Edith Layton (9 page)

“Indeed,” the tall, dark gentleman said. “Is your mistress home?”

Alexandria’s chin came up. “I am she,” she said frigidly.

“Your pardon,” he said, bowing. “I’m Sinclair, the earl’s cousin. We got word the earl had an accident. Is he here? Is he all right?

“I’m Miss Gascoyne, my lord,” Alexandria said, still with a distinct chill in her voice. “Your cousin’s upstairs. He did have an accident. He’s much better now, but must stay on with me until he fully recovers.”

The ethereal-looking blond lady balled one gloved fist and poked the gentleman in the shoulder. “Now see what you’ve done,” she told him crossly. “You’ve set her against us, and no wonder.”

“Ouch!” the gentleman said, cringing, though the blow had been a mock one. “Stop, you little wasp. My dear,” he told Alexandria with a quirked smile that transformed his face, making it warm and engaging, “forgive me. I was so interested in finding out Drum’s
whereabouts and condition, I forgot my manners. Allow me to present my company properly. I’m the Viscount Sinclair, and this is my viscountess. Here is my friend Rafe Dalton and his bride, and this little blond demon is my ward, Gilly Ryder, who belongs to poor Mr. Ryder here now, and this enchanting scrap of humanity is their infant progeny, Annalise.”

“The doctor said he can’t leave his room for at least another week,” Alexandria said, giving each of them a slight nod to signify a bow. “I’ll tell him you’re here.” She turned her head and looked up to see Austin Grimes at the upper window. He nodded to her, signaling they should come up.

“His valet seems to have heard all,” she said, turning back to her new guests. “He must be anxious to see you, so if you’d care to come in?” She indicated the way.

The viscount frowned. “But wait, please. What are his injuries? He sent word to us, but merely that he wouldn’t be able to make an engagement we’d had because he’d had an accident. That was too vague for our comfort. We really began to worry when he didn’t come home and we found out he’d sent for his valet and some servants. He’s done for himself in the past when he’s had to and he’s not a fellow who likes to admit he needs help. So when he sent for it, we came to see for ourselves. All he said was that he’d had a mishap and ‘came a cropper.’”

Alexandria laughed in spite of herself. “‘Came a cropper,’ is it? Came down in a hurry, more like,” she said more seriously. “His horse was shot. We don’t know how or why yet. But it threw your cousin. The horse survived, but it fell on your cousin and broke his
leg in two places, and the doctor still worries about the injuries to his head. Not that he has any symptoms now,” she added quickly, because they all looked stricken at her words, “but it was…it seemed a near thing there for a while.”

The redheaded man muttered something under his breath and then barked, “Is the doctor reputable? Why didn’t you send to London for another opinion?”

Alexandria’s back stiffened again. “Dr. Pace is more than reputable,” she said, clutching the basin so hard her knuckles turned white. “We did the best we could as fast as we could. There was no question of sending to London when we brought your friend home on a door, or time to think of it. We were lucky enough to get any doctor so quickly, much less a good one like Dr. Pace. We had a gravely wounded man and didn’t even know his name. In fact, we didn’t discover it until he regained consciousness, which we wondered if he would at all. We didn’t think about getting other opinions once we saw his leg, either. The important thing was to set it at once. Even so, if his problems had persisted the doctor was going to send for another consultation. As it is, Lord Drummond’s healing with remarkable speed.”

The redhead looked abashed. “Forgive me. It’s only that he’s an old friend and I very much want to see him get older. Thank you on his behalf, Miss Gascoyne.”

She nodded stiffly. “Now, if you’d care to go in? It’s a small cottage, so I’ll stay out here while you visit. Mind your heads going in the door. His room is at the top of the stair. Please hurry, because I’m afraid he’ll get so impatient he’ll try to get up, and that’s forbidden.”

They filed toward the cottage. The viscountess paused in front of Alexandria. “Forgive us landing on you like this,” she said, “but Drum’s very dear to us, and when we heard he’d been hurt we had to come see him.”

The fiery little blond woman paused too. “The men wanted us to stay home, but women have the same sense of loyalty as men,” she told Alexandria with a smile. “How can you rest when a friend’s in trouble? He’d have done the same for us. You understand.”

“Yes,” Alexandria said, and smiled, though she felt odd and vaguely cheated, because, for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anyone but the boys who would care what happened to her.

“My brother may be along any moment,” the raven-haired lady said. “Please send him up to us too.”

Alexandria stood and watched them crowd into her cottage. She’d once joked about how many alien intruders the old place had sheltered under its thatch. None were as alien as these people from an altogether different world, she thought.
His people.
They’d come for him at last. He was with his kind again, and soon he’d be gone with them and she’d never see him again either.

The excitement was over, the fun was done. Life would return to normal but would never be the same. She’d be back to her routine in no time, which was as it should be, but it would be spoiled for her now. What had been commonplace would now seem like loneliness.

“Too much laughter will lead to tears,” she repeated to herself. Well, she sighed, that was wrong. She didn’t feel like crying. She just felt hollow.

The servants who’d come with her unexpected guests were stretching their legs, eyeing the cottage, gaping at the barn, and covertly watching her. Alexandria strolled to the garden in front of the cottage and bent her head over her newly staked sweetpeas, pretending to look at them to avoid being looked at.

Soon she was busily planning what and how to feed her guests. She had to offer tea because the nearest inn was a long way off…. The sound of horses in her drive made her look up.

A blazingly yellow phaeton with gilded struts and bright red wheels, pulled by cream-colored horses, came tearing down the drive, sending up a cloud of dust in its wake. The phaeton was a stunning affair, elegant and delicate as a cranefly, precariously balanced and built for speed. The two gentlemen high on the driver’s seat looked like those in a sporting print Alexandria had seen. They had hard, bored faces. One was fat, one thin. Neither looked like the brother the raven-haired woman said she was expecting. One had a high beaver hat over his yellow hair; the other’s dun hair was in a Brutus crop, brushed forward over his forehead.

They wore tan driving coats fastened by big mother-of-pearl buttons. The many capelets on their coats cascaded in tiers from shoulder to hip. One wore yellow trousers, the other, sky blue. Each had a bright nosegay tucked in his lapel. Members of some exclusive driving club, no doubt, Alexandria thought, as she stood staring at them. Too bad the boys weren’t here to see them, they’d be in ecstasies.

The phaeton stopped and the two men stayed seated on their high perch, surveying the place as though
they’d just bought it. They saw the other coaches and smiled, nodding to each other. They looked back and forth from the cottage to the barn and frowned in incomprehension at the obvious disparity of sizes and shapes.

Then they saw her. They smiled again.

“Well, well,” the yellow-haired man drawled to the other. “Answers at last.”

Before Alexandria could speak, he went on talking to his friend, though eyeing her. “‘
Accident
,’ my noble pink posterior! Drummond’s found a treasure. No wonder he’s rusticating. This affair has all his earmarks. Just look at the things he’s imported for his comfort: servants, friends, even that new…edifice. He probably erected it. Looks like it was built yesterday. Speaking of comforts, it’s likely not the only thing he’s erected here. Just look at her. Country pleasures indeed. Here’s a fine strapping wench,
now
it all comes clear.”

“Not a lady,” the other commented, looking her up and down.

“No, the lucky dog,” the driver said. “A fellow don’t need one here. And what a fellow needs, she’s got. In plenty. She’s comely and clean, not used town goods. God! I think it’s time I went home to see what’s been growing on my estate aside from turnips.”

“Not on your estate,” the fat man said, holding a quizzing glass up to one magnified eye. “That’s the point. It’s why Drum came here to the middle of nowhere. Not a whisper of scandal in his own backyard. Trust him to do it right.”

Alexandria couldn’t believe her ears or eyes. She didn’t care who this high-born lout was related to, she wanted him gone. “
I beg your pardon?
” she asked,
aping Mr. Gascoyne, the sternest schoolmaster in the nation, in his most forbidding, haughty tones.

“Darling,” the driver said, his gaze sliding up and down her body, “you don’t have to beg for a thing. Don’t fret. We came looking for that devil Drummond, but we’ll be happy to take you instead.”

Alexandria wished she had a dog to set on them, or a brother or father, or a tall, broad-shouldered friend. But she did have a friend, she hoped. “He’s upstairs,” she said icily. “I’ll just tell him you’re here.”

“Oh, bother that,” the driver said, leaning a hand on the wheel and hopping down to her level. He put one gloved finger under her chin and forced it up so she could meet his glittering eyes. “I’m here. My pockets are as full as the fall on my trousers when I look at you, and that should be more than enough—especially for a shrewd woman of business.” He lowered one eyelid in a wink.

Her eyes glittered now too, with the fervent wish to kill him. She slapped his hand away. “You’re mistaken. And you aren’t welcome anymore. Please leave.”

“Oh, I think not,” he said, clipping an arm around her waist.

“Careful!” his friend called to him.

“Of what?” he laughed.

“Drummond’s a touchy fellow.”

“So am I, ain’t you watching?” the yellow-haired man laughed as a furious Alexandria tried to pull away. “But don’t worry. Drummond’s awake on all suits, and gentlemen don’t duel over sluts.”

“E
WEN
!” D
RUM LAUGHED AS HIS COUSIN DUCKED
his head under the low lintel and came into the room. “Villain! What are you doing here? I told you I was recovering.”

“So you did,” the viscount said calmly. “So I came.”

“And you’ve brought your lovely lady,” Drum exclaimed as the viscountess followed her husband into the bedchamber. “Ah, but why did you do that? Bridget,” he asked the viscountess, “why did you follow this fellow to the ends of the earth to see me?” He struggled to stand but felt a firm but light hand on his shoulder.

“My lord, please, remember your injuries, or I shall have to do it for you,” Grimes whispered from behind him.

“Yes, very well,” Drum grumbled, settling down. “What’s this?” he yelped as the redhead and his bride entered. “Newlyweds have better things to do than visit the decrepit—no!” he shouted, looking beyond
them. “Gilly, you too?” he said to the smiling blond woman. “You wretch, come to plague me, have you? Hello, Damon, couldn’t you shackle her? Can’t a man die in peace anymore?”

“We thought you were,” the blond woman said. “So I brought your greatest admirer to say good-bye to you,” she added, smiling down at her baby.

Drum’s face grew grave. “But I almost did,” he said quietly.

“Just so,” his cousin said, leaning at the window to make room for the others who crowded into the chamber. “Who shot at you, Drum? Have you any enemies in this part of the country?”

“I probably have them everywhere,” Drum said with a shrug. “But it was more likely only some local lad taking bad aim at a passing bird. That’s what the boys who live here think. I sent Grimes to make inquiries. He didn’t discover a thing, and he’s thorough. The locals seem innocent enough, but there’s a school not far away—be damned to this blasted leg of mine!” he said in frustration. “If I could only go out and ask for myself!”

“No need. We’re here,” the redheaded man said simply.

“Rafe,” Drum said seriously, “I thank you, but you’ve better things to do than investigate my problem. And I’m sure that better half of yours will agree with me,” he added, smiling at the raven-haired woman.

“She doesn’t,” that lady said frankly. “Nothing’s more important than finding out who did this to you. Don’t worry about Rafe overworking. My brother’s coming too and he’ll be glad to lend a hand and an ear. We’ll find who did this, and why.”

“We heard you’d suffered terrible injuries,” Gilly Ryder said anxiously, “and here you are, unable to stand.”

“Vastly exaggerated,” Drum said quickly. “Don’t fret. I feel fine now. The leg’s only broken, not falling off.”

“A leg will knit,” her husband, Damon, said with a frown, “but what’s this we heard about your head?”

“The fall shook things loose, I think I’m a teapot now. Be serious!” Drum said in annoyance. “Nothing’s wrong with it except I got a hard knock, not for the first time and probably not for the last. I tell you, I’m mending, and am sorry rumor sent you haring off to see me. Sorry,” he said with a slight smile, “but flattered.”

“All your friends are concerned,” Gilly said. “Wycoff’s at his estate with Lucy and his brand-new son, or he’d be here now—yes, it’s a boy, isn’t that grand?”

“I’ll write to congratulate them and tell them to stay where they are,” Drum said. “As soon as I’m on my feet, I’ll go see them. And I promise you that
will
be soon.”

“This Alexandria Gascoyne,” his cousin said, looking out the window, “your hostess. Why do I know that name?”

“Because her father probably tormented you in his time. He was a schoolmaster at Eton. Latin or classical studies,” Drum said. “Don’t you remember? Or has this crowd in here used up so much air you can’t think?”

“God!” the viscount said, his eyes widening. “
That
Gascoyne? The Little Emperor? We called him that before Napoleon had the name,” he explained to his
wife’s bemused glance. “We thought he was a tyrant. Well, he was. Sour as a…Don’t tell me that charming girl is his daughter? I didn’t even know he was married. What woman would dare? He had the disposition of a snake and all the human kindness of a rock. He was finally dismissed for some reason or other, there were wild rumors about it. But no one cared why he left as long as he did. The whole school, teachers and students, rejoiced.”

“So I’d imagine,” Drum said. “He’s been dead three years and his shadow still lingers here. Left her with three adopted brothers to raise. They’re sound lads, but she has a hard time of it. She never complains, though—unless someone tries to do her a good turn.”

“Ah, so you
are
responsible for that…unusual addition to the barn?” asked his cousin, still gazing at the window.

“Good turn of phrase,” Gilly said with a grin.

“Wonderful euphemism,” her husband agreed, as the others smiled.

Drum grimaced. “Yes, don’t remind me. It looks like the barn was attacked by a sudden fall of lumber. I know. It was supposed to be useful to her. I was trying to do her a good turn because she’d done one for me. She didn’t know who or what I was when the boys found me lying by the side of the road, but she took me in and nursed me back to health. I wish I knew how to repay her.”

His cousin kept looking out the window, but now he was frowning. “You wrote and told us you were fine, and when we went to your town house your butler was instructed to say the same. So why on earth did you send for those fatuous lords Bryant and Tench?”

“What?” Drum exclaimed. “Those fools? I avoid them in London, why would I want them here? They’re reminders of my misspent youth, mistakes I made in the past.”

“So why are they here?” his cousin asked, looking down at the drive.

“Damn! They’re not!” Drum said, trying to rise from his chair. “Oh, all right, don’t panic,” he told Grimes crossly. “I’ll stay where I am, I’m not going to run down to greet them. I gave them up years ago and usually run the other way if I see them coming. You must be mistaken, Ewen. They’re idlers, gossips, pleasure seekers who never grew up. Little pleasure they’d get from racketing down from London to this place. Why would they?”

“Showing off Bryant’s new high-perch phaeton, probably,” Gilly said, standing on tiptoe to see out the window too. “They’ve been bucketing all over London in it. Everyone’s laying odds on when they’ll tip over and break their necks.”

“Laying odds, and hoping,” Rafe added.

Ewen Sinclair’s gaze sharpened and he frowned ferociously. “What’s that damned fool doing with your hostess?” he muttered as he looked down.

Drum heaved himself up and tried to see. He got a glimpse of what was happening. It took both Grimes and Damon Ryder to hold him back as he tried to follow the others as they ran out the door and down the stairs.

Drum struggled, looking down at the scene below, his teeth clenched, hands fisted in impotent fury at what he saw. The pain in his head was nothing to the frustration he felt. It had all happened in a flash. Lord
Bryant had jumped down from the high phaeton and accosted Alexandria. He’d grabbed her and was trying to turn her head to kiss her. His friend Tench sat on the driver’s seat guffawing and cheering him on. Alexandria was struggling to pull away from her attacker. That amused Bryant, he threw back his head and laughed. And then stopped—abruptly.

Because Alexandria had managed to free one hand and swing hard at his upraised chin. And she’d been clutching a enameled basin in that hand.

Drum winced. He imagined he could hear Bryant’s teeth click together from the force of the blow. He grinned. A faceful of basin was not what Alexandria’s admirer had been expecting from her. The smile died on Drum’s lips, his eyes blazed—because Bryant brought back one fist and swung it…right into the basin, as Alexandria raised it as a shield and ducked. Bryant howled and hopped, holding his bruised knuckles with his other hand. Alexandria quickly stepped on his foot, gave him another clout on the side of the head with the basin, and turned to flee. Bryant followed, and ran right into Rafe’s fist.

Drum finally allowed himself to be thrust back into his chair as he sighed with relief, confident that his friends could finish the defense Alexandria had started.

Lord Bryant was sure of that too.

“Get up!” Rafe roared at him.

“Not likely,” Bryant cried, curling up on himself where he lay on the ground like a grub that had just been unearthed by a gardener’s shovel. “You’ll kill me.”

“I’ll try!” the redhead vowed. “But be a man and stand!”

“I’m sorry! I won’t touch her again! I apologize! Just having a bit of sport,” Bryant gabbled. “Didn’t know she was your friend.” He looked up fearfully and saw himself surrounded by a crowd of illustrious gentlefolk, all sneering down at him.

“Didn’t know she was of any importance, the way she was dressed and all. Thought she was a filly, nothing more.” Bryant’s eyes sought Alexandria. She stood breathing hard, her eyes wide. “Pardon, beg your pardon, ma’am,” he beseeched her. “Please tell them not to kill me.”

“Don’t kill him,” Alexandria said automatically, still trying to catch her breath.

“There’d be all that trouble with an inquest, after all,” the viscount said in reasonable tones.

“Well, I won’t then,” Rafe agreed. “You can get up and go,” he told Bryant, “but don’t take too long about it or I’ll change my mind.”

Bryant got to one knee and looked at them warily.

“Whatever possessed you to come down here to make trouble?” the viscount asked curiously.

“Wasn’t thinking of making trouble,” Bryant said, sniffling. “We heard you were coming here. Heard Drummond was down here too. The Season’s ending, it’s tedious in London, and we were looking for a bit of sport, Tench and I.”

“Speak for yourself!” Tench cried from high on the driver’s seat of the phaeton. He had the reins gripped hard and held high. It was obvious one move toward him would have him making off down the drive as fast as his horses could take him. “Just passing through,” he assured the others, “on my way to my house.”

“In Dover?” the viscount mused. “How interesting.
I wonder, did you know you’re headed in exactly the wrong direction? On second thought, probably not.”

Bryant lurched to his feet.

“A moment,” Damon Ryder called as he came out the door. “Drum has a question. When did you hear where he was? And how?”

“Yes,” Rafe said, his eyes narrowing. “A very good question.”

Bryant, seeing three strong men suddenly glaring at him again, lost his courage and simply stood mute, looking at them.

Tench spoke up quickly. “Well, everyone was wondering where Drummond was. He hasn’t been seen in any of his usual haunts, don’t you know. We got to placing bets in the book about it. Then we heard you were all setting out of London in a scramble. Well, me and Bryant are downy ones and know Drummond is Sinclair’s cousin and your friend. So we knew something was in the wind. We wanted to win the bet, have some fun too. So we asked around, especially at Sinclair’s house. Not a footman in creation who won’t tell something for a few coins, you know.”

“I’d thought mine wouldn’t,” the viscount mused. “Pity, I’ll have to hire on new ones.”

His wife touched his sleeve. “I shouldn’t. These are hard times. I never told them it was a secret, did you?”

He patted her hand. “No. You’re right.” He looked up. “One more thing,” he asked Bryant. “When did you discover all this?”

“The morning you set out,” Bryant said warily, “we followed.”

The viscount looked up. Grimes stood at the high
window. He looked back into the room, and then made a gesture of dismissal.

“Then go,” the viscount told Bryant. “But repeat a word of this incident to anyone and you may have to repeat the entire incident—with flourishes.”

Bryant nodded, grabbed his hat from the ground and stumbled up to the high driver’s seat again. A moment later, the jaunty carriage had turned and was racing back down the road.

The company stayed to tea. The men sat up in the bedroom with Drum. The women clustered in the kitchen.

The men quizzed Drum about the real state of his health and his opinion about his assailant.

“I wrote to your brother-in-law Eric, too,” Drum told his friend Rafe. “Your bride said he’s on his way?”

“Aye,” Rafe said. “He’s an old soldier, and still a bachelor, so he has all the time in the world to help you. And he can. If there’s a true villain around, he’ll get the scent. Wish I could stay to see the fun.”

“That you do not!” Drum said, laughing, “and who can blame you? You belong with your wife and there’s nowhere for her to stay unless she cares to sleep in the barn with you. This place is hardly big enough for the family that lives here, which is why I built that absurd addition to their barn. It was for my own convenience so my men could be here with me. I thought it would help them too.”

Drum grimaced. “Even I can be wrong, though please don’t quote me on that. Eric can stay there, there’s room even for a giant like him now. He’s a good man, I’ll be glad of his help. So feel free to leave. I’m
mending fast and will be back in London before you can miss me. Now, tell me some important things. How have you been and what have I missed?”

The men talked about horse races and wagers, boxing matches and finances.

Downstairs, the women admired Gilly’s baby, gossiped about Lady Sinclair’s two children, and exclaimed and applauded when they heard Brenna Dalton’s shy announcement of a baby soon to come. Alexandria helped Mrs. Tooke serve tea and watched the lovely lively young women as they laughed and talked. They were so utterly unlike any women she’d ever seen up close that she felt both honored and belittled by their presence. It was an unsettling feeling, so she watched them furtively.

Which might be why she wasn’t aware that they were also watching her. One particular pair of golden eyes appraised her covertly. “You were a treat with that basin, Miss Gascoyne,” Gilly Ryder suddenly blurted. “You landed that rotten Bryant a facer
I’d
be proud of!”

It was an odd way for a lady to speak. Alexandria decided it must be the current fashion. She was profoundly embarrassed, aware she must have looked like a hulking farm girl to them. “I’d been emptying the basin when they drove up,” she murmured. “I suppose I just hung on to it. When I realized I held it, I also realized I had a weapon.” Faint color appeared high on her cheeks as she lifted her head high. “I’ve three younger brothers. They taught me about fighting. They said women didn’t have to play by the rules. Not because they have less honor,” she added quickly, “but because if someone bigger tries to take advantage of someone
smaller of any gender, a different set of rules apply.”