Black Sheep's Daughter (24 page)

Jenny Kaye and Daphne Pringle, in raptures to be invited to Five Oaks, immediately set about the siege of Lord Danville. Teresa found it impossible to blame him for turning increasingly to the non-threatening, safely betrothed Muriel. Whenever the younger set split up, for instance when they went by carriage to see Arundel Castle, he manoevred so that he, Teresa, Muriel and Sir Andrew were together.

This did not please his brother. "The devil of it is," he explained to Teresa, "that as soon as Tom's out of view they start after me, though I ain't half such a good catch."

Teresa had mixed feelings on the subject, which she confided to no one. It was a painful joy to be so often with Andrew. The presence of his betrothed increased the pain. Though in some ways Cousin Tom’s company helped her bear the situation, he also presented a source of confusion: he and Muriel seemed often to have more to say to each other than to Andrew or herself. She knew Andrew noticed it and was hurt.

In spite of these circumstances, she enjoyed the trip to Arundel. She had never seen anything remotely like the ancient medieval castle, rebuilt time and time again over the centuries, and she listened fascinated to Cousin Tom's tales of its history. It belonged to the Duke of Norfolk, and though he was not in residence his housekeeper made them welcome and provided a magnificent luncheon.

The December days were short, so they left early for the two hour drive back to Five Oaks. Though the sun was shining it was bitterly cold, and the housekeeper provided hot bricks for their feet. Andrew and Lord Danville carefully tucked fur rugs about Teresa and Muriel in the smaller of the two carriages, then took their seats opposite and tucked themselves in. They set off, followed by the larger coach with the rest of the group.

Some three miles from Five Oaks, they passed through the village of Billingshurst. They were in the middle of the village when their carriage stopped abruptly, with much whoa-ing from the coachman.

"What is it?" called Lord Danville.

The answer was drowned by a confusion of snarling growls and screams. Teresa leaned out of the window, but all she could see was a village girl carrying two pails of water on a yoke, her hand raised to her mouth, an expression of horror on her face.

“Lord, what’s to do?” asked Andrew, peering over Teresa’s shoulder.

“I cannot make out.”

“Here, let me by and I’ll go and see.”  He swung open the door and jumped out of the carriage, followed by Teresa.

The horses were shying and tossing their heads, held with difficulty by the coachman. Behind them the second coach had stopped and several of its occupants descended, calling out questions. John ran to join Teresa and Andrew as they hurried forward to where they could see past the restless team.

A mastiff and a bull terrier were locked in combat in the middle of the street, blood-curdling sounds issuing from their throats. It was a terrifying sight, but it did not explain the horror on the girl's face.

Then they saw the child. Perhaps two years old, he was toddling towards the dogs with every evidence of fascinated delight, his hand held out as if to pet them.

Somewhere a woman screamed, "Jemmy!"

With one accord, Andrew and Lord John leaped at the dogs. They seized them by the scruffs of their necks and hung on with all their strength.

Teresa dodged round them, picked up the little boy and set him down at the side of the road, well out of the way. He pouted at her.

“See doggies,” he said indignantly.

A woman in a white apron hurried up, tears pouring down her pale, plump face. "Oh, Jemmy!  Oh, miss!"

Teresa had no time for her. A backward glance showed her Sir Andrew and Lord John backing away with bloodied hands. The mastiff and the bull terrier, their quarrel forgotten, had both turned on the spoilsports and were advancing with teeth bared. Teresa had not seen so many teeth, so close, since she lay on the ground with the jaguar poised above her.

She dashed to the girl with the yoke, praying that she had already been to the pump. The buckets were full. She seized one of them and threw the icy water at the menacing dogs.

They shook themselves and looked back at her, annoyed at this new interruption to their sport. As she picked up the second bucket and sloshed its contents at them they fled, yelping.

So did Lord John and Andrew.

"Here, I say, cousin!" said Lord John indignantly. "That water is damnably cold."

"Your skill with a bucket does not match your skill with a pistol," added Andrew, looking down with annoyance at his soaked unmentionables.

"I should have let them go after you!"  Hurt by their ingratitude, Teresa turned her back on them.

The rest of the party from the second carriage hurried up, laughing at the sodden gentlemen, congratulating Teresa on the rescue.

"Dashed if I've ever seen anything so neat!" exclaimed Mr Wishart.

"Well done, Teresa," cried Marco.

"How brave you are," shuddered Daphne. "I should never have known what to do."

Then the child's mother approached, shyly pushing through the gentlefolk to thank her baby's saviour. Several other villagers arrived to hear the tale and marvel. Teresa was the centre of attention, and basking in it, until a reproachful voice from the first carriage interrupted.

"We must be on our way!" called Lord Danville. "Miss Parr is sadly shocked and must be taken home."

"And we are frozen half to death," grumbled Lord John, with a shiver, "not to mention bleeding."

Teresa took his hand and examined it. "It is not deep, but it must be thoroughly cleansed, and soon," she said. "Cousin Tom is right, we must go."

She turned to Andrew, but he had already bound his wound with a handkerchief. "It is nothing," he said gruffly. "For pity's sake let us be on our way before dark, if you are done with your admirers."

He and Lord John climbed into the first carriage with Muriel and Tom, so as not to soak both vehicles, and Teresa perforce joined the others.

Mr Wishart took her hand and patted it. "If they are ungracious," he whispered, "it is because they are mortified at being rescued by a beautiful young lady when they hoped to be heroes themselves. Do not heed their sulks. You were magnificent, Miss Danville."

Unconsoled, Teresa removed her hand from his clasp.

* * * *

It was dark when they reached Five Oaks at last. Andrew abandoned Muriel, still trembling with shock, to Miss Carter's anxious care and hurried up to his chamber. He was shivering violently, frozen to the bone.

Rowson arrived on his heels. He took one look at his master and sent for a hot bath. "And step lively!" he called after the footman. Then he turned back to Andrew. "Nice weather for swimming," he said conversationally, and set about pulling off his sodden boots.

"It was that d-devilish Miss D-Danville," said Andrew, his teeth chattering.

"Shoved you in the river, did she?  Daresay she had her reasons. Game as a pebble, our Miss Teresa. Let's get them pantaloons off then."

"She is n-not our Miss T-Teresa and she did not sh-shove me in the river!  She threw a bucket of water over a pair of fighting dogs and drenched both Lord John and me."

"What did I say, a right Trojan, she is."

"Dammit, Rowson, will you take her side?  She is a perfectly devilish female!  Where's my bath?"

"I'll go hurry 'em up."  Rowson was certain that the whole story would by now have passed from coachman to cook and thence to the rest of the staff. Whatever had got his master on his high ropes, it was no mere soaking.

Andrew sat by the fire, wrapped in his dressing gown, gradually thawing. As his shivers ceased, he found himself able to admire Teresa's courage, and still more, her efficiency in an emergency. While he and her cousin had acted like the veriest rattlepates, going for the dogs, she had coolly snatched the child to safety and then turned and rescued them from their folly.

It was all of a piece with everything he knew of her. Before they had exchanged a word, she had saved him from a deadly snake. She had saved the mules in the flood, herself from the jaguar, several score slaves from the depths of the ocean. She was not only fearless but practical.

In the same situation, Muriel was more likely to swoon. That was how a delicately bred female ought to behave. After all, a man wanted the chance to rescue his beloved from deadly peril. It was just his luck to have fallen in love with an Amazon who stood in no need of a heroic deliverer.

Horrified, Andrew forced a halt to that train of thought. What poppycock!  He loved and was engaged to be married to a young lady of irreproachable timidity.

Fortunately, Rowson came back just then, with a footman bearing a copper hip-bath followed by half a dozen others with hot water. In no time, Sir Andrew was lounging in a steaming bath and beginning to feel much more the thing.

“Our Miss Teresa gave me a wash for your hand, sir," said Rowson, setting out evening clothes.

 "It is a mere scratch."

 "Said as it's a dog bite it might get infected. I'll do it when you get out. There's a letter too, came in the morning’s post after you left."

 "Who's it from, can you tell?"

 "The Foreign Office, I reckon. Been forwarded a couple o' times."

 "Let me see it. No, I'd best dry off first."  Andrew stepped from the bath and Rowson enveloped him in a huge towel that had warmed by the fire.

 Feeling at last thoroughly comfortable, he sat in a chair and opened the letter. "Damnation!  It's back to London for us first thing tomorrow," he said gloomily. "Though perhaps it's just as well."

 "For good, sir?"

 "No, just a few days. We'll be back well before Christmas." More's the pity, he added silently.

 He was, he thought, in a devil of a coil. Here he was engaged to Muriel, the prettiest, best behaved and most docile young lady he had ever known. Yet marriage to her seemed less and less attractive.

 On top of that, she was spending all her time in Lord Danville's pocket. He knew, from something Lord John had let drop, that both brothers regarded her as a safe object of their admiration, because of her betrothal. The duke's heir had no serious intentions. Since Andrew, as an honorable gentleman, could not cry off, they would be wed in a month's time willy nilly.

 And meanwhile, Teresa was mortifying his pride and otherwise cutting up his peace. He had certainly not known a dull moment since first they met. But by the end of the Season she would be married to one of her many admirers, he would be stuck in his desk job at the Foreign Office, their paths would seldom cross.

 China began to look more and more inviting.

Chapter 17

  It was still bitterly cold when Andrew left Five Oaks, promising to return in a few days. A thin, high haze hid the sun. Teresa, watching from her dressing room as he rode down the drive, thought she had never in her life seen such a dreary scene.

 She had no desire whatever for the usual morning ride. For once she would stay behind with Muriel, who did not ride and was usually left with the older guests. She must make a special effort to be kind to Muriel, to assuage her guilt for having fallen in love with her friend's future husband.

 As it turned out, only Lord Danville and his brother-in-law ventured out. No one else evinced the slightest wish to risk frostbite for the sake of exercise.

 There was no lack of entertainment indoors. Small groups gathered in the billiard room and the music room. Several ladies repaired to the drawing room to sew and gossip; one or two more intellectual souls settled in the library to read. Teresa had always loved books and had had little opportunity since her arrival in England to make use of the duke's magnificent collection. She went to the library and browsed along the shelves.

 History, philosophy, the classics in the original and in translation, books of travel, poetry, biography—they all looked immeasurably dull. She chose a novel and sat down with it. It failed to hold her attention, as did a second choice.

 A series of muttered grunts and black looks told her she was disturbing the other readers. She put the books away and went to the music room.

 "Teresa!" cried Jenny Kaye. "Marco has brought his ocarina and we are trying to find tunes that fit its range. Do fetch yours."

 She was seated at the pianoforte, with Muriel, Daphne, Marco and Mr Wishart gathered round. They seemed to be having a hilarious time, even her quiet brother who was producing extraordinary noises from his ocarina for their amusement.

 Teresa smiled and shook her head. "I was looking for Cousin John," she said mendaciously. She had thought music might soothe her; laughter and merriment were not what she wanted.

 "John's playing billiards," Mr Wishart told her. "I'll come down with you."

 "No, no, I should not dream of interrupting your concert."

She wandered listlessly down to the billiard room, for want of anything better to do. Lord John was just finishing a game with one of his father's political colleagues.

 He greeted her with unabashed relief. "Cousin Teresa!  I'll challenge you to a game."

 "Remember the outcome last time you challenged me!  Besides, I do not know how to play."

 "Nothing could be more innocuous than billiards. I shall teach you. I'd wager with your eye you'll soon be a worthy opponent."

 Teresa found that learning the rules and techniques occupied just sufficient of her attention, neither requiring intense concentration nor leaving her time to think. Her cousin's casual cheerfulness and good-natured teasing chased her blue devils away for a time. They played until the gong rang for luncheon. By then, though her score improved each time, he had beaten her hollow in three games.

 This he announced at table, to his sister's immediate scorn. "Indeed you are no gentleman, John. You ought to have let Teresa win."

 "Short of playing with my back turned to the table, that would have been impossible, Pam. Besides, last time I challenged Teresa, she won."

 "Oh, famous!  You beat our top-o'-the-trees Corinthian, cousin?  What was that at?"