhaven’s companion. Bertie wasn’t so easily appeased. He bravely jumped up and placed himself in front of Lord Rockhaven’s prone figure, appointing himself as chief bodyguard, only relaxing seconds later. ‘Oh, it’s all right. It’s your friend,’ he announced over his shoulder, as the man hurried over, demanding, ‘Now, now, what’s happened ’ere?’