The Keys of Love (15 page)

“Put out your arms,” he ordered and reached across her and helped her slip her left arm into its sleeve. Then he reached a hand behind, drawing her gown along her back so that her right arm could find the other sleeve.

The Duke's face was so close to her own that their breaths mingled. For an instant his lips came tantalisingly close to hers. Then he seemed to admonish himself, for he drew suddenly back.

“There. You are respectably garbed.
For once
.”

Stung, she watched the Duke move to the window and stoop to pick up the green dress and lay it over a chair.

“Y-Your Grace?”

“Yes?”

“H-how did you know I was in the maze?”

The Duke's features softened as he remembered.

“I heard your sobs from afar. I was worried when you fell silent.”

“And how were you able to find me? Do you know the intricacies of the maze so well?”

“I had not been in the maze since I was a boy. But was led to you by this.”

He drew from his pocket a portion of black flounce.

“I used the torn pieces to prevent me going over my tracks,” explained Henrietta.

“Most ingenious.”

He ran it through his fingers as he surveyed her.

“Tell me, Miss Reed, where will you be lodging in London?”

“I d-don't know. We have not yet decided.”

“Surely Mr. Bragg has seen to it that lodgings are secured for his players?”

Henrietta did not know what to say to this.

“There is no relationship between Mr. Bragg and me,” she responded at last, “that would make it incumbent upon him to be responsible for my welfare.”

The Duke's eyes flashed.

“In that case, Miss Reed, allow me to put at your disposal a house of mine in Bloomsbury.”

“A h-house of yours?” Henrietta was taken aback.

“It is not the largest of my properties, but I am sure it will suit you. Until you can find something of your own. I am often in London and will be able to visit you.”

Henrietta's eyes widened.

“You would visit there w-with Miss Foss?”

“Miss Foss?” the Duke exploded. “Why on earth would I bring Miss Foss?”

How much more might have been discovered there and then would never be known, for at that moment Nanny started up from her chair and stared dazedly about her.

“What is happening?
Henrietta
?”

Henrietta's heart leapt into her mouth. Nanny had called out her real name! Had the Duke noticed?

She could not be sure and must despatch him from the room before Nanny could reveal any other details.

She hurried over to Nanny.

“Y-yes, Your Grace, thank you, that would be most convenient for us,” she cried over her shoulder. “Perhaps we can discuss it later, for now I must tend to Mrs. Poody

her heart is not good.”

“My apologies,” the Duke murmured and moved to the door and as he opened it, he turned to glance back.

“I will anticipate our next encounter with pleasure,” he bowed and then he was gone.

Nanny regarded Henrietta with a puzzled frown.

“What was that you said about my heart?”

“Oh, Nanny, it was nothing, nothing.”

Henrietta kissed her on the cheek and then flung her arms about her, as if to reassure herself that there was one fixed point in her increasingly turbulent universe.

“You seem to have recovered at any rate,” muttered Nanny, pleased at this affectionate attention.

Henrietta did not feel recovered at all. She felt full of a strange fever, her thoughts tumbling in her head, her blood roused in her veins.

There was no doubting the source of this sickness.

It lay in the Duke's gaze, his touch, his attention, though of all these were illicit.

Henrietta felt a sob rise in her throat.

With every fibre of her being she longed to feel the Duke's lips again on her all too ardent flesh.

*

It seemed an endless night.

Henrietta tossed and turned under the quilt, finally throwing it from her.

The chimes of the distant clock sounded. Each note struck in tandem with a beat of her heart.

One, two, three the Duke had left her soon after three four. Four o'clock.

Her head throbbed and her throat was parched.

She fell back, clutching the damp sheets to her. A moment ago she was too hot. Now she felt chill.

“N-Nanny,” she moaned out and then as her senses started to swim, “J-Joe.”

Joe! Why had she called for Joe? Joe did not exist. There was no Joe, there was no Harrietta. Alas, for
they
might easily have forged a bond. The head groom and the piano player were they not of a more or less equal status?

“Joe, I am so thirsty,” groaned Henrietta.

There should have been a pitcher of water on her bedside table, but there was none.

She seemed to swim in and out of consciousness, and then her eyes were open as she heard another chime.

Half past
four.

The urge to drink was now stronger than her sense of fatigue. With a great effort she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Missing the steps, she slid to the floor.

She hauled herself to her feet and staggered to the door of Nanny's room. Nanny's bed was empty, but she did not see that Nanny was asleep on the couch.

Henrietta turned away, her mind muddled.

She must find Nanny to fetch her a drink of water. Nanny would fetch Joe and Joe would hitch up the wagon. They would all travel to Lushwood together.

She staggered to the door, opened it and peered out along the silent corridor.

Then she stepped out.

In her delirium, she was now home at Lushwood, each door the door of a room she remembered.

She almost floated along the corridor and across the landing at the top of the silent staircase.

Henrietta glided into the corridor of the South wing and paused outside a nail studded oak door.

Mama's room
!

She turned the handle and sailed in.

A nightlight burned beside the bed, but the rest of the room was in shadow. A form lay curled under the red counterpane.

On a table at the foot of the bed stood a pitcher of water and a glass.

Henrietta crossed the room eagerly, stumbling into a chair and knocking it clean over as she did so.

“What on earth!”

The form in the bed sat upright with a jolt. Bedcap askew, grey hair instead of black protruding from under its brim, it was no wonder that she did not instantly recognise
Lady Butterclere
.

Instead she pointed at the pitcher of water.

“I-I want a d-drink,” she explained disingenuously.

“A likely story!” roared Lady Butterclere, thrusting her feet out of bed and fumbling for her dressing gown. “I know what you were up to, my girl. You've blundered into
my
room, but you were looking for the Duke.”

“Joe,” mumbled Henrietta, a strange blur forming before her eyes.

“Oh,
Joe
, is it? It's got that far, has it?”

Lady Butterclere, her dressing gown belt trailing on the ground, came looming at Henrietta.

“You wretched, wretched creature,” she hissed into her face. “I shall see that you are ruined for this.”

“R-ruined?” repeated Henrietta dazedly.

“Ruined, ruined, one thousand times over,” intoned Lady Butterclere, reaching for the servants' bell.

She gave it such a vigorous tug that the cord almost came away in her hand.

“What is it, just what is the matter?”

Romany came rushing into the room.

“What's
she
doing here?” she gaped.

“Just wait till I tell you,” sneered Lady Butterclere.

Henrietta could hear her through a haze. Her mind wandered and she thought again of Nanny.

“I m-must go,” she moaned, turning to the door.

“Oh, no you don't!”

Lady Butterclere caught hold of her by the elbow and, steering her to a chair, pushed her firmly down.

When she tried to rise, Lady Butterclere whipped the belt off her dressing gown and, teeth tightly gritted, tied Henrietta's wrists to the wooden arms.

Romany's eyes grew wide.

“I say isn't that rather excessive?”

“You think so?” Lady Butterclere rounded on her with an air of triumph. “What do you think she was up to? She was looking for the Duke's chamber, that's what. In her nightdress! And when I caught her, her only excuse was that she was looking for a drink of water!”

“Scandalous!” exploded Romany.

Casting around her furiously, she saw the pitcher of water and took it up.

“There! There's water for you,” she cried, tossing its contents fully into Henrietta's face.

Henrietta, utterly bewildered, gazed up at Romany through dripping curls.

“
What is going on here
?”

The Duke, his features twisted in rage, towered at the door.

“Your Grace!”

Lady Butterclere, bobbing a quick curtsy, gestured to Romany to remain silent.

“I had to bind Miss Reed and then dash water into her face to quell her! She was in such a wild fury after I apprehended her in her efforts to find your chamber. I did not summon you, as I wished to spare you the spectacle.”

The Duke brushed Lady Butterclere to one side and strode over to Henrietta. Her head lolled now, strands of wet hair falling over her face.

The Duke clenched his jaw.

“Untie her!” he commanded.

“Well, of course, if you insist.” Lady Butterclere hastened to loosen the belt about Henrietta's wrists.

“Though to my mind she should be chastised ”

“Should she indeed,” replied the Duke, helping the freed Henrietta to her feet.

“And then sent packing,” insisted Lady Butterclere. “She is a a gold digger. You do not see that.”

“I see that she is ill,” said the Duke grimly, pressing a hand to Henrietta's forehead.

Lady Butterclere pursed her lips.

“Not so ill that she could just wander half-clad about the corridors! Suppose she had blundered into the wing where the Prince of Wales sleeps? You just imagine the scandal! And stepbrother, do you not ask yourself,
why
? What intention had she other than seduction? And who was her quarry, dear stepbrother, if not you?
Who
?”

The Duke wavered. His shoulders sagged and his hand dropped to his side.

When he saw a maid, summoned by the bell, appear anxiously in the doorway, he beckoned her wearily over.

“Would you please escort Miss Reed here back to her room,” he ordered.

The maid took her arm and led her away. Henrietta cast a beseeching and bewildered glance at the Duke as she was hurried by, but he had turned his face away.

“I did believe you would see sense,” crowed Lady Butterclere with barely concealed triumph.

The Duke turned for a moment to look at Henrietta as she disappeared through the door.

“Nevertheless, we will summon the doctor in the morning,” he insisted.

“Oh, it won't be necessary, I assure you,” chimed in Lady Butterclere. “She will recover quick enough when she realises how she is exposed. Lord, stepbrother, you are a real innocent in the matter of young women. You should have seen how she carried on aboard
The Boston Queen
.”

Henrietta, propelled along the corridor by the maid, heard these words fade out behind her, but could make no sense of them in her fevered condition.

“What's up, Harrie?”

Eddie, en route to his room after a long card game in the servants hall, narrowed his eyes with concern at the sight that approached him.

“I'm ordered to take her to her bed, sir,” gloated the maid. “She's been a bad girl.”

Eddie put a hand under Henrietta's chin and lifted her now lolling head.

“Harrie?” he questioned with concern.

“F-find P-Poody,” was all Henrietta could reply.

“I'll take her from here, thank you.” Eddie waved his hand at the maid.

“But I was
ordered
!” spluttered the maid.

“Well, I'm ordering different!”

Eddie encircled Henrietta's tiny waist with his arm, and carried her down the corridor towards the West wing.

Nanny came bursting through from her room when she heard Eddie kick open Henrietta's door.

“I woke up and found her gone!” she cried, rushing tearfully towards them. “Where has she been?”

“I'm not rightly sure, Mrs. Poody.”

Nanny put a hand to Henrietta's brow.

“She's feverish!” she exclaimed.

“She doesn't seem herself at all,” agreed Eddie.

“I'll get her into bed now and in the morning I'll have a doctor fetched.”

Eddie looked unhappy.

“The orchestra is due to leave Merebury tomorrow. I know she's not going to be performing with us again, but I'd sure hate to leave her behind. I don't know, but I feel there's some ill wind blowing in this place.”

Nanny was too busy settling Henrietta into bed to hear Eddie's last sentence.

“If you have to leave without us, then so be it,” she said. “Although I would have preferred to travel with you all. It has been such fun.”

Eddie gave one rueful glance back and departed.

*

It was five o'clock in the morning, and seven, and eight each chime coming faintly to Henrietta's ear.

It was day, but the moon did not go away. It came right in the window to hover over her bed. Only it had a ruddy face and it spoke.

It felt her pulse and put a stethoscope to her breast and shook its head.

“
Tut tut,
” the moon gurgled.

It shook a bottle and poured liquid into a spoon that was held at her lips and the liquid trickled down her throat.

After that, she slept and slept and slept.

She did not see the faces of Eddie and Kitty loom briefly over her to murmur goodbye nor hear the rumble of wheels lurching off for the station at Liverpool.